by Mia Caldwell
Safehouse
A BWWM Billionaire Romance
Mia Caldwell
Copyright 2015, All Rights Reserved
[email protected]
www.amazon.com/author/miacaldwell
Safehouse
By Mia Caldwell
The rules of the witness protection plan are simple… Keep your mouth shut, and live long enough to testify.
Maybe I should have added a new rule to that list… Don’t fall in love with the sexy billionaire who has sworn to protect me…
Of course… I’ve never been very good at following the rules…
Safehouse is a full standalone BWWM Billionaire Romance Novel with a happy-ever-after and NO CLIFFHANGER!
© 2015 Mia Caldwell
All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author’s imagination.
Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters represented as 18 or over.
Kindle Edition
Want more exclusive Mia Caldwell stories, including notification of new releases that are all FREE with your Kindle Unlimited subscription? Sign up for the Mia Caldwell mailing list by clicking right here!
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
(Back to Table of Contents)
Chapter 1
I woke with a start, my eyes darting around and taking in my surroundings, making sure I was still safe. I wasn’t sure whether I was woken up by the plane’s turbulence, or my recurring nightmare… Although the sweat that accumulated around my hairline gave me the answer.
It was the nightmare.
Taking in a deep breath, I tried calming myself down as I looked out the round window on my right. Even thousands of feet up in the air, I felt like a hunted animal. I was trying to escape… Trying to overcome everything I’d seen, everything that was going on, and everything that resulted from my testimony. It wasn’t going to be easy.
In fact, it’s going to be pretty damn difficult, I thought to myself.
Blinking back the tears, I exhaled and shook out my hands. The last thing I needed was to have a panic attack somewhere over the middle of the freaking Atlantic Ocean.
Beneath the body of the plane was nothing but dark blue water for as far as the eye could see. There was not a cloud in the sky, and the sun was just beginning to set on the horizon. It was hard to admire a scene so tranquil when I couldn’t feel that same peace inside.
Images of that insane night rotated through my mind, flickering like ruined pieces of a film reel. I bit my lip and tried to concentrate by thinking of other things. The night played on in my head regardless…
I was working another late night at the hotel, filling in for Rosita so that she could help watch her grandchildren. It was the least I could do after Rosita had helped me out so many times before. The top level of the hotel was specifically reserved for its higher-paying clientele—and most of us hotel workers knew—that meant some pretty dangerous people were roaming the halls. It was an unspoken agreement to keep quiet and never make eye contact, which probably saved our necks more times than I could count.
While cleaning one of the last rooms along the expansive row of penthouses I heard some arguing going on inside another room across the hall. This wasn’t too common, but I was smart and had learned to mind my own business and keep my head low. When the arguing turned to shouting, I looked to the barely-used walkie-talkie on my cart and wondered whether I should radio in for security or not.
But I never got the chance.
The next thing I knew, the door to that room flew open, and out strolled someone that even I, a nobody of a girl from Brooklyn knew. It was the head of the Five Families, Angelo Verdicci.
Angelo ran the city’s underground with an iron fist, probably hoping to go down in history as one of the roughest heads of the Mafia there ever was. When he came walking past me, eyeing me all suspiciously, I nearly bolted right then and there.
I gotta hurry up and finish school so I can get away from all of this, I had thought to myself, hoping he would continue walking down the hall without looking back. I noticed he didn’t have his usual slew of beefy bodyguards. When you’re the crime boss of one of the most dangerous cities in the world, you don’t fly solo anywhere…
Which might have been the reason it was so easy for the other man who came out of the room behind him to shoot Angelo in the back of the head.
Even living in Port Morris my whole life, I had never been this close to a gun going off. The noise was unlike anything else I’d ever heard. My brain rattled and a piercing ring resounded through my ears, muffling everything that came after.
I sat there whimpering as I dropped to the ground, hoping to God that the man wouldn’t carelessly dispose of me too. I didn’t know who he was—probably just another gangster—and when he turned to face me with his gun cocked back I sobbed. This was the end. All I could do was pray it would be a swift death. There’d be no begging on my part. He wouldn’t be merciful. I’d seen his face.
Instead of a gunshot, there was a loud thump. When I finally opened my eyes, the man had been tackled by two huge men who were both trying to wrestle the gun away from him. A shot fired out, then two. I could see the cold-eyed man pulling himself out from under his dead attackers, but I didn’t hesitate this time. I launched myself into the elevator and hammered the ground floor button.
