My Dad’s Billionaire Enemy

by Winters, Bella

  Malcolm had been clear. Being close to him could mean my death.

  I took a deep breath, steadied my hands, and then grabbed onto the fence. The first part was easy. The lower bar was at the right height for me to step onto and pull my body up.

  But the gap between the bottom and the top bar was awkward. I had to reach my hands up high, steadying myself at the same time. My bare feet were burning with the cold of the iron as I gripped the bar, and I almost let go.

  Los Angeles was famous for being a place with great weather and practically eternal summers, but that didn’t mean it didn’t get cold sometimes.

  Tonight was, unfortunately, one of those nights where the weather decided it was time to freeze everyone.

  And since metal, specifically iron, absorbed temperature quite well, I was shivering all over and almost regretting the choice I had made.

  But I gritted my teeth and made myself keep going.

  I used my bare feet, pushing myself up at the same time that I pulled by pushing with them against the vertical bars.

  It was a struggle, and I didn’t know if I was going to make it, but finally, I was at the top, and carefully maneuvering myself around the sharp points.

  There was no easy way to do what I was about to do. I had never been particularly good with heights or following through, so part of me just wanted to try to inch myself down. But with the fence structure, there was no way to do that.

  I was going to have to jump.

  Back against the fence, and facing towards the street, I took a deep breath and jumped forward.

  I gasped as a sharp, searing pain went through me, and my feet hit the ground.

  Instinctively, my hand went to the back of my thigh, where the fence had torn my dress and made a long gash in my skin. I couldn’t see it well in the dark, so I had no idea how deep it was.

  I could only hope that the adrenaline would keep me going, and push the pain away long enough for me to find some help.

  To my right was the entrance to the mansion, and people were drifting out already.

  Shit, I had lost too much time, I needed to go.

  It was too risky to try to approach one of the guests for help. They might be someone who was working for Malcolm in disguise, and to go back in the direction of the mansion was just a bad idea in general.

  So I started off in the other direction, jogging and keeping to the shadows, wincing each time the foot of my injured leg hit the pavement.

  It wasn’t too long before I saw what I needed. I wasn’t sure how long it too, because time blurred together. With the pain and the worry, everything was stretched out into agonizing seconds.

  I soon realized just how dire my situation was. I had no money, no phone, no idea of where I was, and nowhere to go. I couldn’t go back to my dad, because I didn’t want to put him in any more danger, and anyone I went to I might also endanger.

  The police might be able to help, but how long before they uncovered enough of the story to put my dad behind bars?

  They had to be the last resort.

  My only hope was that someone kind enough would come along who could drive me somewhere where I could lay low for a bit and figure out what I was going to do.

  My prayers were answered when a car rounded the corner, driving slowly, and not coming from the direction of Malcolm’s mansion.

  I waved them down, and they pulled up to the sidewalk, the luxury sport’s car humming.

  The window rolled down, and a man’s head popped out. He looked me up and down, clearly confused as to what a barefoot girl in an expensive, torn dress was doing in the middle of a rich neighborhood in the middle of the night.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, his brows furrowing.

  “I need help,” I said, trying my best not to sound too desperate. I didn’t want to scare him off, but I was already on the verge of tears.

  “What kind of help? Do you need me to call the police?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I need to get away, there are people after me.”

  “Okay okay, I get it. Get in,” he said. I didn’t know if it was my words that convinced him, or how my voice trembled and my eyes filled with tears.

  He opened the door, but I hesitated. I knew nothing about this man, and I was in a very vulnerable position. And besides that, I didn’t know how happy he would be about me getting blood all over his expensive car interior.

  “What is it? Are you getting in?” he demanded, sounding more impatient now.

  “I— I’m bleeding,” I said, rotating a bit to show him my cut.

  He winced. “That looks bad. We should get going, get in. I can always get the car cleaned up.”

  I didn’t waste another second and did as he told me. I was in no position to question him or worry about who I was getting in the car with.

  Whoever this man was, he had to be better than Malcolm. And it seemed like he was going to get me some help.

  I got in, and he reached over me to pull the car door shut. My blood was pumping hard, and I could practically hear it rushing past my ears as he sped off, changing direction (much to my relief).

  “I know a hotel where you should be safe for the moment,” he said by way of explanation. “I’ll bring you a private physician, and then we’ll see what we can do in terms of getting you help.”

  His words were reassuring. Despite my injuries and the fact that the situation was still uncertain, I felt safer than I had in a while.

  It didn’t take us long to get to the hotel. He drove fast, and it was nearby. The area was a little busier than where Malcolm’s mansion had been, but it still seemed quiet.

  More than that, the hotel was luxurious. I didn’t know how I was going to be able to afford to pay this man back.

  As we stopped in front of the entrance, attendants immediately started coming towards us, my hand drifted up to the gold jewelry that Malcolm had given me. It had to be worth something, and I didn’t want it much anyways.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t have anything else, but—” I began, but the man cut me off with a quick shake of his head.

