My Fake Billionaire Damaged Boyfriend : An Age Gap Romance
My Fake Billionaire Damaged Boyfriend Chapter 6

Dimitri

I wait outside the lobby doors, waiting for my false girlfriend. I even went all out and bought her some roses, holding them like the poster boy for a gentleman and a half-decent boyfriend.

While this is perhaps the oddest Friday night I've had in a while, I can't imagine it being any worse than it is now. Alek stalks outside, grinning ear to ear as he meets me on the sidewalk. I feel like a toddler with my parents ushering him to knock on his kindergarten crush's front door to ask for a date. I lean against my sleek car, the one I bought before Alek tried to outdo me and buy a newer model.

Still, I know he resents the fact that we have the same brand of luxury car. He wants to be the head boss, the man with all the money in the world, and it burns him to think that I'm f*****g his new favorite little coding hire.

While not entirely true, it's not something I'm opposed to either.

"Well, isn't this nice," Alek sighs, looking over me curiously. "Coming to get your date from work?"

"Yeah, that's the plan," I sigh, the vase of roses growing heavy in my hands. "How was it today after you questioned her s*x life during work hours?"

He sneers at my explicit question, trying hard to forget that moment that ever happened, I'm sure. "It was fine. She did some coding with the team downstairs and is starting a new project." "What would that be, exactly?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he fires back. "I had her sign an NDA clause for my protection, given the proximity of you two now. I'd love to give you the details, but it wouldn't be very appropriate, obviously. I think it's best if you just stick to roses and chauffeuring, Dimitri. It suits you."

"Hey, that's a good idea," I taunt. "When I'm the leading Producer of tech software in the North-West, I'll have more time to dick around like you do. Maybe that includes taking my girlfriend out to dinner and buying her flowers. Good tip. I'm just curious what you'll be doing with your time, Alek."

"Don't worry about me," he grumbles, stalking off in irritancy. "I'll be just fine."

I spy the petite woman that is like a little firecracker when she's angry. She is calmer now, obviously with the hours that have passed, and she hurries to the car while keeping her head down. She still has some coworkers coming out, watching her every move around me, and I can tell she just wants to get away.

"Here," I sigh, moving to kiss her cheek while I pass her the flowers. "Get in while Alek is still watching."

She takes the roses in her lap while I shut the door, waving towards her boss as he stalks down the hallway, turning to take another glance in our direction. I wave to him amicably, just to see the sneer he creates, and I watch him walk off into the Seattle haze.

Izzy looks irritated in the passenger seat, holding the vase in her lap while the bush of roses pokes her in the face. I climb into the driver's seat and try not to laugh, reading her expression like I've known her for years. She leans as far back as possible, and there are still enough roses to touch her face and the inside of the window.

"Why didn't you just buy the whole florist's shop while you were at it?" she groans.

I admire her sarcasm, smiling proudly while she looks like she's being crushed by a tree of flowers. "I might do that next time."

"Next time? What do you mean?"

"We're dating now," I insist. "You know that. You were in the meeting."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean it's real. We're fake dating to cover our tracks for breaking into the mainframe, right?" "I'm not going to propose, okay? Relax."

She shakes her head, already wanting to get out of my car. "How long until we're in your weird tower of an apartment?"

"First off, it's not weird. It's a very important part of Seattle history, being the first skyscraper in town," I reply. "Secondly, I think you're really just upset because you don't see the potential of our situation. We really could do whatever we want now, Kitten. Think about it, we can hack through Alek's mainframe because it's clear he can't trace us, not without your help, but we can just play it off as us being some happy, corny couple. He can't fire you for being in a relationship with a rival."

"That might be true, but everyone was looking at me weird today," she whispers under her breath. "I already don't have any friends in Seattle. Now, people were acting like I was some kind of spy for you and your company." "Technically..."

"Just because I want to see the gateway in the code, doesn't mean that I work for you. It also doesn't mean that we're a real couple. It just means we have the same goal." "Exactly. Taking down Alek Ivica."

"No," she warns, exasperated. "Finding the truth would be a good start. I don't want to take down my boss if he's doing something wrong. The gateway could be a million things, okay? It's nothing we have to jump to conclusions on yet." "Got it," I say, ignoring her outright.

Truthfully, we are working together, and she doesn't want to admit it. A week into her new job and she's already running a mutiny. I like her tenacity, and her boldness in finding the truth, and faking a relationship with her will be easy because her little angry outbursts are almost as cute as her when she's calm and asleep.

