Page 30 of My Fake Billionaire Damaged Boyfriend

The shock and anticipation in her eyes is enough to let me know if I wanted to have her right here, she wouldn’t be opposed to it.

“You can taunt my age,” I whisper, speaking into her loose, natural curls, “but if you think you can taunt me with your sexy body, Kitten. You’re in for a wild ride tonight.”

She grins wider, “Good. I want to have a redo in the green room.”

I release her skirt with that promise, and I practically teleport the car over to the bar, taking her hand in mine while we shift through the growing crowd inside. She hurries behind me on her thin heels, and doesn’t stop until we’re in the back hallway, skipping right to the good part.

“We were supposed to be watching the band play,” I gust, leading her through the back halls.

“We still can,” she says, gleaming, “I just want to catch up where we left off from last time.”

“You and me both.”

We nearly make it to the green room when something else catches my attention. The back door is propped open with a flowerpot, the outside breeze damning while I cock my head at the sight. The back door is supposed to be latched with the alarm set at all times.

It’s never just open and parted for all to come inside.

I drop her hand and motion for her to stay put, making my way down the hall to kick the flowerpot back. The door shuts, and I set the alarm, turning just in time to see Izzy with her back against the wall, and a masked man’s palm loosely pinned around her precious throat.

Fire licks my skin, and rages through my blood, the sight so appealing that I can’t seem to catch my breath. Coming closer, more thugs with masks on file out of the green room, surrounding her and myself with nothing but raging music playing over the prospect of us calling for help.

I don’t need help, though.

I push my way to her side, racking my fist into the man’s cheek that holds her to the wall. He stumbles, and two others have to gain possession of my arms while the third comes back to a wavering stance before me.

He shakes his head, something dark and unwelcome in his eyes when he looks at her, “Give me your purse.”

She swallows hard, tucking it behind her leg. Even I know it’s pointless for her to resist, the man yanking her by the shoulder, turning her quick, and shoving her chest into the wall. She squeals slightly, his hand brushing her hip while he takes the purse into his grasp.

He turns to me next, the men gripping my arms and putting up one hell of a fight, “I’ll take this.”

His hand presses into my pocket, grabs my phone, and then adds it to her purse. Izzy doesn’t move, petrified while he pushes past her. The other two men let go of me with a damning shove, sending me to the ground while they bolt out the back door.

Sirens scream over the loud music, and Izzy kneels beside me with tears in her pretty eyes.

“Are you okay?” I hiss first, checking her neck to make sure he didn’t wound her too badly.

She shakes her head, “They have my purse, Dimitri.”

“It’s okay. I can replace that and everything in it.”

Her teeth grind slightly before she adds in a sober tone, “No, Dimitri. The flash drive… my software… the code we used to break into Alek’s system… It’s in there.”

The realization hits me, something in my gut telling me that this attack was orchestrated by Alek Ivica.

The only thing worse than that is if it was perpetrated by him, then it means what little hope we had of keeping our hacking on the down-low is officially over.

He’s going to know it was her that broke the backdoor down, and with my phone holding the music we just jampacked into his coding to fry the system, there’s no hiding my fault in it, either.

Control is important to me, and I just let it slip through my fingers.

CHAPTER13

Izzy

Iwipe my eyes for the millionth time, turning over in Dimitri’s bed.

We slept together once, and I guess we’re just calling it aflukefor now, but the idea of sleeping alone, even in this fortress of an apartment, has my heart running laps in my chest.

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