Billionaire's Secret Agent

by S Cinders

  Nate, always good in a crisis, grabbed Kim’s leggings and attempted to put them on.

  Kim, on the other hand, reached into her closet and pulled out a dress. She didn’t bother with underwear; she had some in her hospital bag.

  “Are you coming?” she asked him after slipping into flip-flops.

  “What’s wrong with my damn pants?” Nate yelled.

  “Nothing,” Kim said calmly. “But those are my pants.”

  He looked down and saw that he was, indeed, an idiot. Dropping her leggings, he snagged a pair of sweats and yanked them on. A t-shirt went on next and by the time he grabbed his shoes, Kim was doubled over, puking into the fake fern.

  Nate carefully ushered Kim out of the apartment and to the elevator. Her pains were less than five minutes apart and the nausea was increasing.

  The doorman saw them exiting the elevator and quickly hailed a cab. Once inside of the cab, Nate called Dr. Robert and asked to meet up at the hospital. His next call was to Elliot and Mandy.

  Kim’s water broke minutes away from the hospital. Nate wasn’t sure who was crying more, Kim or the cabbie. She’d not only puked bile in his cab, but the amniotic fluid was now coating most of the seat, Nate’s pants, and the floor mats.

  When they pulled into an emergency, Dr. Robert was there with a wheelchair. Nate threw a wad of hundred-dollar bills at the cabbie and then raced inside after his wife.

  Once they had Kim in a delivery room, Dr. Robert called in something for the vomiting and checked to see her progress.

  “The baby has nearly crowned! Well done, Kim.”

  The nurse had finally gotten the IV in Kim’s arm and anti-nausea meds began pumping into her system.

  “I feel like I need to use the bathroom,” Kim cried out.

  Dr. Robert nodded. “Yes, you are getting ready to push. Follow that feeling Kim, one-two-three push!”

  Nate assisted the nurse holding one of Kim’s legs back and she pushed and pushed. It took another twenty-four minutes until August James was placed in Kim’s arms..

  “Seven pounds, two ounces,” Dr. Robert called out, “Just shy of nineteen inches. He’s rather perfect, isn’t he?”

  But mom and dad were too wrapped up in counting ten little toes and ten tiny fingers to pay any attention to the doctor. They had just witnessed a miracle, and they were now the stewards for its care.

  Smiling at the young family, Dr. Robert ushered the nurses back to speak with them privately. “I don’t normally do this, but if there is anything this family needs, be sure to call me right away.”

  The nurses promised they would do as he said. Then Mandy and Elliot arrived, and it really was a true birth-day party for little Auggie.

  25

  “Help! Help!” Alyssa yelled as she pounded on the locked panel. But no matter what she or Scott did, the door remained immoveable.

  Their only illumination had come from a small candle they’d scavenged behind the bar. They were grateful that they were no longer in total darkness. However, the small amount of light cast long shadows and added to the trapped feeling that was clawing at their throats.

  “Are you sure there isn’t another way out?” Scott asked while searching the walls for anything that might free them.

  Alyssa rested her head between her fists against the closed panel. Her breathing was labored, and defeat was written on every inch of her.

  “There is no other exit,” came her muffled reply. “I’m such an idiot. I never should have brought you down here.”

  Scott gave up his search and instead moved over to where Alyssa was standing dejectedly. With his front to her back, he leaned over, placing his hands over her clenched ones.

  She shivered as his mouth breath brushed against the shell of her ear. Despite their lovemaking, she still wanted him. Everything about the man was addicting.

  “We will get out of here,” he promised. “You’re safe with me.”

  A shudder ran through Alyssa and instinctively she turned in his arms so that she could mold herself against Scott’s chest.

  Her voice was muffled as she said, “I don’t know if it’s the idea of being so far underground, the darkness, or the fact that nobody knows where we are. But this can’t be how this comes to an end. Frank doesn’t get to win. I don’t understand.”

  Scott’s arms had woven around Alyssa, holding her close to his chest. “Nothing is ending here. And just to be completely clear—you and I, we’re only beginning.”

