Page 57 of The Billionaire and the Maid

“Where the fuck is she going?” I say to no one in particular. I turn to the valet. “Bring me my car.”

He nods. “Uh, yes, sir.” He rushes off and comes back a few minutes later. His face is red, and he looks scared.

“Uh, Mr. M-Marino, your car is…well, we can’t get to it right now,” he stammers.

“Christ,” I mutter as I pull up a car service app and wait for a ride to appear. While I’m waiting, I look down at the shoe in my other hand. I hold it up to the lights along the drive. No. It can’t be. All this time? She had them. I squint, just making out the small carving of my grandfather’s name. For years, my family has searched for the whereabouts of the famed butterfly crystal shoes my grandfather made but never sold. He said he gave them away, but he never said to whom. My father was obsessed with it for a while because those crystals are worth a fortune. Hell, the shoes are easily a million dollars. Does she know?

My phone pings and I look up as a car pulls into the drive. I open the passenger door and climb in, urging the driver to hurry as he takes me to Ella’s apartment.

“Wait! Stop!” I yell before he can pull out of the drive. I look over to see Ella’s friend Gus and his boyfriend, David.

I roll down the window. “Gus!” I scream. He sees me and hurries over.

“Have you seen Ella?” he asks as he looks around the car as if he’s expecting to see her sitting next to me.

"No. She left. Do you know where she’s going?” I ask frantically.

He shakes his head and frowns. “She was just at the bar. I don’t understand,” he mumbles.

David nudges him. “Maybe ask Greta?”

Gus nods and pulls out his phone, typing away. His phone pings immediately and he frowns as he reads the message.

“What is it?” I demand, my voice coming out with more anger than I’d thought.

“She’s…uh, she’s gone?” he answers as if he isn’t sure.

“What did Greta say?” I ask.

“She just said that Ella needed to leave, and it was sort of an emergency situation and she’d be back in a few days.” He pauses. “What the fuck? Hold on, I’m texting Ella again. And Greta.

“Ella’s phone’s off. And Greta says she’ll explain later,” Gus adds.

“Fuck. Sir, can you please hold on a second? I just need to run inside. I’ll be right back,” I say as I pass him a fifty-dollar bill.

“Sure thing, man,” the guy replies as he puts the car in park. I jump out and the three of us take off up the stairs. I search wildly around until my vision locks on Greta. She’s talking to my grandfather. I storm across the room. She sees me as I approach as does my grandfather who steps in front of her.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Ask. Your. Date,” I grit out from behind clenched teeth.

Greta steps next to Nonno.

Her head is held high, and she looks at me likeI’mthe problem. “If you’re looking for your date, she had something come up and had to leave. I don’t know where she went and I’m not sure when she’ll be back.”

I run a hand through my hair. I can feel my anger boiling. I need to calm down, I think to myself.

I take a deep breath. “I need to know where she’s at, Greta.”

“Maybe you should think more about your own behaviors and who you entrust information to,” she states with a glare. What the fuck does that mean?

Nonno steps in front of her. “It sounds like she’s fine, Chase. Why don’t you go and enjoy your evening? I’m sure she’ll contact you when she can.”

Fuck. I guess I’m not getting answers from Greta, although it’s clear that she knows something. I look around us. A few people are watching. I decide more questions can wait. I’m going after Ella.

I turn and head to the car. At the doors of the ballroom, I look back and see Gus talking to Greta. His eyes dart toward me and he looks pissed. He stalks across the room like he’s a lion and I’m a gazelle. His finger comes up to my face.

“You stay away from Ella. She’s too good for you,” he says, his voice eerily low and calm.

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