Hacking His Code (Beguiling a Billionaire Book 7), page 2
Enter.
Done.
Twelve seconds to spare.
* * *
Chicken Dinner: Winner, Winner! Now, you wait.
* * *
Wait? My stomach twists in knots, suddenly sure this was a bad idea.
Ideally, I would have demanded half my fee up front, but with the timer going, I thought it best to collect on the backend. And it appears Chicken Dinner might be stalling.
I exhale an angry breath, flex my fingers, and begin typing a scathing message into the text box, telling Mr. Dinner that if he doesn’t pay up, he’s going to find himself hacked out of a house and home.
As I’m typing, a pounding sounds against my apartment door. Dreadful slamming that shakes the windows.
Oh, no…
After three loud bangs, the door flies open, and men dressed in black come pouring into my living room.
“This is entrapment!” I yell, jumping to my feet.
But it’s no use. These aren’t your average cops. They’re not even FBI, for that matter. I don’t think Homeland Security operates like this, but I guess there could be some covert branch.
A man reaches for my arm. “You’re coming with me.”
“Like hell, I am!” I shout, taking a paperweight from my desk and hurling it at his face, connecting with his chin.
“Mother-fucker!” the man gasps, cradling his jaw.
I fight like a banshee against arms reaching for me, grabbing, pulling, subduing.
It’s no use.
Apparently, I really was being watched. They were just waiting for a slip, and now, instead of getting due process, I’m probably going to be thrown into some black hole for posing a national security risk.
Hunter
A gruff voice crackles through the walkie talkie. “Sir, we’ve subdued the subject.”
That’s funny.
I press a button to respond. “Subdued? What do you mean by subdued? I asked you to take her in.”
“And that’s what we’re doing.”
“You’re not using force, are you? I merely said take her to me, not kidnap her.”
“Sir, you hired a group of mercenaries and bounty hunters to bring a target to you. This is how we operate.”
“Target? She’s not a target—”
“We’ll be there in twenty,” the voice cuts in. “Over.”
Shit!
Arinessa
Fighting back was useless. I was easily bested.
As soon as they subdued me, a hood was thrown over my head, and shackles secured over my wrists, which were bent awkwardly behind my back. They didn’t even bother to read me my rights.
Instead of going down the three flights of stairs to the bottom floor, the burly men drag me up to the rooftop. For a brief moment, I had worried they were going to throw me off the building, but when the maintenance door opened, instead of being murdered, I was loaded onto a helicopter and thrown into a cage.
Thankfully, it was only a short ride to our destination, and now that the helicopter has landed, I wait for what comes next.
When something terrible happens, waiting is the worst part. I know that sounds insane, but it’s the absolute truth.
When I was caught hacking all those years ago, the part that damn near gave me a heart attack was waiting in that interrogation room for someone to show up. It took hours, and I swear, I developed a full-blown ulcer from it.
“Whaddaya suppose he wants with her?” a husky voice says.
“She’s cute, but I doubt a man with his deep pockets and pretty boy good looks needs to do this to get laid,” a masculine voice says back.
Get laid?
Suddenly, I worry that I’m going to pass out. It hadn’t occurred to me that I might be raped.
“He sure went through a lot of trouble to have us pick her up. Wonder why?” the husky voice continues.
The other guy exhales in frustration. “That’s not for us to know.”
Hinges creak as the cage opens. Hands grab me, removing me aggressively from the cage first, then the helicopter. I’m dragged, my knee scraping on cement.
Maybe I’m being sent to Guantanamo Bay? Or some black ops location that no one knows about? That doesn’t make sense, though. With how the men were talking, I doubt it’s a government operation.
Which means it’s a personal grudge.
Finally, the men stop, and someone shouts, “Seventy-eighth floor,” indicating that I’m on an elevator.
The floor lurches. The sound of heavy breathing sets me further on edge.
I can’t believe I was so stupid. I’m never going to see my parents again, and they’re never going to know what happened to me.
Bile fills my throat, but the last thing I want is to throw up in the hood, so I choke it down.
“Bossman’s gonna like this pretty thing.” I feel a hand caress my elbow, and I jump away, colliding with one of the other men.
“Leave her alone,” a voice growls. “That is not what this team is about.”
“Have you seen her pretty thighs, though?”
Oh my God—I’m being sex trafficked! Is this revenge from the men I spied on before?
Terrified, I kick my leg hard into something solid.
“Shit—”
Arms grab me from behind, and I twist my body back and forth, trying to resist.
There is no way I’m going willingly to whatever devious place they have ready for me. I’d rather die.
The elevator dings, and I hear the door slide open. Hands grab my shackled arms. I lurch my head as hard as I can in the opposite direction, kicking a leg up and connecting with a solid mass.
“Dammit!” a man gasps.
“What the hell is going on?” a new voice shouts.
Ten hands are on me at once, twisting, pulling, dragging.
“What is the meaning of this—let her go!”
“Sir, that is ill-advised. As you can see—”
“What I see is you kidnapping a woman!”
