THE BILLIONAIRE CEO FELL FOR HER PRIVATE DRIVER

At 10:07 p.m., Ethan Carter’s boss called from a hotel room and offered him ten thousand dollars to pretend he was sleeping with the boss’s mistress. Ethan stared at his phone. “Sir, say that again.” “Get upstairs. Room 805. Now.” Marcus Anderson sounded terrified. That alone was enough to worry Ethan. Marcus could lose a million dollars before lunch and complain more about his coffee. Tonight, his voice shook. Ethan looked through the windshield of the Rolls-Royce parked outside the Bellmont Hotel. “You want me to pretend Olivia is my girlfriend?” “Yes.” “Olivia Bennett. Your executive assistant.” “Ethan.” “The woman you brought upstairs two hours ago.” A pause. Then Marcus hissed, “My wife is here.” Ethan sat up. “Sophia?” Two black SUVs pulled up outside the hotel. Four men in dark suits stepped out. Ethan recognized Sophia Anderson’s head of security. “Oh, hell.” “Exactly. She’s coming upstairs. You came here to meet Olivia. I only stopped by for business.” “That story is terrible.” “Then make it believable.” “I drive your car. I don’t write fiction.” “Ten thousand dollars.” Ethan went quiet. Ten years driving for Marcus had taught him when to keep his mouth shut. Airports. Board meetings. Private clubs. Hotels. A good private driver was punctual, discreet, and very skilled at forgetting things. But this was different. “You’re asking me to lie directly to your wife.” “I’m asking you to save my marriage.” “You should’ve thought about your marriage before booking Room 805.” “Ethan!” The call ended. Ethan stared at the phone. He should leave. Instead, he killed the engine. Ten thousand dollars was ten thousand dollars. “Worst bonus I’ve ever earned.” Marcus dragged him into Room 805 before Ethan could knock twice. “You took forever.” “It took three minutes.” “Three very important minutes.” Marcus Anderson was fifty-two, obscenely wealthy, and usually acted as though every room belonged to him. Now his shirt was half-buttoned, his hair was disordered, and all that billionaire confidence had disappeared. Olivia stood beside the bed. Her auburn hair had been hurriedly fixed, but her flushed face told Ethan enough. She wouldn’t meet his eyes. Marcus pointed between them. “You two are dating.” Ethan looked at Olivia. Olivia looked at him. “No,” they said together. “For tonight, you are.” A knock sounded. Three controlled taps. Everyone froze. Then came a woman’s voice. “Marcus.” Sophia Anderson. Marcus went pale. He glanced at the bathroom, then the balcony. Finally, he opened the closet. Ethan stared at him. “You cannot be serious.” “Keep her busy.” “You’re a billionaire hiding in a closet.” “And you’re an employee who wants ten thousand dollars.” He disappeared inside. The closet door closed. Ethan looked at Olivia. “This is insane.” “If she catches him with me, my career is over.” That wiped the humor from Ethan’s face. Marcus would survive a scandal. Men like Marcus always seemed to. Olivia would become the assistant who slept with her married CEO. Every business contact would remember her for the wrong reason. Another knock. Olivia grabbed Ethan’s wrist. “Sit.” They dropped onto the sofa. “Closer,” she whispered. He shifted slightly. She glared. “Ethan.” “What?” “We’re supposed to be dating.” “I’ve never fake-dated my boss’s mistress before. Give me a minute.” Despite everything, her mouth twitched. Then the door handle moved. Olivia immediately pressed against him. “Put your arm around me.” Ethan did. Her body was tense beneath his hand. She was genuinely frightened. “Did Marcus tell you he was leaving Sophia?” Ethan whispered. Olivia looked away. That was answer enough. The hotel door opened. Two security men entered first. Then Sophia Anderson walked into the room. Ethan had driven her several times over the years. She was nothing like Marcus. She never shouted. Never kept employees waiting unnecessarily. And she noticed everything. Tonight she wore a charcoal suit over a cream blouse, her dark hair loose over one shoulder. She didn’t resemble an angry wife. She looked like a CEO arriving to investigate a company she already knew was guilty. Her gaze swept across the room. Two wineglasses. Olivia. Ethan. The closet. She paused there for half a second. Ethan’s stomach tightened. She knew. Sophia looked at Olivia. “Where is my husband?” Olivia stood. “Mrs. Anderson.” “That wasn't my question.” “Marcus isn't here.” Sophia glanced at the second wineglass. “No?” “He stopped by earlier.” “To do what?” Olivia hesitated. Ethan stood. “Business.” Sophia turned toward him. “Ethan Carter.” “Mrs. Anderson.” “You’ve driven for my husband for ten years.” “Ten years and four months.” Her eyebrow rose. “You count the months?” “My retirement plan requires optimism.” For the briefest moment, amusement touched her eyes. Then it vanished. “What are you doing here with my husband’s assistant?” There it was. The ten-thousand-dollar question. Ethan slipped his hands into his pockets. “We’re seeing each other.” Silence. Sophia turned to Olivia. Olivia recovered quickly. “Yes.” “How long?” “Three months.” Ethan looked at her. Olivia immediately took his hand and squeezed hard. Apparently they had been dating for three months. Nice of someone to tell him. Sophia caught his reaction. “Three months?” “Yes,” Olivia said. “And nobody knows?” “We wanted privacy.” Sophia looked directly at Ethan. “Is that true?” He had lied for Marcus before. Little things. Schedules. Meetings. Where his boss had spent an evening. But lying while Sophia stared into his eyes felt different. “Yes.” A faint noise came from the closet. Olivia stopped breathing. Sophia slowly turned her head. Five seconds passed. Then she looked back at Ethan. That was when he became certain. She knew Marcus was hiding there. So why wasn’t she opening the door? Sophia removed her jacket. “Wait outside,” she told her security men. They obeyed. She placed the jacket over an armchair and sat opposite Ethan and Olivia. “All right.” Ethan frowned. “All right?” “You said you're dating.” “Yes.” “And I interrupted you.” He did not like where this was going. Sophia gestured toward them. “Continue.” Olivia stared. “Excuse me?” “Your date.” Ethan finally understood. She wasn’t fooled. She was testing them. Sophia leaned back. “Three months together and you sit like coworkers waiting for a meeting.” Olivia moved closer. Ethan put an arm around her waist. Her hand rested against his chest. Sophia watched every movement. Then she asked, “Have you kissed her?” Ethan’s pulse jumped. Olivia’s fingers tightened against his shirt. Marcus was hiding in the closet. His wife was sitting six feet away. And she had just ordered Ethan to kiss her husband’s mistress. He looked at Olivia. She gave a tiny nod. Ethan leaned toward her. Their lips were almost touching when Sophia spoke. “Stop.” They froze. Sophia stood and picked up her jacket. At the door, she looked directly at Ethan. “Tomorrow morning. Nine o’clock.” His stomach tightened. “Your office?” “Yes.” “Am I being fired?” “That depends.” “On what?” Sophia opened the door. A faint smile touched her lips. “On whether you're as good at lying when my husband isn't hiding in a closet.” She walked out. The door closed. Silence. A moment later, the closet opened. Marcus emerged. “What the hell does that mean?” Ethan didn’t answer. For the first time in ten years, he wasn’t wondering what Marcus Anderson wanted from him. He was wondering what Sophia Anderson wanted at nine tomorrow morning. And somehow, that felt far more dangerous.