Illusion (Billionaire in Disguise 2)

How the fuck did I miss it? How the hell did I not see that coming? He was the only person I didn’t regard as a suspect, and that was because I’d allowed Derek’s opinion of him to influence me. In my defense, he had been fucking attacked in the parking garage, and with the angle of trajectory when it came to his wound, there was no way he could inflict it himself.

Had he paid someone to attack him? If so, who? Was it just a fluke? Something coincidental I had linked because of my own short-sightedness.

Even knowing who the hell had been threatening Derek still left me with more questions than answers.

“Sam?”

Derek’s voice, full of sleep and worry, caused me to shift and hiss in pain.

“Stop, stop, stop. Don’t try to move. Hold on.”

I heard a few beeps before the top of my hand felt cold.

“That should help with the pain,” Derek said.

“We need to talk,” I said. I clicked my

tongue on the roof of my mouth. Shit. It felt like I was chewing on cotton. My lips were chapped, and my tongue was sticking to the back of my teeth.

“Here, drink this,” Derek said.

I felt a straw dancing along my lips. I started to drink, moaning at the cold liquid sloshed around in my mouth. I sipped and sipped again. I heaved, and then I sipped some more. I drained the cup, not caring about what I looked like as a dribble of water crept from the side of my mouth.

It slid down my cheek, finding its end on Derek’s thumb as he wiped it across my skin.

“Th-Thanks.”

“Not a problem,” he said. “As far as talking, you can rest for now. You’re in a private care facility. No one can get to us here.”

“Except the guy down the hall,” I said. “I can’t fucking believe I missed that.”

“No one saw it coming. Even my security guards were stunned when I told them to keep an eye out for Jacob,” he said.

“It’s my job to see shit like this coming. I allowed your opinion of him to influence me from the beginning.”

“Sure. I’ll take the blame if you want me to.”

I tossed him a look as I pushed myself up in bed.

“Am I on a memory foam mattress?” I asked.

“Do you care?” Derek asked.

“Fine. Whatever. Look, we need to talk about where we go from here. Can you hand me my phone? I need to call John.”

“Already did. I figured you would want him to stay put, so I told him to stay stationed at the house. He knows you’ve been shot, but he also knows you’re stable.”

“You called John.”

“Yep.”

“And told him to stay at your house,” I said.

“Uh-huh.”

“Right. Okay. Well, we still need to figure out where to go from here.”

“There’s nowhere to go,” he said. “The case has been solved. We know who was stalking me and leaving those letters.”