  “Don’t worry about that right now. You’re clearly in shock.”

  An attendant came around to open my door and immediately gasped upon seeing my state.

  “Ma’am, are you alright, do you need help?” he asked, shooting a dirty look towards the man who had driven me here.

  “I think something happened to her, she was on the side of the road,” the man explained to the attendant. “We need a room and a doctor.”

  “Of course sir, of course. Please, come with me,” the attendant said, and we both got out of the car. The man offered me his arm and I took it, even though it made me uncomfortable.

  Now that we were in the light and I wasn’t so desperate, I could see that his glances at me weren’t so much caring as they were leering. There was something about him that made me anxious, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

  It was just a feeling, but my feelings rarely steered me wrong.

  The attendant led us quickly through the lobby and to a set of elevators, ushering us to keep the stares away from patrons who were about at this odd and late hour.

  We only went up to the third floor, and then down one hallway where the attendant took a master key from his pocket and opened the door.

  The room was spacious and certainly nicer than anything I’d ever stayed in before.

  The decorations were a bit garish and over the top— a clear display of wealth— but I couldn’t really care much about that at the moment.

  “I’ll go get a physician,” the attendant said. “Please feel free to use the bathroom to clean up. I don’t mind if a few towels get ruined.” He was looking at the large gash on the back of my leg as he said this, and then he turned.

  “Will you be okay here?” the man asked. “I need to go make a few calls.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I replied, wanting to get rid of him more than anything.

  “I’ll come ba
ck as quick as I can.” He left, closing the door behind him, and following the attendant away.

  Truthfully, I didn’t want him to come back. He set me on edge, and I had no idea what his plan was to help me, or what he might expect from me in return.

  I thought about this as I entered the bathroom and pressed one of the luxuriously soft white towels to my wound.

  What had I gotten myself into? And would it really end up being any better off than I was as Malcolm’s prisoner?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Malcolm

  “What?” I growled, not able to contain my anger at the situation.

  “She’s gone,” Leroi said, stumbling over the words. “When I realized she wasn’t with you, I went looking for her. I couldn’t find her, so I asked Gilles to look back through the camera footage. She escaped.”

  “Fucking hell.” I kicked the bar with my foot, not even caring about the pain or the concerned look that Noah was giving me.

  “How could you be so stupid, Leroi? Go get Misha, now.”

  He nodded, hurrying off to find the Russian man.

  “Malcolm….” Noah started, but I knew what he was going to say and I didn’t want to listen to it.

  “Zip it Noah. Don’t act like you’re so blameless.”

  “Malcolm, this is no one’s fault,” he said firmly, trying to catch my gaze.

  I stared him down, hard. “Yes, it is, Noah. It wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t someone’s fault. You’re careless, and you know it.”

  “We’ll find her.”

  “Or maybe we won’t. And if Gilles managed to catch Kline, then I wouldn’t have had to use guards to search for him, and then maybe someone would have caught her, and we wouldn’t be in this situation. So yes, it is someone’s damn fault.”

  At that point, Leroi returned with Misha in tow.

  “Leroi told me what happened,” he said. “I’ll send more guards after her. They’ll catch her, she can’t get far.”

  “But why haven’t they caught her yet?” I snapped. “Your security system is supposed to be top-notch, not let one measly little girl slip through unnoticed.”

  “It’s a party, Malcolm, there are bound to be cracks,” Noah said. I knew he was trying to calm me down, but I was in too much of a rage to calm down. I wanted answers, and I needed somebody to take the blame. I couldn’t admit that it really had been my fault.

  Misha motioned for one of the guards to come over and relayed instructions. Then he turned back to me.

  “We’ll find her.”

  “That’s easy for you to say, it’s not your life at stake here.”

  “We’re still going to protect you,” Noah said.

  I turned on him. “Oh yeah? How much actual protection have you given me, Noah? Do you really think you stand a chance against Kline? Why do you think I kidnapped his daughter in the first place?”

  “Because you were looking for peace,” Noah snapped back. “We could have easily killed him, Malcolm. We still can. It would have been done, over with, nothing to worry about. But you’re still concerned about sticking to your moral code, and apparently the moment a beautiful woman gets involved you’re willing to sacrifice your own safety and my sanity.” Those last words were said in a rush as if they had been building up in him for a very long time. He looked shocked that he had said it, and I could see the immediate regret on his face.

  He reached for me, but I had already started moving, and I wasn’t planning on staying.

  I had to go. I had to do something. I couldn’t just stand around waiting for someone else to find her, for someone else to talk to Kline, for someone else to do all the things that I should have been doing from the beginning.

  Just then, one of our men in disguise rushed up to us, stopping me in my tracks.

  He was out of breath, and his eyes were wide. With shock, surprise, or fear, I couldn’t tell.

  “Someone saw her,” he said, his words coming out faint as he tried to get his wind back. “She was entering a hotel with another man. We think we know him, and he’s bad news. She’s injured too.”

