The Billionaire's Girl

by Bella Fontaine

  Every time I went back to my apartment, he told me to take a bag and bring stuff over to his. All the necessities he’d added casually. Yesterday, I realized that half my stuff was there, and I saw that he’d hung my clothes in his wardrobe and cleaned out a drawer in his chest of drawers for me.

  I had to give him credit. He was smooth and fast.

  The voices sounded again, but it was what was said that made me still.

  “I will kill everyone you know.” That was what I heard.

  “I will kill. Every. One. You. Know,” the voice said again. It had a thick accent I couldn’t pinpoint.

  “Please, I need more time. He’ll decide next week. My brother is just being an ass.” That was another voice, but one I recognized.

  Patrick Arnaud…

  Chad’s brother.

  Curiosity got the better of me. Maybe it was that good old investigative journalist in me who made me jump in headfirst and think later. It made me move closer to where I heard them.

  I stood behind a door, in the crevice, where I could hide, and who I saw talking to Patrick shocked me to the core.

  Alessandro Salvatore.

  It was him. It really was him. He wore a knitted hat and a jacket with a high collar, but the tattoo on his neck was a dead giveaway. As were his sharp features. There was no mistake about it. That was absolutely him.

  Jesus Christ.

  What the hell? What the fucking hell?

  They knew each other.

  Patrick knew Alessandro.

  I started to shake when I remembered the report from the other week. That guy had been killed, and the police found his head in the dumpster.

  “That little reporter messed everything up,” Alessandro hissed.

  Reporter?

  That could only be me.

  “She did. Everything would have been signed over already if it wasn’t for her.”

  “You don’t have to tell me what I already know. Fool,” Alessandro snapped. Patrick looked scared. “We entered this deal. You help me with my problem by rebuilding the complex, and I take care of your substantially large debt you owe the Carlitos. Do you want both of us on your back? It wouldn’t be good. Trust me. I’d kill your father first, then your mother. Your brother, I’ll leave last because I know you don’t care much for him, but you get the fucking point.”

  “I understand.” Patrick nodded. His voice carried across the room.

  “Good. Now, get it done. Can’t transfer money if there’s no real estate to transfer it to. It looks suspicious.”

  My God. This was what was really happening.

  This was it. The whole deal with the complex was to do with this.

  That’s why nothing made sense. It wasn’t supposed to.

  Then I happened.

  I took a step to leave, but my hands were shaking so much I dropped the biscuit tin. And fuck, both men turned and saw me.

  Alessandro scowled, but it was Patrick who scared me the most.

  The look on his face was pure evil.

  “Look who it is. I was in the mood to kill today,” Alessandro snarled at me.

  I backed away to run, but he pulled out a gun from his back pocket and I froze.

  Tears streamed down my cheeks, and my heart hammered in my chest.

  Patrick placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a toothy grin.

  “I have a much better idea. Way better,” he told Alessandro, and darkness filled his eyes.

  Chapter 16

  Chad

  I didn’t know where Billie was. I looked for her everywhere, and she wasn’t answering her phone.

  It was nearly six, and I’d left for home just before lunch. I went to the florist to get some dahlias, her favorite flowers.

  I expected her to be home, my house, but she wasn’t there. She wasn’t at her place either, and Zoila said she hadn’t heard from her all day.

  I went to her mom’s, and while it wasn’t how I’d wanted to meet her mom for the first time, I didn’t know where else to look. She, too, said she hadn’t seen Billie all day.

  So, here I was, back at home. Maurice was here too, calling around. He was in the kitchen. I’d walked out into the garden to get some air.

  I was going insane with worry.

  Where the hell was she?

  Maurice rushed out to the garden, looking panicked.

  “What is it? You found her?” I had a bad feeling something had happened.

  “Security has footage of her entering the Arnaud building at lunchtime.”

  “What!” My hand flew up to my forehead. “I didn’t see her.”

  “You left at one, didn’t you?”

  I nodded. “Yes, it was maybe just after one.”

  “The footage has her going in the building at one seventeen.”

  “We were minutes apart.” Seventeen minutes apart. “So, she’s at work? At the Arnaud building?”

  “Chad, they did a full sweep of the place. She’s not anywhere.”

  “Then where is she?”

  I glanced at my watch and saw it was six on the mark. I pulled out my phone to try and call her again and winced when I saw a message.

  It was from a number that wasn’t saved in my phone.

  I opened it thinking maybe Billie got lost somewhere and used someone’s phone to message me.

  As the message opened, I nearly died.

  It was a picture message.

  The picture was of Billie tied up and gagged with a gun at her head.

  The text read:

  Come to the docks with a pen ready to sign your agreement to the project or your girl gets a bullet between her eyes. And no cops.

  “We should have called the cops,” Maurice hissed.

  We’d just pulled up at the docks.

  I couldn’t answer. Of course, I knew he was right, but in my mind, calling the cops would only make whoever doing this mad. They might kill Billie.

  I couldn’t believe this was happening. She was in danger because of me.

  It was my idea to pull the stops on the plans going ahead, and now it was blowing up in my face.

