Page 27 of My Fake Billionaire Damaged Boyfriend

He gives me a puzzled look before coming back down to earth with his arms crossed over his god-like chest, “Well, for starters, I put together your dining room table. What have you been doing; eating on the floor?”

Scratching the back of my neck awkwardly, I can already tell the guilt is alive and well inside of me. He can see it, too.

“I have a desk in the bedroom,” I breathe, “I eat there.”

“Yeah, next to the expensive setup of monitors? You could spill something and short that whole setup, Izzy.”

“I didn’t ask for a lecture, I just came to tell you I found the backdoor manually.”

“Good,” he sighs, “Let’s get to it, then.” He shuts the cabinet door on his way out of the kitchen, stopping so my back presses to the inner sheath of the doorway while he practically traps me in this spot. His arm hooks over my head, his chest brushing mine while his free hand drapes under my throat to steady my gaze onto his. “You need to take better care of yourself here, Kitten.”

“I can take care of myself just fine. I’ve been doing it a long time, Dimitri.”

He hardly seems convinced, leaning in for a kiss that I can’t help but avoid.

If his lips touch mine now, we will end up in bed together again—and I don’t need another distraction right now. Pulling free of his magnetic lure, I slip away and settle back into the office chair, my eyes land on the search engine. From here, it’s all standard. But once I connect to the internet, we will have a very short amount of time to gather information and shut it off.

Even I can’t trace the untraceable, and we need to make a big enough impact on Alek’s software to get his attention and to pull it away from the fact that Dimitri and I have been hacking from his house. It’s not too complicated of a plan—it’s the execution I’m worried about.

“Alright, Kitten. What’s the plan now?”

I stare at the search engine curiously. “Well, I don’t know. We need to make enough damage that he notices it, and that it pisses him off. We just can’t let it last too long. I don’t want any shot of him tracing this back to us.”

He nods in firm agreement, “Alright. Makes sense to me. How do you want to do this then?”

Biting my bottom lip, I nearly chuckle to myself. “If it’s a search engine for names, that means there’s a database in here, right?”

“Yeah, of course. Why do you ask?”

“I say we flood it.”

His smile goes coy, “I like this already. But what can we flood it with?”

I shrug, tipping backward in my chair to hear it squeak methodically, “We could paste a bunch of funny photos inside of it.”

“Okay, okay. Good start. What if the flood links to cookbooks or something? We can paste in the most boring literature imaginable.”

“I don’t have your company how-to-code book on hand, though.”

His eyes narrow, “How did you even know we had a how-to book to begin with?”

Biting back a snicker, I reply with, “Well, Alek uses it to prop the office doors open. They’re big and heavy enough to hold the doors open, and boring enough to skim through when you’re pretending to work. I found it on the shelf.”

“Oh, you’resofunny,” he taunts, “Let’s try something a little less damning towards me.”

“Good point.”

Tapping his chin, I can see the lightbulb flicker over his head, “Oh, I have the best idea.”

Readying my fingers over the keys, I give him a steady nod, “Alright. Let me hear it.”

“We should flood it with punk rock music.”

I cock my head, unsure how we would even do that, “Wait, you want to flood it with music? You own a punk rock club. How would he not figure out it’s you breaking in?”

“It’s Seattle, Kitten. It’s the only music that matters around here. Besides, we jam-pack the engine with it, we discombobulate the algorithm with it, and he will be too annoyed to notice the words are lyrics. I have whole folders full of music and samples that I keep on hand for the club; just in case something happens to the sound system. We can wire my phone into the system, copy the files over, and let Alek rock out to some good tunes.”

I can’t help but laugh, “I would love to see him get mad over that.”

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