Every single moment that happened from there was just a random piece of my memory, trying to fit in to the puzzle that led me to where I was now. On a plane, heading for a completely new life somewhere in France. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, there was no more Amira Jackson. The news said I died in that hotel hallway, and witness protection was going to make sure I stayed dead.
(Back to Table of Contents)
Chapter 2
The flight attendant’s voice came over the PA system, announcing our arrival at Paris-Charles De Gaulle. I frowned, not sure whether I should wait until Agent Wilson came to help me out, or if I was to wait once I got inside the airport. I could barely remember anything the grumpy government worker had told me right before we boarded on the plane. The plane descended slowly, tilting downward and causing my stomach to twist and turn on itself. I had sworn up and down my whole life that I would never fly in a plane, yet there I was doing just
that. I was not a happy camper.
I nearly grabbed the brown paper bag in front of me, watching helplessly as the ground came rushing up at us, the city of Paris lighting up before my very eyes. After the feeling subsided, I wondered what time it was there in France. I never thought I would need to know that kind of thing, at least not before I was put under witness protection.
Unbuckling my seatbelt, I glanced up and down the long aisles looking for Agent Wilson. He was dressed up as your typical tourist, trying to blend in. Finally I caught sight of him, his baseball cap pulled down low over his forehead. Is he still sleeping?
I waited for most of the plane to empty before standing up to grab my bags overhead. Agent Wilson was still in the exact same position, not moving. Even though I knew I shouldn’t worry, dread was starting to unfurl deep in my stomach. I’d been so paranoid and full of anxiety lately. This whole thing had taken over my life in more ways than one.
I quietly walked up to the man responsible for my safety and tapped him on the shoulder to see if he was awake. He tilted his head back and glanced up at me from under his hat.
“Have a nice flight?”
I pursed my lips and scoffed, knowing damn well he was being completely sarcastic to me.
“Well, we didn’t die, so that’s always a plus.”
My agent’s face was grim, nodding. “Too true, too true. Let’s keep the record going, shall we?”
He escorted me off the plane and we walked into the booming airport, filled with thousands of people running back and forth speaking a language I couldn’t begin to decipher. I sighed, already missing home.
We picked up the rental car that the U.S. government happily paid for on my behalf and took off into the night. I knew my body was tired, but my mind was buzzing full of hectic frenzy. I wasn’t willing to sleep anytime soon.
It didn’t take long for us to arrive at the small dingy hotel we were staying at for the night, and I was finally looking forward to relaxing. When we picked up the single room key, I was quickly changing my mind. The whole lack of privacy thing is a big issue for me.
“I know what you’re thinking Miss Jackson,” Agent Wilson said in a low tone, “but there’s nothing we can do. I have to keep a watchful eye over you, and I can’t do that if you’re in the next room over. As awkward as this will be, just know that I am trying to be professional here.”
I rolled my eyes at the use of my new pseudonym. Of course they would choose some stupid new name for me. Bree Jackson. I spent a few days fuming over that, once the detective that headed my case gave over my new identity file. Flipping through it made me feel like I was on the outside of my life, looking in. Of course I was grateful for the help—and for being under the protection of Agent Wilson—but all I really wanted to do was to get my mind off of everything that had gone down over the past few months.
“I understand. I just hope that you understand that you’re going to be sleeping on the couch,” I replied, shrugging. Professional or not, I wasn’t giving up the bed.
The room was in much better condition than the outside of the place. There were clean linens on the bed and newer furniture throughout the small space. I dumped my bag and suitcase onto the queen-sized bed and stretched my back. Sitting on that long plane ride and then immediately hopping into a car was not doing me any favors.
Agent Wilson went ahead and set up his part of the room, fluffing up the throw pillow on the couch before he laid out.
“I suggest you go ahead and get some rest. It won’t be that long of a trek to our destination, but I know how bad jet lag affects most people the next day. You’re probably up and raring to go at the moment, but before you know it it’ll be daylight and you’ll be tired and pretty cranky,” he insisted, folding his arms behind his head and closing his eyes.
I crossed my own arms and sat down on the edge of the bed, gritting my teeth. “You have no idea what I’ll be like, so don’t pretend that you know me. Because you don’t.”
