Page 6 of Three Suave Billionaires and a Fake Chauffeur

Before I can say another word, Warren wraps his hand around my arm and guides me upstairs and into a bedroom. He closes the door behind me.

Oh, this is bad—so, so bad. I contemplate escaping from the window but remember I won't make it down in one piece. No. I have to think about this logically. They believed that I was just standing in for my brother because I didn't want him to lose his job. And that still stands. I don't think Dean would forgive me if I messed this up for him. I have to play nice with the billionaires, and they mustn't suspect a thing, not now, or afterward when Dean returns to his job.

I can do this. I just have to wait for an opportunity to go back to their study. And then the bedroom door opens.

I glance around nervously as a team of the most beautiful people I've ever seen enter the room. They're pulling in rails of clothes and carrying huge black bags.

They smile at me warmly, compliment me profusely, call me a canvas that just needs a little color, and tell me I'll be the belle of the ball. I'm sure they say the same thing to all the people they work on, so I just don't believe I, with my blunt nails and hair that hasn't been cut in forever, nicks on my legs, and scraped elbow, am anything like the person they're describing.

As they unpack their stuff—the kind of high-end cosmetics that really only the uber-wealthy can afford—I forget all my pep talks and try to make a run for it. I won't survive being in the billionaires' company a second longer.

"Umm... the dresses are absolutely beautiful, and you are all so amazing, but I just remembered I have somewhere else to be. I'm so sorry. But this would have been so, so wonderful, as you all are."

I inch toward the door. No one is stopping me. Rather, they're looking at me in confusion, as if wondering where the hell I think I'm going.

I turn the knob; the door opens. Maybe I can sneak into the study and sneak out without any of them suspecting a thing.

Tentatively, I peek my head out of the door to scan what lies ahead of me.

I jump back in such utter shock I'm stunned I haven't landed on my backside.

Leaning against a pillar is Max. He offers me a smile again, giving my brain express permission for my knees to bend. Instead, I right myself immediately. This isn't funny anymore.

I'm being held captive. I don't care that my captors are three global titan billionaires, each one of them so ridiculously gorgeous it should be sinful or, at the very least, illegal.

Chapter Five

––––––––

Lucy

It's all so surreal. One moment I stood in front of a mirror in my brother's chauffeur suit, with fake stubble on my face and boots so thick I worked up a sweat dragging myself around.

Now...

Now I'm completely transformed into someone I don't recognize. I opted to take a shower before putting on the gown, which means I spent way too long scrubbing at my skin, and now, thanks to the make-up artist's oils and lotions, I'm positively gleaming.

The dress was made for a princess; there's no arguing that. In shades of pastel pink and lavender, my shoulders are completely bare while the bodice hugs my body like a second skin before it flows into a river of silk.

My hair has been curled into waves and hangs down my back, and my makeup is so minimal I can still very much see all of myself in the mirror—all my flaws, too. But I actually look pretty, which is an odd feeling for me to have.

Ugh, I chide myself, this isn't the moment for some self-reflection breakthrough. Did I forget my life is a mess? And I'm not even exaggerating.

Dammit, I wasn't supposed to get caught. By now I should have been driving the unsuspecting billionaires to their posh party with my mission accomplished, meaning my brother and I would be safe.

But no. Here I am, wearing a dress that costs more money than I make in three whole years, going to a dinner party as the date of three stupidly handsome billionaires because I forgot to pick up their real date while pretending to be the chauffeur they'd newly hired. I can't even explain what my universe is smoking at this point.

One of the ladies escorts me out of the house, through the foyer, and out the front door, and there, standing beside a very luxurious car, are Peter, Warren, and Max. I guess I'm on a first-name basis now with my victims. They just don't know they're my victims yet.

That fluttering feeling of seeing them again takes a strong hold of me, and my legs quiver as I walk toward them.

Warren opens the car door for me, while Max slips in next to me. Warren takes the front passenger seat while Peter drives.

And so begins my journey into the unknown. I clasp my hands tightly so I don't cause any more havoc, and I seal my lips so I don't spill everything, with no guarantee my brother and I would be safe. It's ridiculous, is what this is, I want to shout, as the scent of their rich, sophisticated cologne reaches me, as the power that emanates from their bodies heats the air between us and consumes every inch of my skin.

I'm barely breathing and at risk of passing out when finally we arrive at another mansion, so secluded it's hidden by forests.

My nerves already at the edge of their threshold, I just about die as they each take turns to hold my hand or place their hand on the small of my back as they lead me on.