Facade (Billionaire in Disguise 1)

“The trip to Vegas is approved, but I comb through everything. I’ll set up the stuff with your office and your home, but I dig into everyone you are to come into contact with. From the airline to the people working at the hotel we’ll be staying at.”

“I have my own private jet with its own personal staff,” he said.

“Figures. That’ll make my job easier. I want the staff logs.”

“They’re vetted by—”

“Let’s get one thing straight. If you don’t want to run, that’s your business. But I’m running this show. I’m saving your life. You give me what I want, and I have the tools to fix this shit. But if you don’t give me what I want, you end up dead. And that’s on you, not me. Hand over the logs so I can do my own research or bleed out. The choice is yours.”

My eyes hooked with him as fear crossed his features. I wasn’t playing around with this asshole anymore. I was tired of doing this little dance. He either listened to me or he was dead. That much was certain by tonight. He was still trying to flex whatever muscle he had over me, and it wasn’t going to work.

I wasn’t going to deal with it any longer.

“I’ll get you their files,” Derek said.

“Good. You’re dismissed for the night.”

Chapter 7

Derek

I COULD TELL SAM WASN’T happy about pretending to be my girlfriend. Her quip about our kissing showed me that, but I didn’t see the big deal. She looked great in the dress and walked the part just fine. She could obviously do her job in her heels, so it wasn’t like she would be at a disadvantage. I’d wine and dine her. Treat her like I would all my other girlfriends. She was getting more money out of this deal than anyone else would have.

What the hell was she so pissed about?

“Are you really upset at playing my girlfriend?” I asked.

“No, I’m upset you caved so easily to a little bit of digging from your friend.”

“Who’s fine, by the way. Thanks for asking.”

“He was undressing me with his eyes all night. I don’t care about him,” Sam said.

“He was what?”

“Oh, does it make you angry someone was staring at your fake girlfriend?”

“It does if I’m supposed to pretend to be your lover.”

“Boyfriend. Not lover. You’re really milking that kiss back there, which served its purpose, by the way.”

“You’re going to try and convince me that pulling my body into yours, touching your soft lips to mine, and allowing me to push you into the door was all to get me to calm down?”

“Better than you being drunk and me having to kick you down some stairs,” she said. “How do you even treat your girlfriends anyway? You buy them some jewelry, bring them back here for a half-decent night, then send them off with a kiss and a tap of the ass?”

“Hardly. I relish them with attention, open their doors, pick them up for dates, pay for everything, and romance them before I take their body on every surface I can put them on.”

“I wonder how that looks to your employees,” I said.

“What I do with my personal life is none of my employees’ business.”

“I meant more along the lines of us. We’ve already announced to people that I was your PA. Are we really flying with the fact that it was a cover because we didn’t want people to know we were dating? You’ve never been ashamed of who you date.”

“And you know this from your research?” I asked.

“From the pictures of you plastered all over the papers kissing random women every week, yes,” Sam said.

“Admit it. You’re curious as to how I treat my girlfriends.”