  Rage coursed through me. She had gotten hurt because of my carelessness. I couldn’t let anything else bad happen to her.

  I grabbed the man by the collar. “Where is she?”

  “At the closest luxury hotel, sir,” he said. “Do you want me to—”

  I released him, turning back to Misha, Leroi, and Noah, cutting off the rest of whatever he was about to say.

  “We go. Now.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Aurora

  The more time that passed, the more frightened I became.

  I had no idea what was going to happen to me, and as the adrenaline was wearing off, the pain was coming in full force.

  I didn’t dare to remove the towel from my leg, even to take a peek. I knew that I had to wash it, but I just kept applying pressure. I had been training to be a veterinary nurse, not to treat my own wounds.

  I thought about going down to the lobby to ask them for a different kind of help. Maybe I should be going to the police. They at least could keep me safe, whereas here I had no guarantee.

  But I didn’t want to move, even though the bathroom floor was not the most comfortable thing.

  All I wanted was to curl up into a ball and sleep for a very long time.

  I recognized from my very brief human medical training that this was most likely a symptom of my shock, and it was important that I didn’t give into it. I didn’t want to lose any more blood, and I needed to be awake when the physician arrived to give them more information about my condition.

  Finally, I decided that it would be a good idea to move to the bed, or at least out of the bathroom. That way if I ended up passing out, I was in view and easily accessible.

  Still using a towel to apply pressure to my leg, I made my way into the main room sitting on the floor in front of the bed. I just couldn’t find the energy to get myself up and onto it.

  There was a knock, and then the door creaked open.

  The face of the man appeared, and he entered.

  Immediately my heart started beating faster, and I knew it was from fear. I didn’t trust him.

  “There’s help coming,” he said, closing the door behind him and clicking the deadbolt into place. “I called some people, and they’re going to help you.”

  He approached me as if I was a wild animal, and might bolt at any moment.

  I supposed to him I must seem wild. A strange girl with no shoes and no story on the side of the road. I must also have seemed vulnerable then. Easy to manipulate. Easy to take advantage of. Scared and lost and ready to accept the first help that came my way.

  He knelt in front of me reaching for my leg as if he was going to inspect my wound. I shrank from him, but he didn’t get the hint. His hand touched my thigh, massaging up and down, and I resisted the urge to gag.

  I felt the sudden need to run, to get far away from that place and that man.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, my voice trembling.

  His eyes weren’t looking at my face, but rather at the parts of my body that the dress accentuated

  “I’m going to help you,” he said. “I’m helping you, don’t you see?”

  He applied pressure to the towel with his free hand, and I hissed. It was too much, it was digging into the wound instead of stopping the bleeding.

  “Get away from me,” I said, on the verge of tears again.

  “Why do I need to do that? I’m helping you. You’re delirious, don’t you see? The doctor is coming soon.”

  He still wasn’t looking at my face, and his hand was still massaging my thigh. I could see a bulge in his pants where an erection had formed, and I felt sick to my stomach.

  I knew I had to run, I had to get out of there, This was not a situation I wanted to be in, especially since I had no power here.

  “Get away from me!” I screamed, pushing him back and bolting for the door. The towel fell away from my wo
und and blood began to trickle down my leg again, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to get out of there.

  He was shocked for a few seconds, but he quickly got up. His feet pounded against the floor as he started after me. I was fumbling with the deadbolt, tears streaming down my face.

  I knew that I should be calling for help, but the words were trapped in my throat. All I could think was that I had to get this door open, not even knowing what I would do after I had accomplished that.

  My fingers kept slipping, but I grasped the lock and turned it. At the same time, the door swung inward, pushing me back a few steps.

  The face that appeared was not one I would have wanted to see thirty minutes ago, but now it was a welcome relief.

  “Malcolm.” My voice was still trembling, and he looked over my shoulder at the man who was behind me in anger.

  “What did you do to her?” He pulled me to his chest, his arms locked around my back securely. He was still wearing his suit from the party, and I could hear his heart beating. It was a calming sound, drowning out everything else in the room.

  “I did nothing, I was just trying to help,” the man said. The panic in his voice was evidence enough that he knew his intentions had been anything but innocent.

  “Well she’s no longer your problem,” Malcolm said. “I’ll take care of things from here.” He turned to leave, still pressing me tight to his body as if he was afraid I would bolt again.

  “Hey wait, man, I did nothing wrong. And her leg is bleeding, she needs a doctor.”

  “I’ll see to it that she gets one,” Malcolm said, paying no heed to the man’s other protests as he escorted me down the hallway and to the elevator.

  Now that I knew I was at least a bit safer, I could take a moment to absorb my surroundings. Malcolm had brought his four friends with him, and they surrounded us in a protective semicircle.

  Malcolm nodded at the tall Russian man. “Misha, have some of your men keep tabs on him. Let him know he’s being watched.”