I couldn't possibly fall asleep on the couch when I brought her home on Monday night. Instead, I looked through the rest of the code to see if it matched my father's original design decades ago. Alek knows he's stolen and profited from my father's work, but I'm going to use this back door to make him pay for it.

Izzy is going to help me with that, she just doesn't know it yet.

She also won't know that I enjoyed watching her whimpering in her sleep that night, her little turns in bed nearly sending me off the edge as her shirt rode up over her hips and exposed her thong. I didn't see much beyond the blanket, but the thought of her beauty only set me more on fire.

I want her. She wants me.

So why can't we just indulge for once?

"I need to get these out of my lap or I'm going to suffocate," she grumbles, fumbling with the flowers. "Why did you buy me roses, anyways? What if Alek parked in the garage and wouldn't have seen your little fake display?"

"Well, the flowers were for you because of my behavior earlier today. That's it."

She doesn't seem convinced, and I can't blame her for being skeptical of me. I pull over against the curb and into my assigned parking on the street. Thankfully, even with the tower so busy at all hours, I still get my own spot. I open her door, take the flowers, and watch her get out and brush the red loose petals off her lap. She's covered in pollen from the little pockets of white flowers that are stuffed between roses, and she hardly seems amused.

"I'll carry these," I offer, knowing she's already fed up with this situation. I'm not helping. "Come on, let's go upstairs. I can order some food and we can play with the code. Okay?"

"Yeah, that does sound fun, I guess."

I lead the way inside, and we make it up to the top floor and into my penthouse without her taking a breath. She gasps for air as she comes into the living room, her chest heaving like she's just walked the stairs to get up here, but I know she's just not happy with the small elevator. I give her time alone to calm down, setting the roses in the sink with some new water from the faucet.

My place is a little messy from the week, a lot of my work files strewn over my coffee table for when I didn't care to actually go in and use my office desk downtown. Most of the time I'm dealing with HR and needy coding women that flirt far too much for a professional environment.

Besides that, I have no desire to be gawked at like I'm some kind of rich a*****e who doesn't know how to code. Everyonethinks that my father simply gave me his company as a handout. He gave me a multi-million-dollar tech company that he branched off from his work with Alek. When it fell into my lap, everyone saw me as underqualified.

Nepotism, they called it.

I went to the most prestigious tech school, I worked my fingers until they bled against that keyboard every night, and they still underestimated me. Everyone always does-except Izzy.

She picks up a stack of papers and turns them over in her delicate, unpolished fingertips. "This is wild," she breathes. "How did you manage to get this kind of information? This is the data statistics of impressions put on users through the last decade. I didn't even know that technology was accessible that far back."

"It wasn't, at least not mainstream," I reply simply. "My father found his way around everything, though."

She collapses into the couch and pulls her legs to her stomach. She shifts through the data like she's reading a decent book, something so simple about this woman in a world too complex to handle her. I escape into the bedroom for a bit and change into some loose jeans. I debate wearing a shirt, but I love the expression on her lips when she sees my tattoos.

It's somewhere between shock and admiration, and I adore it completely.

"Hey, look at this," her voice calls from the bedroom. Leaving my ensuite closet, I find her bent over the desk looking at the monitor of my computer. Her a*s looks so good in her long skirt, and I ignore it for the sake of my c**k pressing against my rough jean zipper. "This is interesting," she adds. "The code is rewriting itself."

I come beside her, the monitor shifting through pages and pages of numbers that look like they may never end. I grab the mouse to zoom in closer, the numbers filling the page and creating new page after new page... it doesn't wait for me, and we're left to watch the back gate disappear before our eyes.

"It's gone, dammit," I bite, wanting to send the mouse through the monitor. "F**k! He knows we were logged in too, I'm sure. He's going to have some hacking fucker bury it so far in miscellaneous type that we won't be able to go through the gate again." "Relax, will you? I can do this," she says coolly, pulling out the chair and sliding herself into place. "If you end up ordering food, I like pizza with black olives."

I can't help but grin at her determination-and her warranted confidence. "Alright, but can I say one thing about that before you get back to digging?" "What?"

"Black olives on pizza are weird."

She sneers over her shoulder at me, her button nose scrunched, and her lips pursed. "You live above an observatory, okay? Don't tell me I'm weird." "This place is a gem, and you know it. You're just mad that I can see over the whole city any time I want."

"I can do that too," she replies.

"Really? And how is that?"

"Because we're dating now, right?"

I bite back a laugh and surrender with a meek nod. "Yeah, yeah. I guess you're right."

"I'm always right. Now, if you get that pizza, I want extra cheese on it too."

Without the will in me to argue, I abide. "Of course, Kitten. Happy hunting"