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Billion Dollar Bad Boy (Big City Billionaires #1)(32)

By:Nora Flite


Grabbing my dress, I started to slide it on. The top was ruined, it wouldn't keep me decent. Silver moved my way, I gave him a warning look. Instead of grabbing at me, he scooped his jacket off the floor, holding it out.

Warily I took it, sliding the heavy material around my body. It was saturated with his scent. It reminded me wretchedly of the first night we'd met. He'd given me his jacket to keep me warm... to protect me. As much as I didn't want it to, it made me feel safe.

A mountain was growing up and out of me. The pressure crushed my soul.

On bare feet I rushed towards the elevator. I didn't look back, it was an impossible task. If I just kept my eyes forward, I could make it out of this alive.

Before I could get into the sliding doors, he swiped out his palm and caught the edge, blocking me from entering. “Wait!” he growled, his fury rivaling my terror. “Just wait a fucking minute.”

Gritting my teeth, I ducked under his arm.

Amazingly, he didn't reach for me. I faced the glass windows, eyeing the city outside and willing myself to transport away from here. This is too much, I don't understand any of this! I need air, I need to get out!

Something solid landed by my feet, startling me. Glancing down, I saw it was my purse. Silver said, “Don't forget that. You'll need your phone to reach me.”

The elevator doors pinched together before I could reply. I didn't even know what I would have said, because honestly, I wasn't sure if I wanted to see this crazy man again.

It was raining outside. The doorman was taking shelter under the eaves when I burst past him. “Hey!” he shouted after me.

I didn't slow down.

Why did he pick me?

My bare heels splattered over the shining asphalt.

Why?

Headlights beamed at me, my lungs shredding from exertion.

WHY?

Cement bit into my feet, a slippery patch making me stumble. Clutching the jacket, I crumbled into a heap, my knees skidding and bleeding. A distant roar, like a coming tornado, filled my ears. I couldn't hear the cars, the horns, or the lingering people wandering in the night air.

Shaking so hard I expected my bones to come undone, I hugged my knees. Maybe I was crying, maybe it was the rain. It didn't even matter. There was no making sense of what had happened back there.

You should be scared, I told myself. Lifting my chin an inch, I glared at my raw knees. No. You should be pissed. Silver wasn't just some distant admirer. He was a bastard who'd led me into a game where he could conquer me, break me down, and keep me at his side.

But why pick me? It made no fucking sense!

“Are you alright?”

My head jerked up; I'd been picturing Silver so clearly that I expected him to be the one speaking. Instead, a police officer with a flashlight crouched over me. He offered a hand, shining the light in my eyes. “Did someone assault you? Are you injured?”

Swallowing, I let him help me to my feet. “I'm fine,” I lied.

He glanced down at my bare feet pointedly.

I smiled, but it was frail and ready to crack. “I left my shoes at a... friend's place.”

The cop clearly read 'friend' as hookup. His eyebrow quirked, his look of worry turning into one of amused defeat. I wasn't the only girl he'd find tonight doing a walk of shame.

“Let me give you a ride,” he sighed, thumbing at his parked car.

I came close to saying no. Overhead, thunder rampaged through the blackening clouds. I couldn't walk home the way I was, and taking a taxi didn't offer the same comfort as a police escort. I had no clue if Silver might come after me.

He knew where I lived, after all.

With a sheepish nod, I let the cop open the rear door of his car for me.

“It's messy out there,” he said, settling in the front. His hooded eyes peeked at me through the rear-view mirror. “I'm Officer Santile.”

Fingering the pockets of the jacket, I hunched my shoulders. “Alexis. Alexis Willow.”

I sounded too forlorn. His forehead crinkled. “You sure you're alright, Miss Willow?”

Not at all. “Yeah. Just a long evening.”

Officer Santile turned the engine over, leaving me to wallow. And I would have wallowed, I was in prime woe-is-me mode.

Inside the jacket pocket, something poked my finger.

Curious, I slid the tiny card into the air. There wasn't much light in the car, just the lazy bursts as we passed by buildings or other vehicles. It was enough, though, for me to read the words on the piece of stiff paper.

Keswick Silverwell

CEO of Pure Pleasure Inc.

1223 Avelera Ave, Portland OR

I breathed in through my nose, loud enough that Santile peered at me. “Ma'am?”

It's his business card. It has to be! Holy shit. Shaking myself, I stuttered, “I'm fine. Everything is fine back here.”

Tracing the edge of the card, I experienced my stomach flipping. I knew his name. I knew his actual fucking name. I even knew where he worked!