  Alyssa lifted her head to look into his eyes. Could he possibly mean what she thought he meant?

  “What do you mean?”

  Scott gazed into her eyes in the candlelight. “Alyssa, I really care about you. Surely you know that?”

  Color stained her cheeks. “I just didn’t want to assume anything. You know, just because we… It doesn’t have to mean anything.” She trailed off with her gaze going over to the sofa.

  “Because we fucked in your parents’ house? Or because the room still smells like sex?” Scott teased.

  Alyssa smiled sadly. “They would have liked you. I wish you could have known them. My father would have asked you a million questions about the FBI. He loved the truth, and he loved this country. He also had this obsession with all of the television dramas depicting the FBI lifestyle.”

  Scott kissed her temple. “And I would have happily answered every question he asked me in the hopes of getting on his good side. What about your mom?”

  “My mother loved figuring things out. She loved all kinds of puzzles and I know she would have seen you as an individual with a deeper story to tell.”

  Scott quirked a brow. “I’m not that hard to read, am I?”

  “In some ways, no,” Alyssa replied truthfully. “You’re straightforward and don’t play any games, and I appreciate that about you. But then you are also this badass FBI agent, a crazy big-hearted older brother, a great cook, and sexy as fuck.”

  “The last one is likely my favorite,” Scott growled against her ear.

  Alyssa smiled. “I don’t doubt it. There is also the way you took the time to get to know the real me. It’s hard to describe, but it’s like you see through me, like I’m made of glass, and I spent a lot of time building those walls to keep people out.”

  “You’ve been hurt by someone that was meant to protect you,” Scott whispered. “You’ve lost your loved ones. You’ve survived your apartment being destroyed. Hell, you even found a way to make things work when you were cut off from your finances. Through it all, you were loyal to your parents and your values. Hell, woman, you’re a force to be reckoned with. I’m in awe of you.”

  They held each other for a moment in contentment. As his words played gently in her mind. Alyssa felt something click into place. Force to be reckoned with…

  “Force,” Alyssa repeated, stiffening in his arms.

  “Well yeah,” Scott repeated in confusion. “Frank freezing your accounts…”

  Alyssa moved out of his arms and raced over to the bar. Looking wildly around, she turned to Scott and waved frantically. “No, not that! Come on, give me a boost!”

  Scott didn’t ask questions. He did just as he was told and lifted Alyssa up so she was standing on the bar top. Alyssa felt along the ceiling until her hands came in contact with the metal grate.

  “The air vent,” she said excitedly. “If there is forced air, these vents have to lead somewhere.”

  “There is no way in hell that I am letting you crawl through the vents,” Scott said emphatically. “Come on, get down. We don’t know if the ceiling will hold you. You could fall to your death.”

  Alyssa moved away from his outstretched arms. “Then it’s a good thing I’m not asking permission.” With a yank, she pulled the metal grate out and tossed it to the floor.

  “Alyssa,” Scott cried out in alarm just as she hoisted herself up and disappeared into the ceiling.

  Alyssa’s voice sounded hollow as it travelled back to him through the vent. “I don’t have
to go very far. I just need to get back into the wine cellar and release the secret panel.”

  “Be careful,” Scott warned, hating that he had no control over the situation. “I don’t like this. I should be protecting you.”

  Alyssa found the vent to be an extremely tight fit. It was a good thing she was model-thin and had very little cleavage. If she had any of the curves she’d coveted of Mandy or Kim, she never would have fit.

  Inch by inch, she scooted herself until she saw the slatted lights coming from the wine cellar. Excitement built within her. It felt good to be the one taking control of the situation. So many times, in her life Alyssa had deferred to someone else to handle the problem.

  It was as close to a “come to Jesus” moment as she’d ever had.

  Frank could be waiting on the other side of that grate.

  Her parents and grandparents weren’t there to protect her. Nate, Kim, Elliot, and Mandy didn’t even know where she was. And Scott couldn’t fit in an air duct even if he wanted to.