Agent Wilson opened one eye, and regarded me for a moment before smiling. “You say that now Miss Jackson, but believe me you’ll be hating life in the morning. Why don’t you just make my life easier and go ahead and get some sleep?”
I huffed, pursing my lips. Agent Wilson had a bad habit of talking down to me. I got up to get myself a glass of water, firing off one last little shot. “I’ll go to sleep when I’m ready, thanks.”
I frowned, hoping that I wouldn’t have to deal with Agent Wilson too much longer. He was a nice guy and all, but he was a little bit of… a dick.
After a few minutes the soft snoring coming from the couch told me he was out. Well, so much for being on the lookout and whatnot.
I must have finally fallen asleep at some point in the night, drifting in and out of it. Before I knew it was daytime already, and Agent Wilson was dressed and waking me up.
"Okay Miss Jackson, it's time to get on up. We have some work to do. It's not gonna take that long to get to our location, but before we do that I just want to make you aware that we are under surveillance. I don't want to scare you or anything, but it's what we do. We have to make sure that everything is set up the way it's supposed to be. So what's gonna happen is when we go into the location—and I will give you more information about that on the way there—I will be going in first. And then after I ensure that the area is clear and safe for you, I will be bringing you in after me. It's that simple. Got it?"
(Back to Table of Contents)
Chapter 3
The next couple of hours found me with my hand hanging out of the car window, letting the wind run through my fingers, the wide open sky looming above us. It was the first time I had a chance to breathe in I don’t even know how long, so I took as many deep and desperately needed breaths as I could get.
Agent Wilson kept glancing over at me from the driver’s seat. I knew I probably looked crazy, almost like a dog with its tongue wagging in the breeze. But I didn’t care.
I had to admit that the trip to wherever our final destination was, was a sight for sore eyes. The crowded lanes of traffic from the city had given way to twisty roads that seemed to go on indefinitely. The countryside was breathtaking—like something I had only seen in pictures and paintings. There were rolling hills topped with small farms and pretty little lakes that reflected the late morning sky. I couldn’t believe I’d been living in a city of concrete and metal when this whole time there was something out there that looked like this.
The roads were getting even narrower, and a few times Agent Wilson had to wait for others to pass the road on the opposite side, so as to not graze their cars. Those big honking SUVs that we love in America wouldn’t stand a chance around here, I mused.
A faint mountain range was detectable through the morning haze, way off in the distance. Mountains? I thought. I had no idea there were mountains in France, which made me feel silly and uneducated.
I watched as the edges of them became sharper in contrast with the sky, the clouds above them seeming to just sit there, without moving. I wanted to keep my eyes on them, but between the music that Agent Wilson turned on in the tiny car, and the abundantly clear jet lag I was suffering from, I could barely keep my eyes open.
By the time I did manage to open them back up, we were just getting ready to drive through an honest-to-God mountain tunnel. You know those ones that you always see in the Roadrunner cartoons—the ones that the coyote is always painting on the rocky mountainsides, hoping for the bird to crash into? Yeah, just like that, but without the wacky Acme products.
The lights that dotted both sides of the tunnel made me dizzy as we flew past them. I rubbed my temples, trying to fight the yawn that was coming. Jesus, how did anyone travel internationally and deal with this?
When we came out the other side of the tunnel I gasped. It was like being transported to a new world. The rolling hills were now paired with craggy rocks covered in the same moss and lavender that were also hanging from different stone buildings on one of the hills
ides. Off to the right of us was a tiny village, where all of the houses and a church had matching high-pitched red-tiled roofs. They looked as though they had been there for centuries. Perhaps they had.f
We were going down into the valley that lay between the smaller mountains. There were a few more farms there, spread out and covered in all sorts of different crops. Some had wheat fields, others had fields of brightly colored flowers. The cows that were moseying around one of the open grassy fields are what really threw me for a loop.
See, I had never been outside of the New York/New Jersey area. I’d never even been to upstate New York, where I knew it looked much closer to this than Brooklyn ever would. I wondered if we would be stopping along here, somewhere. Maybe I’d be working on a farm from now on. Maybe I’d be the one milking those cows in the morning.
We passed right through, just as we had been doing.
“How much further?” I asked, reaching forward to pull out my chapstick. I knew one thing—my lips were already feeling the change in altitude.
