Billion Dollar Murder: Single Daddy Billionaire Mystery Romance

by Sloane Peterson

  I found it suddenly impossible to breathe...

  “Don't make any sudden movements,” the voice said in my ears, giving me goosebumps as his breath blew against my neck.

  “Please... Please,” I managed to choke out, “Don't hurt me...” Tears were streaming down in warm trails down along my face, and I felt like my knees might give out from under me. I prayed they didn't, because I could picture myself being shot if I let my legs buckle.

  “Don't say another fucking word,” the man hissed. “Do not speak unless you're told to speak.”

  I almost said “okay,” but stopped myself. I closed my eyes and nodded. I hoped to God someone was seeing this, yet I hoped just as much that not a soul in all of New York was witnessing the scene. Lord knew what harm might befall them, not to mention me, if they tried to intervene.

  “Don't look at me, either,” he continued. “Just keep your eyes forward, and do what I tell you to do.”

  I nodded my head as vigorously as I could, so hard that I nearly gave myself a headache. I wanted him to know I wasn't going to try and pull anything. That I was going to be the obedient hostage he wanted me to be, and do whatever he wanted me to as long as it meant being left alive.

  I was determined that this would not be the end of things. That I would get to see the man I loved again. That this would all be a nightmare, and I would wake up suddenly and it would all go away, like it had never happened at all.

  Could I really hope to be so lucky?

  “Just move. Walk to where I point you. Act natural, and don't make us look suspicious.”

  I don't know how the hell he expected me to do this, but I struggled to obey the best that I could. Relaxing as much of the tension in my stiffened body as possible, I stepped forward along the sidewalk. One foot in front of the other, moving with the utmost care, afraid that the slightest misstep would end with me dead there on the pavement, before I even had time to realize what I'd done wrong.

  The man was mostly silent, but occasionally he would bark orders at me under his breath.

  “No, to your right!”

  “Stop shaking!”

  “There's someone coming up ahead. Duck into this alley until they've passed. I don't want to risk anything.”

  I knew he didn't want me to cry, and I was afraid enough of him to hold it back the best that I could. I did this by biting down hard on my lower lip, so hard that I thought I might draw blood. On top of that I just kept thinking of Johnathan, imagining him telling me to keep calm, and the sound of his voice in my head acting like the very sedative I needed it to be.

  The moments felt endless as he shoved me along the city blocks. I started feeling like he had no real destination in mind for me whatsoever. Like he just savored my misery, the torment he was causing me as he left me wondering what my fate would be.

  Finally, though, we arrived at a turning point. I felt his hand suddenly tighten around my arm, and the barrel of the gun pushing especially hard into the base of my spine. “I'm right here,” he growled. “Get in the back. There's a blindfold on the seat. Put it on once you're in.”

  I froze, ignoring the pistol on my back for the first time since this had begun. Being led by gunpoint was one thing. Getting in a car with this maniac, having no idea where the hell I might end up, was entirely another.

  “Please,” I choked out, in barely a whisper. “Please...”

  “What did I tell you about talking?!” he snarled, and my shoulders tensed as the gun went twice as hard into the flesh of my back. There was really no point in arguing with this...

  I took a deep breath. I closed my eyes, and gave a vigorous nod of assent.

  I opened the car door, moving slowly. I tried to catch his reflection in the glass, wanting to make it out in case I had the opportunity to identify him in a police line-up later on- assuming, of course, that I survived this whole ordeal.

  He was just out of my range of view, though. Just out of sight of the glass, like even this random little detail- the angle at which he stood to obscure himself from my eyes- had been planned out perfectly.

  I slid into the back seat, and found the blindfold he'd been referring to. I put it on, wanting to keep it loose, but tightening it with the awareness that he would do so at some point anyway. If I tried any funny business he would surely make me regret it, and I was trying to stay on his good side as much as a person could be said to be on the good side of her kidnapper.

  Sure enough, he tightened the blindfold once I was in, then tied a rope around my hands, obviously to keep me from trying anything. This really wasn't necessary. I was far too terrified at this point to even think about crossing this man.

  “Good girl,” he said, then he slammed the door shut next to me.

  He climbed into the front seat and started the engine, and the two of us pulled out into the busy city streets, driving into the night like normal, everyday New Yorkers.

  God, that ride was interminable.

  It must have lasted two hours or more. We kept slowing down, and every time we did I was prepared to face my destiny, whatever that might be. But then we would idle for a while, and start back up again, and I realized it was nothing but a stoplight, or some kind of traffic obstruction. He would mutter things like “damn,” “fuck,” “shit,” from time to time, pissed off when things didn't go his way. I tried to learn something about him by the tone and timber of his voice. An age range, or anything that might help me later on. But he seemed like he could be anywhere from his late twenties to his mid-forties, and the way he hissed at me in an angry whisper rather than fully audible tones didn't help matters all that much.