  There was nobody else that could save her.

  The question that kept rolling around Alyssa’s mind was, Can I save myself?

  It was a hell of a time to have an identity crisis. But instead of things seeming muddled, it was as if, for the first time in her life, she finally was seeing clearly.

  With determination, she shoved the grate out and listened as it crashed to the floor. Then she carefully poked her head out to see if anyone happened to be there. When she saw the wine cellar was empty, Alyssa wriggled her way out of the air duct and somehow managed to stop herself from slamming into a barrel of bourbon.

  It was then that she heard it. Eyes darting to the corner she saw Mrs. Walters struggling against the ropes that were holding her immobilized. Panic was evident as Mrs. Walters tried to scream against the gag that had been shoved inside her mouth.

  Beside her sat Uncle Frank, sipping on a bottle of Dom Perignon as if he were on the French Riviera. Beside him sat another glass which he promptly began to fill.

  “Alyssa, dearest. I had hoped we could come to a better arrangement before now, but it seems that you are just as pig-headed as your father.”

  Alyssa stared at her uncle. She was shocked at his flippant manner. But more than that, she was angry. Horrible anger that burned red-hot in her belly. “Don’t you dare speak about my father.”

  Frank shrugged one shoulder as if it didn’t matter one way or another. “All of this could have been avoided, of course.”

  “If he only did what you said?” Alyssa filled in waspishly. “Let me guess. My father wasn’t okay with the blood on your hands?”

  Frank’s lips twitched. Alyssa could hardly believe he was actually enjoying the interaction.

  “You are much like him. It’s a pity, because I can’t have you running around like a Boy Scout, can I?”

  “Girl Scout,” Alyssa snapped. “I’m a girl, just in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  “What?” Frank faltered for a moment and then smiled widely. “Indeed. Women’s rights and all of that. You’re nothing like I imagined you to be.”

  Alyssa rolled her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I had the impression you were something of a flake. Oh, I knew you had top honors in school and even got your law degree. But it was all for show, wasn’t it? You’ve never had to take a stand for anything; therefore, I assumed you would be malleable to my plans. Instead, you turned out to be a fighter. It’s too damn bad you have to die.”

  26

  Alyssa stared at the man who had singlehandedly attempted to destroy her life. “Why?” she asked at last. “What is so important to you that you killed our family and who knows how many others?”

  Frank frowned. “What does that matter?”

  “I think I deserve that much,” she said with far more confidence than she truly was feeling. “After all, I know you arranged the deaths of my grandparents and parents. I saw you slit that man’s throat. It’s clear you have no qualms with murder. I think I deserve to know why.”

  Frank eyed her for a moment. “You do know that with your face and my connections we could have had it all.”

  “That’s the saddest part,” Alyssa replied. “I did have it all, until you took it from me. So why? Was it the money? Drugs?”

  Frank rolled his eyes and made a flitting gesture with his fingers. “Do you honestly think I care about the money? My dear, we have always had more money than we’ve known what to do with. Money opens a lot of doors; however, it isn’t everything.”

  “Drugs then?” she prodded.

  “Hardly,” he answered candidly. “I will admit that early on in my career, drugs were an easy way to turn a profit. But again, that will only get you so far. No, Alyssa, you never could see the bigger picture. You see me as this terrible villain, and I must admit, I’ve enjoyed playing the part. What you fail to see is that I am simply a cog in a far-bigger plan. You and your FBI boy-toy’s disappearance will be followed by planted evidence that will tie you to the murder of the man you witnessed me killing as well as several other unresolved high-profile FBI cases.”

  “FBI cases?” Alyssa repeated, feeling dread coiling in her stomach.

  His evil smile widened. “Why do you think I walk around freely? Only someone who is very assured of their place in the world would do such a thing. Don’t you think?”

  Frank pulled out a gun and pointed it at the glass of wine that was untouched. “It’s rude to make a man drink alone.”

  Alyssa starred in incredulity. “The wine Is likely poisoned.”

