Page 4 of The Rebel Billionaire

“What’s this?”

“Your life story. Read it, memorise it, and then destroy it before you leave this plane. You have a near-photographic memory. I’m not asking the impossible.”

Fuck, not many people know that.

“Stick to the facts listed when discussing your past, but my recommendation is to keep to yourself as much as you can. It’ll be safer that way.”

I flick through the pages. Family members, friends, schools, places I liked to hang out as a child, clubs I went to in my teens. The names of old boyfriends, my first part-time job, and my full-time job.

Shit, they’ve thought of everything.

I glance up.

Understanding passes over her face.

“I know it’s a lot…”

“Please don’t say you understand or that it won’t be easy.”

“Oh, it won’t. It’s going to be damn near impossible.” Her chin lifts. “You’re intelligent, sociable, not to mention impulsive and reckless. Your influencer platform and your partying days have shone a spotlight on you. I’m asking you to become a nobody, someone people walk past in the street, the wallflower at every party. Brooke Feldmann must become everything Harper Frazer is not.”

Bile burns the back of my throat.

Too much time inside my own head has never been a good thing. Can I go against my natural DNA? My personality?

If I’m not Harper Frazer, what is left for people to be drawn to?

For the safety of my family. I’ll do anything. Never again will I⁠—

I close my eyes and refocus.

“You must delete your social media presence. Brooke Feldmann is not online, and it must remain that way. Photographs and posts can be flagged, searched, and matched through facial recognition. You need to disappear, become untraceable. You’re moving to a city where cameras are on every building and street corner, and in every hallway.”

“So why am I going to New York? Surely⁠—”

“Because hiding in plain sight is the smart thing to do. People won’t expect to see you, so they don’t. When I say your old life is dangerous, traceable, I mean it. Harper Frazer has a target on her back. I’ll not have you put the men I’m assigning to you at risk.”

“Assigning me?”

“A specialist protection unit will be close at hand. You are not to interact with them, but know they’re there, watching, ensuring your safety.”

I open my mouth, but she turns towards the man standing behind her, a man who has stared straight ahead the whole time we’ve been talking.

He glances down and hands her another envelope.

I groan, earning myself a scowl.

She pulls out a document.

“This sets out strict behavioural rules and serves as a memorandum of understanding. It states you agree to adopt Brooke Feldmann’s persona, stay off all social media, and cut ties with everyone previously linked to Harper Frazer. This will remain in place until an as-yet-undisclosed date.”

“Friends and social media, I can do. Family, that’s never going to happen. They’ll worry about me. If I disappear without a trace, they’ll stop at nothing to find me. As you yourself said, Mum is expecting certain things. Contact and regular updates are among them.”

She stops, weighing me up.

“Fine,” she says, pursing her lips. “I take it Penelope gave you a secure phone.”

My jaw drops.