  After a while it dawned on me that he'd decided to take less traveled roads out of the city. A route that might take longer, but that would be less populated, and would therefore make us less likely to arouse suspicion.

  There was a very brief period when he turned on the radio at low volume, apparently made too nervous by the deafening silence. After flipping around the dial for a little bit, he settled on a hip-hop station. Some really loud, profane stuff that gave me some idea of what this dude might be capable of, and didn't do much to relax me.

  I decided he must be younger, though I couldn't decide whether this was a good thing or a bad thing.

  He switched the station off again after a while longer, and we drove along in silence, the noise of the city giving way to the eerie quiet of the country.

  It wasn't until I felt the familiar gravel road of our driveway that I suddenly knew where he was taking me...

  Ohhh God, I thought. This wasn't just some random abduction. This man had specifically chosen me as his target...

  We pulled up to the house and he killed the engine. He got out of the car and my mind raced, praying that no one was still around inside the house. That Johnathan and Julie were still out together as he said they would be, and Gloria had gone home for the evening.

  “Get out,” he barked as he opened the door to the back seat. He grabbed me by the arm and led me out, marching me up to the house and finally untying my hands.

  “Give me your keys,” he ordered. “Slowly.”

  I did as he said. I slid the metal ring out of my pocket and handed them over. He seemed to know exactly which key was the one to the house, like he was an old pro at this, then he pushed me through the door, my heart racing faster and faster with every moment that passed.

  “Deactivate the alarm,” he commanded me, stopping me at the keypad on the wall just inside the front door.

  I knew the security code, of course. For barely a fraction of an instant I considered setting the alarm off, but I knew how idiotic this was. I typed in the number, and it seemed to satisfy him.

  He took a deep breath, the first sign of genuine anxiety that he'd displayed throughout the course of his whole ordeal. I noticed that he wasn't trying to hide himself from me any longer. He had on a ski mask now, and I supposed this made sense. It would have made him look suspicious in the middle of a city street, but here
it was an ideal way for him to keep his identity safe from my prying eyes.

  “Alright,” he said, after a moment to compose himself- like he really hadn't imagined getting this far. “Take me to his safe.”

  Shit, I thought. Shit! Shit! Shit!

  I knew what Johnathan would tell me to do. That it was just a painting, and that it was just money. Not worth risking my life over.

  “Just give it to him,” he would tell me. “Whatever he wants. Give him anything he asks for if it will keep you alive and with me.”

  But that wasn't the problem.

  I didn't know the code to the safe. Johnathan had never given it to me.

  And I was certain that the man with the gun in my back wasn't going to believe this...

  Even if he did believe this, that would mean he no longer had any real use for keeping me alive.

  No matter how you decided to slice it, I knew I was screwed, totally and completely.

  I strode down the hall at the tip of his gun, looking down at my feet. Watching my every footstep, and feeling like a prisoner on her way to death row...

  7

  Johnathan

  I was in love.

  There was really no denying it any longer, and frankly no point in trying.

  I was dangerously happy ever since Veronica had come into my life. To the point that I felt like the world revolved around the two of us and our love. Maybe that was my mistake...

  Thinking that my happiness was the world's happiness. That as long as the two of us were together, nothing could ever go wrong. Nothing could ever get in the way of what we shared.

  You would think, so soon after I'd lost Lydia to cancer, that I would have learned my lesson by now.

  But of course, some lessons simply take a lot longer to sink in than others...

  That night I'd told Veronica that I wanted to spend some quality time alone with Julie. Which was true, I did. But it was also the perfect excuse I needed to get away from her for a while, and carry out what I was actually planning without her being any the wiser.

  I was standing at a jewelry counter, my knees shaking just a little bit as I attempted to come to a decision. My eyes roving over a display of engagement rings, trying to figure out one that would be right for the woman who'd effectively saved my life.

  Was I moving just a little bit too fast? I'll let you be the judge of that if you wish.

  But I sure as hell didn't feel that way.

  I was madly in love with that girl, and though I was confident she felt the same way, I felt like I needed to be as clear as I could about the fact if I wanted to keep from losing her.

  Besides, it wasn't like we would need to get married right away. I knew how fragile I must still seem to her, and maybe I was. The actual wedding could wait a year, or maybe two, just to make sure we were both on the same page about things. There was no doubt in my mind, but I knew it was only fair to Veronica to give her as much time as she needed to come to a decision about what was right for her.

