Page 101 of Railing the Billionaire

He easily moved out of the way. And then, unexpectedly, he pulled out his phone and handed it to me.

I scrolled through his contacts and found Gabriel’s number. I tapped the screen to dial it.

This was going to be good.

Gabriel answered on the first ring. “Is she all right?”

“Aha!” I yelled in his ear. “You think you can ghost me? Well, you can’t. What do you think you’re doing hiring a guy to stalk me? And for the record, he’s doing a terrible job. I found him and with only a little threat, he gave you up.”

“He’s not hiding from you.”

That was…well…ugh.

“Why did you hire him?” I asked. “This is crossing a major line, and that is not cool. And we were having a nice conversation earlier and then you just dropped off. That is even less cool. Where are you right now? I want to see your face as I berate you.”

“I’ll text you the address. Let Harold drive you. It’s too far to walk.”

With that, he hung up.

A ding came from my pocket.

Scowling at the big guy, I asked, “Are you Harold?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I pulled out my own phone, and there was an address, just as Gabriel had said.

I was going to get my answers.

TWENTY-SIX

GABRIEL

I braced myself for Layana’s arrival, for the verbal lashing she’d inevitably assail me with. I would not apologize for sending security to watch over her. It was the right course of action, and I refused to pretend otherwise.

My biggest hesitation, though, was inviting her here.

To see the house, and meet the person who made me who I was.

Was this a mistake? It was spontaneous, reckless, and more like something Layana would do than I would. Yet she’d inspired me to make a quick, rash decision.

I wanted to let her in.

As I swiped the paintbrush across the wooden shutter, I listened for the sounds of her approach.

Before long, the grating sound of gravel crunching beneath tires let me know that she had arrived. A car door slammed.

“What are you doing?” she called out to me, with less fury in her voice than I’d expected.

“Painting.”

“Why?”

I could feel her drawing closer.

I said, “The shutters are due for a fresh coat before the spring showers and pollen begin.”

“This isn’t your house.”

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