  But then, how was I supposed to know that Patrick would align himself with a psychopath?

  Had to be this Alessandro Salvatore who had Billie. It had to be him.

  This was going to drive me insane. I didn’t know how I managed to breathe because I couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to her.

  “Chad.” Maurice grabbed my arm before I stepped out of the car.

  I settled back in. “What? And don’t you dare tell me not to go in.”

  “I wasn’t going to. There’s something on my mind. There’s footage of Billie going into the Arnaud building but nothing of her coming out. But yet she’s here. The back-exit cameras haven’t worked in months.”

  “Billie wouldn’t know about the back exit.”

  “Exactly.”

  “It has to be Alessandro, Maurice.”

  “I don’t doubt that, but he seems to know an awful lot. Like what would make you come here and sign the papers.”

  I narrowed my eyes. I never thought of that. “Billie. He knew that holding Billie over me would make me come here. But how? The story on us shouldn’t have shown what she means to me.”

  “No. It wouldn’t, but there was someone else who knew what she meant to you, and the person I’m thinking of would have the back access code password to get into the building.”

  I shook my head in disbelief as it dawned on me. “Not Patrick. He’s an ass, but this isn’t him.”

  “It could be. How else would this happen?”

  “Damn it.” I thought for a moment. Thinking about what to do.

  “I’m going to get the cops. You go in and… try not to die. But I’m going to get the cops. Strength in numbers and skill.”

  I didn’t like the idea, but it was the best thing we could do now.

  I stepped out of the car and walked to the boardwalk.

  What a nightmare. This was a fuck
ing nightmare.

  Billie

  There were two things my father taught me when I was little. Both were lessons taught when he took me camping.

  I hated camping because of the prospect of bugs climbing in my sleeping bag, and bears mauling me to death, but I never forgot his lessons.

  The first lesson was how to undo any kind of knot. Dad had been an Eagle Scout and a Marine for five years, up until I was eight. So, he’d passed his wisdom on to me. The second lesson was how to use the stars as a guide if I ever got lost. I never got the hang of that last lesson. The first, however, was one I had hands down.

  These jerks had me tied up and gagged for hours, but what they didn’t realize was I was slowly loosening the knot of the rope around my hands with a paperclip I’d grabbed when we first got here.

  They’d shoved me on the floor when I saw it, grabbed it, and hid it within the palms of my hand.

  Only God knew how hard I prayed I’d be able to pull this off without being caught. Only God and his heavenly host of angels because the fear of everything resided in my soul.

  They would kill me. I knew they would. There was nothing to stop them from doing it.

  After all, I’d caused enough trouble.

  Salvatore was a killer, so he wouldn’t think twice if I begged for mercy, and Patrick looked like a desperate man. A person who would do anything to save his skin.

  Even if that meant killing. Killing me.

  They’d left me alone about five minutes ago, and I’d loosened the bonds from my wrists. Shaking them free and ripping the gag from over my mouth.

  I kicked off the rope around my ankles. That was easier to remove with my hands functional.

  Once that was off, I didn’t waste time. I’d been eyeing escape routes the whole time I’d been here. The vent at the bottom of the wall, just above the skirting board, was my plan A.

  I rushed over to it and shuffled the flap, lifting it with ease because it was covered in rust. Thank goodness, the place was old, so a meager thing like a vent was probably the last thing anyone would maintain.

  Of course, the next worry was, what was inside and where did the vent lead to? I was prepared to find myself hurtling into the sea. Although landing myself in the sea at night, by the docks, would be awful, it would be better than being trapped inside the damn warehouse with two psychos who could kill me.

  Taking a massive breath, I crouched down and went inside. So far, so good. It just seemed dark.

  I didn’t know where it would take me, but right now, it was my only escape. I shuffled around to close the flap. It would be obvious that this was where I went when they came back to check on me, but hopefully by then, I’d be long gone.

  I knew they’d contacted Chad, and I knew he would come. I wished he wouldn’t because him coming here meant he’d be in danger. I didn’t think either of them would hesitate to kill him too.

  Maybe he was here now. What I didn’t know was what would happen next.

  Ahead was an opening.

  I gasped and moved faster. The light from wherever that was broke through the darkness, allowing me to see better. I stopped at the flap and looked through the squared pattern.

  It looked like someone’s office. Where I’d been before was a type of storage room. But this was definitely an office. There was a metal desk with a chair behind it and documents on the desk. A coat was tossed over the back of the chair with one of those yellow hazard vests. That one said Fire Warden.

  Swiveling around, I used my feet to kick the flap as quietly as I could. Doing that with my heart going a thousand beats per minute.

  Jesus, if I made it through this, it would be a tale to tell. Zoila’s tale. She was the one out of the two of us who wanted to do a mafia story. That fate saw fit to land me in the middle of my own was complete beyond me.

  The flap came free, and I shuffled around to get myself out headfirst.

  The first thing I did when I came out was move the desk cabinet over to the vent to block the light from the office. The office seemed to be one with those permanent overhead lights, and I didn’t have time to wander around looking for a switch to turn it off.

