Billion Dollar Bad Boy (Big City Billionaires #1)(70)

At some point, he'd found the old code I'd used years ago to hack Old Stone. I think it must have been around the time he'd found some old designs of mine, or perhaps that had all been a ploy to dig through my files. It didn't matter.

He'd found the trail of my actions, and then he'd refined my program. I always said he was a genius. He was also dead to me.

I'd never forgive anyone that hurt Alexis.

And that was why I had no qualms handing all the evidence on my computer over to Detective Roose. And why I had no problem tweaking the code to remove any hint that I'd ever touched it in the past.

Florian could have all the credit.

I just wanted her.



“Now, don't be too impressed,” she said, setting the casserole dish on the table between us. “I make a pretty good macaroni and cheese bake. Not bragging.”

Chuckling, I folded my hands in front of me. It was the first time Alexis had let me into her home, a fact I'd brought up to her several times. Apparently, after being exposed to my own place, she'd been too nervous to show me where she lived.

How could she not realize that anyplace she was, was worth more than the most luxurious house in existence?

Waving steam away with an oven mitt, she beamed. “Look good?”

Squinting at the bright orange cheesy pile, I smiled. “Smells good.”

“Then dig in!”

We ate with occasional laughter, and the occasional fidgeting on her part. I had no control when it came to touching her leg under the table. When our plates were cleared, she poured us some wine.

Sipping the tangy drink, I nodded at her. “Thanks for making us dinner.”

“Oh, it was nothing.” She squeezed the glass tight. “I still don't know why you were so insistent on coming here. Wouldn't dinner at a fancy restaurant be nicer?”

“Maybe,” I said, feeling inside my pocket. “But I suspect you'd prefer privacy?”

Alexis crinkled her mouth. “For what?”

Gently, I slid the soft, black box across the table. It bumped her elbow, she nearly spilled her drink as she sat back in surprise. “What's this?” she asked, her palm cradling the box.

My smile was sly.

Setting her wine aside, she carefully opened it. Her eyes flashed between the gift, then me, then back again. “How?”

I was overjoyed with her reaction. “I don't think the pawn shop owner was expecting to sell those to someone just an hour after he'd bought them.”

Alexis lifted the earrings, the emerald depths stretching for miles in the light. Twisting them, she touched the silver edges in wonderment. “I didn't think I'd ever see them again.”

I didn't mention that I was glad she didn't throw them away when the post office worker tried to give them to her. I'd had to go retrieve the gift from him myself.

Curling my fingers around her wrist, I urged her closer. One by one, I clipped the earrings into place onto the perfect shells of her ears.

“How do they look?” she asked, cupping one.

“Much nicer than they did in a glass case.”

The fringe of her smile started to fade. “You hung onto these for weeks, why give them to me now?”

“Well,” I said, bending my knee to the floor. My insides flipped with how wide her eyes became, and the “o” shape of her mouth flushed me with desire. “I wanted to make sure that they matched perfectly with this.”

Withdrawing the ring from my pocket, I held it between us. The silver metal glinted, green emeralds made nearly black by the clarity of the diamond between them.

“Silver...” She whispered my name like a prayer.

Taking her left hand, I teased my fingers over her palm. “Marry me, Alexis. Come with me to LA and let me give you the life I stole. You wanted the big city dream, you wanted to explore your career and find who you were. Do that with me a your side. With me... as your husband.”

Alexis—my beautiful woman, my perfect pet—jumped to her feet. The chair fell over, clattering on her scuffed kitchen floors. My heart sank into the deepest part of my being. Is she going to say no?

Her whole arm trembled when she lifted it. I still held the ring, but I thought she was imagining it on her bare finger. “What about your company here?”

“I can find someone to run it. I said before, I own others. I'll even open a new one in Los Angeles, you can design outfits for it—whatever you want.”

“And you think that will help me find out who I really am?”

Fuck, I could feel my pulse all the way in my throat. “I do. And if not, I'll find out what will, and give you that.”

“Stop,” she said firmly. Leveling her eyes on me, she blinked as if she'd never seen me before. “Marriage, a dream career I gave up on forever ago? You don't need to do any of that for me. I might have missed out on the life I'd planned... but I already know who I am.”