Page 11 of The Rebel Billionaire

“This is the part where I say I won’t let you down.”

“Good.” She nods in my direction. “Sandro, my eldest, now runs the company. We’ll visit him on Monday, before I take you to see human resources. My endorsement will be enough for them to find you a position. I take it all your references are in order?”

“They are,” I say, with a confidence I’m not sure I feel.

I can only rely on what The Seamstress promised.

“What will Sandro think?” I ask, surprised when she chuckles.

“Oh, he’ll hate it,” she says, her tone gleeful, making me wonder what I’ve stepped into. “But he’ll survive. It’s not like you’ll have anything to do with him.”

She purses her lips before smiling. “And to you he’s Alessandro. Sandro is my pet name for him,” she admits.

“Good to know,” I say, realising she’s probably saved me from making a grave mistake.

“But before then, we will need to refine your story. My son will be suspicious. He likes to think he knows everything about everything. You, a stranger, appearing out of nowhere, will pique his interest, and he’s meticulous in his attention to detail.”

“But…”

“Don’t worry, he’s my son. He will not defy me, but I cannot allow for any slip-ups. Your, or should I say, our, story must be tight. He’ll pick up on any inconsistencies.”

Unsure what else to say, I nod. I’m not sure I’m ready to meet Alessandro Bianchi. At least not before I’ve had a chance to focus on becoming Brooke. The last thing I need is another person studying me.

I don’t point it out to her. She is, after all, the only person in here I can safely approach. Her ties to my mother are untraceable, from what I could glean. Their friendship stems from a time before Mum’s life with Dad.

Luckily for me, I only have a few acquaintances who live in and around New York, and, no reason to cross paths with them. I certainly won’t be frequenting their usual places, or going out much at all, if I follow The Seamstress’s instructions. I’m small-town Brooke, not fast-living Harper.

My stomach lurches when I think of Mum, my brothers and sister, their families. Yes, we all live separate lives, but we always have each other’s backs. Here I am, all alone, placing my trust and life in the hands of a woman I’ve only just met. Trust has never come easily to me, but now I have to offer it freely.

Well, Harper, you’ve brought this on yourself. After years of rebelling, it’s time to toe the line.

I turn when I realise Sophia is talking to me.

“Let’s get started,” she says, sitting back. “Tell me about yourself.”

Leaning forward, I run my palms down my trousers before beginning to recite Brooke’s life story.

CHAPTER 4

HARPER

Iexit my building and move past my neighbours, who are standing and staring at the shiny Bentley.

Could it be any more conspicuous?

But who am I to argue? Sophia is the only person who knows my real identity. She’s sent her driver to pick me up, so I don’t have to use the subway or take a taxi, both of which risk exposing me.

“Ms Feldmann,” he says, holding open the door. “Lovely to see you again. Mrs Bianchi is waiting for you.”

“Good morning, Benjamin, thank you,” I say, climbing in and breathing a sigh of relief as the door closes, concealing me behind darkened windows.

I sit back and watch the city go by. Everything is larger, wider, more imposing. My phone pings. A message from Caleb.

CALEB:

Hey, how’s it going? Are you all settled in?

I spoke to both Mum and Kat this morning, which helped to ease some of the numbness in my chest.