  I didn’t know if covering the vent would work, but I prayed. That was just in case they followed me down the vent.

  I was doing some serious thinking on my feet here. Making sure I was safe first and out of the way of danger before I made my next move.

  Basically hiding.

  The next thing I did was make sure the door was locked from the inside. There was a turn-style lock on it, like the ones you’d find in a bathroom cubicle. There was also a bolt at the top and one at the bottom.

  I locked all of them. With that done, I dashed to the phone and dialed Chad’s number.

  He answered on the first ring.

  “Chad,” I gasped in a hurried voice.

  “Baby, where are you?” He sounded so worried and panicked.

  “I’m in the warehouse at the end of the dock. It’s the one that has a big fish on the top of the gates at the entrance. But please, don’t come. Call the police. I managed to escape and hide. Stay away.”

  “I love you,” he breathed.

  Those words pulled at the walls of my chest, clutched my heart, and made it soar right into the sky and beyond.

  “I love you too,” I told him and smiled to myself. Time didn’t need to tell me that. I remembered Mom’s story about her and Dad.

  They didn’t need time either, and they’d spend every day in love with each other. I’d seen it for myself and always basked in it.

  I felt that and so much more now.

  He chuckled in his usual way. “You can tell me again when you see me. I want to see your face when you say that. Billie, I’m outside.”

  I winced and covered my mouth to keep the fear in.

  “No, please. Go back.”

  “I can’t. I can’t because I love you, and I’m so sorry this happened to you because of me.”

  “No, Chad. This is me. I landed myself in this.” Of course, I did. It wasn’t as if I was kidnapped from my house or someplace like that. I’d landed myself in this mess. Big time. It stemmed right back to the night I’d met him. I’d basically declared war, although I didn’t know it at the time. “It’s my fault. Chad, it’s Salvatore and Patrick. They both took me.”

  “Oh God, Billie. I thought it was Patrick because taking you is the only thing that could get me here to sign the documents. They took you because they know what you mean to me.”

  “Chad, please, just go before it’s too late. Call the police, and I’ll hide.” Tears streamed down my cheeks.

  Sure, I would hide. But for how long?

  It wasn’t a childish game of hide and seek. This was real. The real deal with extremely bad people who would be pissed off when they found out what I’d done.

  “The police should be on the way, Billie, but I’m here, and I ….” His voice trailed off.

  “Drop it!” yelled another voice. A voice I’d come to recognize all too well.

  Patrick. He was with Chad!

  “Drop it!” Patrick bellowed again, wild and feral like an animal.

  I heard the phone drop, and the line went dead.

  I winced thinking I had to do something. I had to go to him and save him.

  However, I had my own misfortune to deal with.

  A knock sounded at the door from the other side, and I heard a laugh. A deep, hearty laugh.

  Salvatore’s deep, hearty laugh.

  “Pretty, pretty,” he teased, reminding me of a pirate. “Someone’s been naughty, trying to escape. Girly, did you really think that would work?”

  Not that I was going to answer him, but I pulled in a deep gasp and shrieked when he fired a gun and the shot blasted into the metal door.

  “I’m coming to get you,” he promised, and I believed him.

  Chapter 17

  Chad

  “So, this is what it’s come to?” I stared at Patrick long and hard.

/>   My brother held a gun to me, ready to pull back that trigger and let it go.

  He’d pull it back, and the bullet would go straight to my heart, killing me.

  My brother.

  I knew he was evil, but this…

  I’d never expected it, and if anyone had ever told me this would happen, I wouldn’t have believed them at all.

  No. No way.

  The cool night air lifted the ends of his hair, and it danced about him, making him look wilder than he was.

  “Yessssss,” he said, hanging on the end of the word like he relished it. Like he would love to see me gone.

  “Why do you hate me?” I had to ask. It was personal.

  It was laughable, but fuck, it was personal. My brother was holding a gun to my head, and I kind of wanted to know why.

  “Where do I start? There’s the whole issue of you being a thorn in my damn side, always preventing me from doing what I need to do, and this last time… well, it speaks for itself.”

  “You’d kill me because I’ve always been a thorn in your side?” I couldn’t believe it.

  “Chad, I need you to sign the agreement, so the project can go ahead. I need that to happen now. Not next week like you arranged with Dad, although I suppose that wasn’t going to happen either.”

  “What happened? How did this happen? I know about Salvatore and the offshore accounts. You have plenty of money. Why do you need this?”

  He laughed a deep, maddening laugh that echoed in the night.

  “The money’s not mine. The account’s in my name, but the money’s not mine.”

  Okay, so that was a version of what Maurice had said, but he was right. Patrick was being used, and I sensed money laundering.

  “I used the company money to gamble. I bet on the Jets winning the last game, and I lost. I lost over a million dollars.” His laughter continued. “I lost a million dollars of company money because I’d gone broke gambling my own. So, I contacted a bookie from the Carlito family. They helped me replace the money, but I was to pay double the loan. That was the interest, and I took it.”