  He shrugged and picked it up. Taking a large gulp, his gaze mocked her above the rim of the glass. Once he’d finished, Frank lifted the gun again and pointed it at her.

  “They’ll catch you,” Alyssa said through clenched teeth.

  “I’m sure they will. Agent Tabor’s boss should be around any moment now to help dispose of your bodies. It was instrumental for him to keep an eye on Agent Tabor. Truly, without the FBI’s assistance I would’ve had a devil of a time keeping tabs on you.”

  “Agent Jackson?” Alyssa's horrified tone had Frank’s lips quivering upward.

  “He’s one of the many that have needed my services. You see, dear girl, it’s not the money, or drugs, or anything else that I crave. It’s the power. I have judges, generals, FBI agents, leaders of our country, and so many more in my pocket. You didn’t have a chance going up against me. It’s sad really. I do like you. I don’t allow many people into the business.”

  “You wanted me to kill for you?” Alyssa spat.

  “Nothing so plebeian as that, dearest,” Frank replied. “But there are some delicate matters where a woman’s touch could have been beneficial. It really doesn’t matter. You’ve become something of a nuisance to me. It’s time to part ways.”

  Watching Frank taking aim to shoot her, Alyssa stood there frozen to the spot. He was going to kill her in cold blood. Her mind went blank, and her hands felt numb. It was now or never. She had to do something.

  “Okay!” she said hurriedly, throwing her arms out wide. “You win. I will do whatever you want me to. Just…”

  “Just don’t hurt Agent Tabor?” Frank said, pulling the gun back a little. “I’m afraid I can’t keep that promise.”

  “I wasn’t going to say that,” Alyssa said hurriedly. “I was going to say, just let me be the one to tell him.”

  “To tell him that you’ve joined the dark side?” He laughed at his own witticism. “No, I can smell a diversion tactic. Your journey has ended—”

  His sentence was cut off when Alyssa grabbed the nearest bottle of wine and hurled it at him. The gun went off. The smell of gunpowder and fine wine filled the air. A sharp pain grazed her shoulder, but Alyssa hardly registered it.

  Frank was bent over, scrambling for the gun. Without another thought, Alyssa got another bottle and slammed it down hard over his head. Frank slumped to the floor.

  Carefully Alyssa kicked the gun away from her unc
le’s lifeless hand. When it was out of range, she bent and reached for it only to feel another sharp pain radiating from her shoulder. Her left hand automatically went to the injury and came back covered in blood.

  It still truly hadn’t registered with Alyssa that she’d been shot. All she could think about was getting Scott out of the locked room. With her uninjured hand, she grabbed the gun and moved to the hidden panel.

  The instant it opened, Scott was beside her.

  “Fuck!” he cried out seeing the blood on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  Alyssa was fairly certain that she was as far from okay as a girl could be, so she did what anyone would do and nodded.

  That’s when spots began to appear in her vision.

  Scott gently pulled her to him, wrapping her in his arms without hurting her.

  Motioning to her uncle he asked, “Is he dead?”

  Alyssa began shaking, exhibiting the early signs of shock.

  “Never mind, let’s get you out of here. Jackson should be here any moment.”

  Alyssa remembered what Frank had said. Impatiently she tried to pull back. “No, you don’t understand. He’s working with Frank.”

  “Who’s working with Frank?” Scott asked.

  “Your boss, some of the higher-ups, a lot of people according to Frank. They intended to plant evidence pointing to us after Frank killed us.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Scott said, shaking his head.

  But Alyssa no longer had the energy to remain talking. She slumped in his arms, darkness overtaking her.

  Scott carried Alyssa out of the wine cellar. He moved with stealth and grace, not wanting to come across any of Frank’s accomplices. He found the housekeeper coming to right in the kitchen. After untying her, Scott grabbed the phone and pressed it into her shaking hands.

  “Call 911 and stay here with Alyssa,” Scott instructed. “Lock the door behind me and don’t answer it for any reason. Tell the ambulance to come around the back.”