“Sir, our orders were—”
“Your orders were to bring her back to me. If you ran into any trouble, you were to assure her that she’d be handsomely rewarded.”
“Hmmm….did you mean to say she would be handsomely rewarded?”
“Yeah, what did you think I said?”
“I thought you meant that if the target posed a threat, tell the men that they would be handsomely rewarded.”
“Jesus Christ—get the bag off of her head. Take her shackles off.”
Adrenaline courses through my veins, and even though I clearly heard that I’m to be released, I can’t bring myself to trust them, and as soon as their hands drop from me, I dart blindly forward.
“She’s loose!” a man shouts.
I get five steps before running straight into and barreling over something in my way, sending me crashing downward.
A groan comes from underneath me. That something in my way was a someone.
Footsteps sound. They’re on me again, hands grabbing my arms.
“Would you like us to tie up her feet?” a voice says.
“No—let her go!”
“Even after—”
“What you’re doing is illegal. Undo the shackles, remove the hood, and leave so I can make this right.”
Hands sit me upright. Pressure is relieved from my wrists. The hood slides off, but I can’t see because I’m blinded by my hair, which got disheveled during the struggle. I shake my head, pull my hair back, and look down to see a suited man on the floor beneath me.
He’s handsome, a businessman judging from his attire. His hair is chocolate brown, tousled from the fall. His eyes are warm honey, and if I’m not mistaken, he’s jovial.
I hate him for that.
Hunter
Dark hair tumbles from the hood covering Arinessa’s face. Her newly-freed hands frantically smooth the unruly strands, tucking them behind her ear.
“You’re going to be alright,” I assure her.
“Who the hell are you? And what the fuck am I doing here?” she says frantically, falling back on her butt and shimmying away.
“You can all leave,” I say to the mercenaries as I climb to my feet.
A big one named Bruce says, “Are you sure you don’t want us to stay? She puts up quite a fight and a pretty boy like yerself—”
“Pretty?” I blink my eyes in disbelief. I work out five times a week and can bench press nearly two-hundred-fifty pounds, but I guess that might be hard to notice under the suit I’m wearing. “Trust me, I can hold my own.”
The leader, who goes by Snake, shakes his head, circles a finger in the air, and shouts, “Round it up, boys. Back to the chopper.”
After they depart, I approach Arinessa, who is shaking violently from fear. I squat low so I’m not talking down to her, and open my mouth to speak, but before I can utter a word, her leg flies up, connecting with my jaw.
Oof…
Unprepared, I fall backward, bringing a hand up to my face as she angrily charges me, and we fall to the floor.
I raise a hand in surrender. “Please—”
“You filthy pervert,” she shouts, pummeling me with her tiny fists. “You can’t get laid, so you hire muscled thugs to kidnap—”
I shield my face, allowing a couple punches in for her benefit before grabbing her wrists and setting her straight.
“Oh, I assure you—I can get laid. And even if I couldn’t, it’s certainly not something I’d look for from you.”
She narrows her eyes at me, and I realize how that sounded.
“I mean—”
“Good, because I am never, ever, in a million years—EVER—going to fuck you!”
That’s a shame.
Even in times of extreme duress, men never truly get their heads out of the gutter, and I can confirm that my mind has already envisioned three ways of fucking her since she was dragged into the reception area from the elevator.
But this is business.
Arinessa’s anger is a mask for her fear, and I realize just how terrifying this whole experience must be for her. I never intended to scare her or make her feel unsafe. I have to make this right.
I release her arms and look into her big, doe eyes. God, I could get lost in them.
“Arinessa, can we talk?” I give her a reassuring smile. “I’d like to straighten this misunderstanding out.”
“Misunderstanding? So I misunderstood my kidnapping?”
“How about instead of using the word kidnap, we go with guide? You misunderstood your guide.”
Her jaw gapes at my audacious suggestion, her full lips forming a perfect ‘O.’
My cock twitches at the thought of what I’d like to do with that mouth of hers. I know I should shove the thought from my mind, but it would be a fruitless endeavor. It’s not just that she’s attractive; it’s that she’s intriguing, spirited, and oh so fucking hot.
To make matters worse, she’s wearing a tank top, and her nipples are jutting through the thin fabric. It’s impossible not to stare at them, and don’t get me started on her shorts. With the way she’s squatting, they come up so high that a sliver of her round ass can be seen at certain angles.
Fuck me, I should have told the boys to allow her to get dressed before taking her to me.
“Would you care for a drink?” I offer.
“A drink? I want to go home! If you think you can just kidnap women—”
“It was an accident.”
“We’ll let the cops decide that.”
A chuckle escapes my throat. “Do you really think they’re going to believe you? You’ll march out the door, call the authorities, I’ll feign ignorance…but…well…I might have to hand over all the evidence I’ve gathered concerning your recent online activities. With your history, that could land you some serious time.”
Her hand flies to her mouth. “How fucking dare you—”
“I want to offer you a job,” I cut in.
“—think that you can just—”
“It pays one-million-dollars.”
