Tempted by My Best Friend's Billionaire Dad

The Aegis's lower deck smelled of diesel and salt air. Lisa Moon didn't belong on a two-hundred-foot yacht anchored off Monte Carlo, and she certainly didn't belong in the crew corridor below the waterline, a stolen master key card in her hand. But six thousand dollars in unpaid school fees left no room for pride. Alice Thorp's birthday party was in full swing three decks above, with champagne and loud laughter, while Lisa, the girl nobody noticed, dragged a bulky cloth laundry bag along the corridor. She reached for the handle of the private study with damp palms, and the steel door at the far end of the corridor opened with a hiss. Lisa crouched behind the casing of the backup generator and pulled the laundry bag over her knees. The metal was cold against her back. She held her breath until her chest hurt. Two men came into the corridor. The first was Edwin Thorp, Alice's uncle, whose face turned up regularly in news about money scandals; he was red in the face and breathing hard. The second man made no sound at all. He wore a fitted charcoal suit, his shoulders nearly touched both walls, and there was silver in his dark, swept-back hair. Frank Thorp. He was Alice's father, and he had not dressed for his daughter's twenty-second birthday. He had the manner of a man who had stepped out of a board meeting to deal with a single item, and Edwin was the item. "You're out of options, Edwin," Frank said. He did not raise his voice; it was low and without warmth. "The offshore accounts in Panama were found by government investigators two hours ago. You signed the transfers using the firm's main bank code." "It was a short-term loan, Frank!" Edwin's voice broke. "Jonathan promised the offshore returns. The old man said..." "Jonathan is eighty-two and waiting for a kidney in Zurich," Frank said, stepping closer. His height put a long shadow on the wall and over his younger brother. "He doesn't cover your debts anymore. I do, and I don't cover betrayal." Lisa shut her eyes and pressed her fingers over her mouth to muffle her breathing. Just walk past, she thought. Just go back upstairs. "You think you're untouchable," Edwin said, his fear turning into anger. "You run the firm, so you think you own every Thorp there is. You don't own me, Frank, and I'm not going to prison so you can decide who gets punished." A metallic click came from the corridor. Lisa opened her eyes. Past the edge of the generator casing she saw the dull black of a pistol in Edwin's hand; he was shaking badly, and the barrel was aimed at Frank's chest. Frank did not move. His hands stayed in his trouser pockets, and he looked at the weapon without alarm. "You don't have it in you," he said quietly. "Lower the gun before Glover finds you down here." "Glover isn't coming!" Edwin shouted. His panic was complete now, and his finger moved on the trigger. Lisa moved before she had decided to. She did not think about her law career, or about the fact that Frank barely knew her name beyond the formal dinners Alice invited her to. She saw only a man about to be shot three feet from her. She came out from behind the generator, pulled the fire extinguisher from its wall bracket, and shouted, "Drop it!" The clang of metal and her cry made Edwin flinch toward her, and his finger closed on the trigger. The shot in the enclosed corridor was deafening, and a white flash lit the air. Pain went through her left shoulder, followed by a heat that spread outward and took the air from her lungs. Her knees gave way, and the deck came up against her hip; she did not hear the extinguisher fall. Before she reached the floor, Frank caught her. He smelled of tobacco and blood. He had crossed the distance in under a second, and he held his palm hard over her collarbone, pressing on the wound. "Lisa," he said. It was the first time she had heard him use her name, and there was no business calm in it. Behind them, the door opened and Michael Glover came down the steps with a silenced pistol already aimed at Edwin. He did not fire; he kicked Edwin's legs out from under him, and Edwin fell face-first onto the deck, where Glover held his head down with a boot. "Take him to the harbor house," Frank said. His hands were slick with Lisa's blood. "No hospital, and no police." "Understood, sir." Glover pulled the sobbing Edwin up by the collar and pushed him toward the rear exit. Lisa caught weakly at the sleeve of Frank's jacket. Each breath hurt. "I saw..." "Be quiet." He lifted her without effort and ignored the blood spreading on his jacket and dripping onto his shoes. He held her close and watched her face, and his expression frightened her more than the gun had. "Look at me, Lisa." He put his thumb under her chin and raised it. "Keep your eyes on me." "I was getting the laundry," she said, and tears left clean tracks through the dust on her cheeks. "Alice sent me." "Alice isn't here," Frank said, in a clipped, level voice. "You're in my world now. Do you understand what just happened down here?" Lisa shook her head slightly; gray spots were crowding her vision. "He was going to kill you." "He tried." He started up the metal stairs with her in his arms. "And you stepped in front of a bullet for a man you don't know. That makes you either very brave or very foolish." "I'm broke," she said. Her voice had thinned and her arms and legs were going numb. "I can't die broke." Frank's face changed for a moment, and he stopped at the top of the stairs to look down at the pale law student bleeding into his shirt. "You aren't going to die," he said. "You saved my life, Lisa, so from this moment your life belongs to me. I own your debts, and I own your silence." "I won't say anything." "I know," he said, and tightened his hold on her, but she did not hear the rest.