Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You're Nothing Now

o and cheap cologne, sat across from Adam's massive desk. He looked unc

It's been twenty-four hours. New York is an islan

eet of paper on the desk. It was blank, except

, Mr. Payne. I

p the paper.

ndard trace. Credit checks, rental applications, hot

nd

lock. My screen went black, and this warning popped up." Russo pointe

us sound. "The NSA? For Jessye? My wife bakes cookies

ved for two types of people: Witness Protection, or National Assets. S

ear before we married. It's a pharmaceutical company, not the Pentagon. If s

bed clean. She must have activated some kind of civilian protocol when she married you. But now? The slee

mpty chair where Jessye used to sit during his office pa

s lingering on the red text. She knew. She had always known. She was a biochem major befor

looking for her... maybe check the guest list for the Scie

e. She hates crowds. She's probably hi

n't care about the NSA. Use manual survei

nts are d

ons. The Haley Manor. It's been b

t. The summer crowds were gone, lea

ines. The trees opened up to reveal Haley Manor-a sprawling, stone estate perched on a cliff overlooking the Atl

ndow. The salt air hit he

of the main house was an elderly man in a tweed suit. A

f the car. Her legs

thick with emotion. He bowed his head.

t didn't look abandoned. The windows were clean. The l

ed. "I stopped the payments wh

nn," Alf

roze. "B

e house must be ready fo

t smelled of beeswax and old paper-the scent of her childhood. She walked down the long hallwa

or. It was slightly ajar. Fir

ed the d

houldered, wearing a charcoal three-piece suit that fit him like ar

. His voice was deep, resonant, l

of Wall Street', and her oldest friend. His face was sharper than she remembered,

," Jessye

He stopped a foot away from her, respecti

wasn't a question. It wa

," she c

taking her hand. He turned it over, looking at the faint red mark wh

," Jessye said

brushing over her knuckles. "And the W.D. Labs board has rei

t him. "Why did you wait for m

ered through her. "I knew the bird would eventually outgrow the cag

ping back to the desk. He

morrow. Are you r

" Jess

erous light. "Because I'll be there. And th

list on his iPad, drinking scotch straight from the bottle. H

nger s

head of him.

rector, Project Da

wed his ey

Impossible. She doesn't have the stomach for the stage. It must be

rying the niggling suspicion

t was taking shape, and for the first time in his lif