The Billionaire's Passion Read Online Free PDF

spiel yesterday, and it was boring then too.
    “Seriously?” Grant says.
    “Maybe I can goad him into making a mistake.”
    Grant shakes his head. “Just… see what you can find out.”
    “Oh, and here I thought I’d just chat with him all day,” I say sarcastically.
    I type, Grant was impressed by you sending in a fake FBI squad.
    Clever, wasn’t it? I –
    I interrupt him again. I said GRANT was impressed. I wasn’t. Obviously you haven’t seen any Hollywood movies from the last 20 years, or you’d know you’re as derivate and lame as you think you are brilliant. Which means you’re INCREDIBLY derivative and lame.
    “Jesus, Eve…”
    “What?”
    “He’s not the one on the lam, you know.”
    I’M not the one on the run, now am I? the cursor types out.
    Grant said exactly the same thing, I type. Which means Grant is either as smart as you, or you’re just as dumb as Grant.
    “Hey!” Grant snaps.
    “Kidding.”
    You’re both fools. You’ll be begging me for your deaths very shortly.
    Right, right, I type. Were you the short, fat, fake FBI agent we saw, or the tall, ugly one?
    Cute, Eve. Cute.
    You were the cute one? Now I know you’re delusional.
    You fish for information like a blind man setting up a string of dominoes.
    Very carefully?
    No – with no success, and all your efforts fall in shambles around you. You’ll get no information from me.
    Grant said that there was no way you were in the penthouse, because you’re a coward who kills women. Guess he was right, I typed. Especially now that I know you hacked his security system.
    “Ohhhh God,” Grant mutters.
    “What?” I ask.
    “You really are trying to make this harder on us, aren’t you?”
    “No, I’m trying to get under his skin.”
    You little bitch, the cursor typed. You’re going to suffer more than any of the others ever did.
    “Mission accomplished,” I tell Grant.
    Epicurus keeps typing. I’m going to do such horrible things to you that you have no –
    BORED now, I type. YAWN.
    You insufferable little –
    Hey, Epi-pen? Fuck off.
    Then I pull the computer’s plug out of the wall, instantly shutting it off.
    Grant stares at me in wonder.
    “We can go now,” I say brightly.

15
    Grant parts the Venetian blinds and looks out at the street. “There’s an old Chrysler out there I can hotwire pretty easily.”
    “You can hotwire cars, too?” I ask, incredulous, as I root in a closet and find a baseball cap for him and a hoodie for me.
    “We rappelled down a skyscraper. You think hotwiring cars is complicated?”
    “Okay, okay. How fast can you do it?”
    “30 seconds and we’re on our way.”
    “Why not a taxi? Is it really worth taking that risk?”
    “Considering our pictures are plastered all over every newspaper and television broadcast in the state right now, yeah, I’d say it’s worth the risk.”
    I sigh. “Alright, let’s go.”
    “By the way, that was really hot how you handled Epicurus on the computer,” Grant says, giving me a mischievous look. “Stupid, but hot.”
    “Funny, I’ve been thinking the same about YOU since I found out your ‘hobby’ yesterday. ‘Hot, but definitely stupid.’”
    He grins. “Are you ready?”
    “No. Does that matter?”
    “Not really. Let’s go.”
    And then we’re out the door.

16
    The hotwiring goes off without a hitch. No one spots us, or at least no one makes a commotion. It probably helps that he looks like an overgrown frat boy in his baseball cap, and I’m barely recognizable with my hoodie cinched tight around my eyes and chin.
    It’s only 6:30AM and traffic is light, so twenty minutes later we’re back in the same neighborhood we fled from yesterday – skyscrapers and luxury buildings surrounding Central Park.
    “Please tell me we are not breaking back into your place,” I plead with him.
    “We’re not – although that’s a great counterintuitive move.”
    “NO.”
    “Don’t worry, I have something different planned.”
    “You seem