  I had my secretary Rita from work with me to help me keep an eye on Julie. I also had it in my head that it would be good to have a woman's perspective on this kind of thing, since I really wasn't any good at it. But once I actually got in there I took over the responsibility completely, wanting this gift to the girl I loved to be a completely personal one.

  “This one is nice,” I said, tilting the gold band around in my grip, my heartbeat quickening as the diamond glinted in the fluorescent lights.

  “It is an excellent choice,” said the woman behind the counter, beaming at me.

  Then I frowned, though. Second guessing myself as I had been that entire evening. As I always seemed to do whenever it was a matter involving Veronica. Nothing in the world could ever be too good for her...

  “Do you think I could take a look at that one?” I asked, pointing to another ring behind the glass.

  “Of course,” said the jeweler, smiling a little bit too hard. I was beginning to feel like I must be getting on her nerves, but if I was she certainly didn't let on. I represented a potential sale for her, after all, and almost definitely looked as though I was good for it. She’d probably be more than glad to stand there showing me expensive engagement rings all night if it meant her walking away with a fat, juicy commission.

  She took the ring I'd been holding and placed it back in the display case. I turned over to my daughter while the jeweler reached in for the next ring I had my eye on. Julie's eyes had been half closed, but they sprang open again when I looked at her, and she gave me the most adorable little smile.

  My heart had never felt fuller...

  Rita grinned at me, clearly moved by the affection I had for my little girl, and I smiled politely back. It was at that very moment that I felt my phone buzz in my pocket, and for the first time in months the threat of having everything taken away from me was made vividly real.

  I froze as I unlocked the screen, and stared into the closed caption security footage being streamed into my wide eyes.

  I'd always had security cameras up around the mansion, but ever since Celia had been murdered I'd decided to up my protection to the next level. I added a few more cameras to different rooms, and found an app that let me know if someone was in a certain area while I was out, and directly uplinked the footage to my phone.

  And so, I found myself looking down into the room with the safe where I kept my Picasso painting, as well as some other, pricier valuables. Standing there was the woman I loved working frantically at the combination to the safe, as a man in a ski mask stood behind her with a gun pointed at her back, clearly growing impatient from the look of his body language.

  In that moment, I felt like screaming at the top of my lungs. Like leaping through the screen of my phone, and tearing that man's head off before he even knew what hit him.

  I knew for a fact that Veronica didn't know the combination to my safe. I'd never given it to her, or to anyone for that matter. Not because I didn't trust her with my life, but because I'd honestly never thought of her needing to know it, and she'd never made a point of asking me.

  But God how I hated myself now for failing to tell her. It might just be the thing that ended up saving her life.

  If that didn't, I knew, then I had no choice but to save her myself...

  I must have stood there for about half a minute, wrapping my head around the scene unfolding before my eyes. Then, without giving it another thought, I bolted from the spot, sure I could get there before the police, and wanting to get my hands on the son of a bitch before they beat me to it.

  “What's going on?” I heard Rita call to me, just as I was leaping out the door.

  “An emergency! Watch Julie for me and make sure you keep her safe!”

  This must have scared the bajeezus out of her, but I was too preoccupied to stand still long enough to explain.

  I needed to make it to my wife-to-be before it became entirely too late...

  8

  Veronica

  “Hurry the fuck up!” he boomed at me.

  The tears were streaming down my face so hard I could barely see. My hands shook as I twisted the dial to the safe, my fingers trembling uncontrollably, my head spinning as I struggled to believe that this could all really be happening.

  The way things were going, it felt like there was a very real chance I may only have minutes left to live...

  “I'm sorry... I'm sorry!” I pleaded with him, shaking my head.

  “You're gonna be sorry!” he roared, and it just made things worse.

  I was trying my absolute hardest. I'd tried out every combination to the safe I could think of. Every date of significance in Johnathan's life that he'd let me in on, everything between the two of us that might possibly be the code I was looking for. His birthday. My birthday. Julie's birthday. The anniversary of the day he'd first told me how he felt about me, even the day he'd first hired me to work for him. His anniversary with his deceased wife.

  And yet, nothing...


  I'd suspected that it wouldn't be anything so simple. That a man as smart and as successful as him would be far more cautious in coming up with a security code than using something that anyone who knew him well enough could guess. Maybe if I tried, maybe if I appeased this son of a bitch the best that I could, he would at least let me live.

  He was rapidly losing patience, though. He'd taken on a massive gamble, and it wasn't paying off the way he wanted it to.

  “I said hurry up! What the hell is taking you so long?” he boomed at me, and I gasped, choking back a desperate sob.