She plops back down on her fabulous rear, looking at me intensely. “I’m listening.”
“I need you to help me find someone. I know you can hack, which makes you perfect for the job.”
Her eyes flutter open and shut at least a dozen times before she finally says, “Like, what does this person mean to you?”
“That will be disclosed upon your compliance.”
“Let me get this straight: you want to hire an out-of-practice hacker and offer them one-million-dollars? Oh, almost forgot—you had them kidnapped from their home—while still in their pajamas!”
My eyes inadvertently rove her lush body. “Not complaining.”
Her eyes widen at my out of place comment. “Just who the-who the hell are you?”
“Hunter Davies—”
Her jaw falls open. “Oh my God—you’re the Hunter Davies!”
“The one and only.”
“The one that people aren’t even sure what he looks like because he’s a reclusive asshole?”
“Yeah, that was my father’s doing.”
“Your mom was a famous Hollywood actress—a legend! And then she just became a hermit. Was it because of the kidnapping?” she blurts out, then quickly downcasts her eyes. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”
You mention the name Davies and people think of two things: tech juggernaut Rand Davies marrying Hollywood starlet Ernestine Whitmore and Ernestine Whitmore’s missing twin, my Aunt Lucy.
Over twenty years ago, she just up and disappeared, a cyclone of chaos left in her wake in the form of various offshore bank accounts, emails with foreign militia, and connections with various shady organizations.
My mother was heartbroken, forever left to wonder what had become of her. There was no evidence of foul play. Her personal belongings were simply left behind, with nothing pointing to where she would go.
I offer my hand out for Arinessa to take, which she accepts. Her soft skin against mine makes my heart skip a beat, like I’m a damn teenager.
Once she’s righted, I say, “It’s alright. It happened a long time ago. I can’t even say I remember her.”
Her mouth twitches to the side as though she’s unsure of what to say. If we’d met under different circumstances, I’d be kissing her lips right now.
I give her a moment to adjust her disheveled clothing and hair before continuing. It’s entirely possible that Big Foot’s hair is more manageable but not nearly as sexy.
“My Aunt Lucy worked for my father. One day, he saw Lucy out with my mother, and it was ‘love at first sight,’ as he calls it. There was a short courtship during which I was conceived, and they decided to marry. Things were going great for a couple of years, until my aunt went missing. You should know the rest.”
“That all happened before I was born, but still, I know the story. Most everyone does,” Arinessa says.
“It was all over the papers. My mother couldn’t even grieve properly. After Lucy’s disappearance, Father went into ‘lockdown’ mode. We were never photographed out, and we’d shuffle between homes. He even went so far as to put out fake images of me, so people would debate what I looked like.”
“Gosh, that’s gotta be rough.”
“It is what it is, but it all happened for a reason, and it’s why I’ve summoned you here.”
She casts me an impish look, her brow arching dramatically. “Summoned? Is that what we’re calling it now?”
There’s an addictive quality to the way she addresses me. Most women agree with and nod at everything I say, which is boring, and even exhausting at times. Not Arinessa, though. She has no problem calling me out.
“For lack of a better word.”
She fake coughs, uttering the word ‘kidnapping’ under her breath, and I can’t help but smile. She’s just so…different.
“Tell me more about your aunt.”
“Lucy disappeared when I was three, twenty-four years ago, so I know precious little about her, other than what I’ve been told.”
“Do you think she’s still alive?”
“The truth is, I have no idea, but if I can find a way to give my mother closure, I’ll take it.”
“And of all the professionals in the world, you think I can find her?” Arinessa spikes a brow and points to her chest.
“I can’t think of many better, actually.”
“I don’t know, maybe someone from Anonymous. Or an actual hacktivist that hasn’t been out of practice for six years.”
“I would never let a member of Anonymous gain access to any of the Davies’ systems. God knows what havoc they’d cause, my family being of the corporate world.”
“Good point.”
“I know your past, and even though you haven’t been hacking recently, you were doing skip tracing with a credit card company last summer, not that I think that will help much.”
“Yeah, if you’re relying on my skip tracing capabilities to solve a twenty-year cold case, you’re sorely out of luck.”
I clear my throat, buying myself a moment to carefully phrase what I need to say. “What you did in your past, it spoke to me.”
She downcast her eyes. “The hacking? It was amateur.”
“Actually, it was quite genius. It wasn’t the hacking that got you caught. It was your drive to bring the culprits to justice that did you in.”
“Did me in and cost me damn near everything. I wouldn’t be in the mountain of debt I’m in now if I had just made better choices.”
“Who knows, maybe those choices have a late payoff.”
“So, let me see if I have the terms right. You want me to locate your aunt, who’s been missing for twenty-four years, and if I succeed, you’ll pay me one-million-dollars.”
“That about sums it up.”
“And what do I get if I fail?”
“Nothing.”
“But—”
“You just admitted to having a mountain of debt. This is your only chance. How else are you going to come up with your tuition, let alone pay your bills?”
“How do you know so much about me?” she asks, her voice tense and full of anger.
