“And you’ve always been too much of a slut for my taste.”
“Now that he’s dead, I guess I’ll have to fire you.”
“I regret to inform you…”
“Shut up, Trace. Really.”
“I must inform you that Dirk Baxter is not dead.”
I sat down on the toilet seat of the stall I was in. My knees just collapsed and my throat tightened. The hand holding the phone shook.
“Did you hear me Scarlet? Dirk is alive. You and your goons failed.”
“How?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he scoffed.
I immediately hung up. When my body finally cooperated, I left the restroom, gave an excuse to my girlfriends, and rushed home. On the way, I called a limo company that I had on retainer with orders to pick me up at my apartment.
I already had bags partially packed just in case of an emergency. Three, in fact. One had some clothes that I couldn’t part with. The second had shoes I couldn’t leave behind. I added more until they were full. Then I grabbed the third bag from my closet and emptied the contents of my safe hidden in the back of the closet. It contained cash, passports and ids with a new name, legal papers for the properties I now owned in Belize, and three burner phones.
The limo arrived and as it pulled away and turned a corner, two Baxter Security vehicles pulled up to my apartment and a half-dozen men spilled out and entered the house.
I had gotten out of there just in time. They wouldn’t find anything that would lead them to my new identity and within an hour, the limo dropped me off at the Long Beach Airport right outside my leased jet.
A half-hour later we were taking off, and I gazed down at the LA buildings and roads as we headed southeast, away from a life that had been pretty good to me. Granted, I didn’t have my 250 million dollars. I didn’t even have the one million I was due for divorcing Dirk.
I had, however, siphoned off twenty million dollars, which, except for the hundred thousand in my bag, all sat safely in an offshore account in Belize. So many of the ventures that Dirk had invested in for me ended up with me squirreling away money. I had purchased the resort home in Belize as a “set location” for a movie that never happened.
The steward, a handsome young man with large hands and a beautiful jaw, served me my second drink. I eyed him up and down, from his well-groomed hair to his tight-fitting pants. With Stu gone, he might make for a fun little romp to win me admittance into the mile-high club.
This chapter of my life was over. I looked forward to the next chapter with no regrets and plenty of enthusiasm. The steward’s dick in my mouth or pussy sounded like an excellent way to pass the time between here and my new home. My new identity.
“What’s your name?” I asked the steward with a lusty look on my face.
Chapter36
Contract Fulfilled
I sat in my office,reviewing notes from previous appointments with my next client. It was late afternoon, and the sun shone through the thin window. The sun and a desk lamp illuminated my workspace. Two weeks had passed and my physical wounds were all but healed except for a red mark that still marred my wrist. The emotional ones might take a while. Besides my notes, I had plenty of experiences with my client to add to the thoughts swirling through my head.
The intercom on my phone beeped.
“Yeah?”
“Your client is here.”
“Send him in.”
The door opened, and Penny let Dirk in. We were meeting on a Monday rather than our usual Friday time. He had always asked me to dinner after every session. Perhaps, since we weren’t meeting on Friday, he wouldn’t do that this time. Maybe after all that had happened, the feelings he had for me had dissipated, or worse yet, disappeared.
My heart beat a little faster. My belly tightened. At one point during this crazy mess, I thought he was dead. To see him walking through the door alive made my entire body react as if it was Christmas morning. Dirk Baxter—Mr. Dark Eyes, soon to be a billionaire—was alive.
Dirk took his usual seat on the couch. When I met his intense stare, I felt like his eyes would burn right through me. He focused intently on me, and his look seemed to carry either menace or passion. I couldn’t really tell which one at times. Today I was sure it was passion. My mind raced through the events that happened after Trace and his team rescued me.
After the shootout at the warehouse, an ambulance had taken me to the nearest hospital where they treated my dehydration, my bleeding wrist, and assessed my mental health. Grief was my number one emotional stress during my stay. I didn’t realize how much I had cared for Dirk until I found out he was dead. While I tried to put on a strong face talking to the nurses and the psychiatrist, tears were a constant symptom.
It wasn’t until Trace came to see me I learned the good news. Dirk was alive. Trace seeing Stu and Wagner on video administering the drug after Dirk developed seizures led them to administer the right drug to counter the morphine overdose. He also had the idea of moving Dirk and pretending he was dead whenever anyone came to visit. Especially Scarlet.
