Page 7 of My Fake Billionaire Damaged Boyfriend

“Afraid of heights?” I ponder, seeing her grip the wall a little tight with her hands.

“Not exactly,” she whispers. “Small spaces.”

“This place isn’t that small,” I add, motioning to the extended ceilings that come to a dull point. “See, look at all this space.”

“It’s not your place I’m referring to,” she insists. “Your elevator is small.”

I look towards the metal doors that open to my penthouse. It only works with my key, but most people ride the elevator in groups of five to six. I know I’ve felt closed in not being able to crack a window in this place, but that’s what my house is for.

I just figured a beautiful night with a beautiful woman needed to happen in a beautiful spot.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong now that we’re alone?” I ask, fixing a pot of decaf coffee.

She holds a hand to her temple obviously fighting an alcohol migraine. “I hate gin… I shouldn’t have said anything to begin with.”

“Not much of a liquor fan?”

“I like beer,” she admits, almost like that’s a problem. I enjoy the occasional lager, but owning a bar pretty much prohibits me from being able to drink all that often. I like my liquor licenses and try to keep them. “If I tell you this, will you tell Alek?”

“No,” I say, taking my blazer off. I set it down nearby so I can roll up my sleeves. It’s always a bit warmer in here than anywhere else in the tower, the kitchen, the focal point of every penthouse, but it’s extra special in mine for architectural reasons. “I’m not his friend, Kitten. You can tell me anything and it will stay with me.”

She pulls her hair back, steps out of her heels, and shakes her head. “I think Alek has something dark going on in his mainframe, and I’m not sure he knows about it or not, but I get the feeling he does, and he doesn’t want it to be removed.”

Pressing my hands to the kitchen island, the cold marble under my worn fingertips, I watch her squirm and wait for my reply. She’s uneasy and unsure, but more than that, she’s scared. Her eyes stroll up my forearms licked with black ink tattoos, taking in the art I’ve forever embedded into my body.

“I don’t know what it is, but I know it’s there and it shouldn’t be,” she insists.

I have to dance around this carefully. “Do you think you could show me, Kitten?”

Swallowing hard, she only nods, solidifying two things in stone.

One, she trusts me.

And two, the most important note—she doesn’t trust Alek Ivica, and that means I have the perfect insider to my rival’s work that I could ever ask for.

“Show me, Kitten. I’d be happy to help you with this problem.”

CHAPTER4

Izzy

Ilog onto Dimitri’s monitor, curiously tapping around the system with a hint of awe. He has a nice set up, one that is remarkably well put together, but also there’s an extra added step that has my mind in a fog. I don’t mention it, still feeling woozy from my sips of gin, but I notice the untraceable IPN almost instantly.

“Hey, here you go. You said cream and sugar, right?” he asks, coming into the back bedroom that looks more like a hotel room than a penthouse bedroom. “It’s a bit strong for me but still tastes good.”

“Thank you,” I mutter, skipping the coffee for now while I work diligently in this confined space.

It’s a long bedroom facing the wall with several upside-down triangles for windows. The city is brilliantly lit below, but the longer I stare at the sight, the smaller this place feels around me. I am comfortable at his simple desk, typing through rounds of firewall while I try to break into the company system for the first time outside of the office.

“It’s only my first day and I’m already doing somethingveryillegal.” I shake my head, my fingers pausing on the keyboard. “I don’t know if this is worth the investigation.”

“It is,” Dimitri insists. “You need to look it up. If he’s doing something bad and you found it and didn’t do anything with it, then you could be liable, Kitten.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Why? It fits you so well.”

I roll my eyes, exasperated with his charming banter already. “I’m nothing like a cat.”

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