Behind The Mask

Chapter 11: The Last Dime

POV: Maxwell

The ballroom felt like it was spinning.

I stood completely frozen in the middle of the crowd, watching the emerald green silk of Fiona's dress disappear into the VIP lounge. But I was not just looking at her. My eyes were locked onto Julian Mercer’s large hand resting firmly on the small of her back.

My chest burned. It felt like someone had reached into my ribs and crushed my heart with their bare hands.

Julian Mercer. He was handsome. He was powerful. He looked at her with the kind of worship and respect that I had been too stupid to give her. And the worst part was the way Fiona leaned into him. She looked safe and happy.

She looked like she didn't need me at all.

"Mr. Jordan?" one of the businessmen I had arrived with asked, tapping my shoulder. "Are you alright? You look pale."

"I have to go," I choked out, pushing past him.

I almost ran out of the Hôtel de Crillon. I burst through the doors and out into the cool Paris night air. I leaned against a stone pillar, pulling out my tie, trying to force air into my lungs.

For two years, my life had been a living hell. After Fiona walked out and left her ring on the table, my grandfather kept his promise. He froze my assets. The board of directors voted me out the very next morning. I lost my title, my mansion, and my power. Camilla stole a million dollars from my private safe and disappeared to Los Angeles.

I had spent twenty-four months living in a small, normal apartment, trying to rebuild a tiny consulting firm from absolute scratch. Every single night, I sat in the dark, thinking about the dead look in Fiona's eyes. I realized too late that she was the only real, honest thing in my fake world.

I flew to Paris this week hoping to pitch my new, small company to some European investors. I never expected to see her here. I definitely never expected to see her as a powerful, brilliant United Nations Ambassador.

And I never expected to see her in the arms of another man.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket. My hands were shaking violently. I opened my banking app.

Account Balance: $2,500,000.

Two and a half million dollars. For a normal person, it was a fortune. But for a former billionaire like me, it was pennies. It was the very last of my personal, hidden savings. It was the money I needed to keep my new, struggling business alive for the next year.

If I went back to New York tomorrow, I could survive. I could rebuild my life slowly.

I looked back up at the glowing windows of the hotel ballroom.

I pictured Julian Mercer kissing her cheek again. I pictured him making her laugh. I pictured him putting a ring on her finger… a real ring.

A dark, dangerous fire suddenly roared to life in my stomach.

I didn't care about my business anymore or about being poor. I didn't care if I had to sleep on the streets of Paris. I was not going to let another man take my wife. She might have signed the divorce papers, but in my heart, she still belonged to me.

I opened my phone contacts and dialed a number.

"Hello?" a sleepy voice answered. It was Marcus, my old head of security. He was the only person from my past who hadn't abandoned me.

"Marcus, wake up," I said, my voice cold and sharp. The old Maxwell Jordan was back. "I need you to hack into the United Nations public scheduling system. Find Ambassador Fiona Caldwell’s itinerary for tomorrow morning."

"Mr. Jordan? It's three in the morning in New York. Did you find her?"

"Just do it, Marcus," I ordered.

I heard the sound of a laptop opening. A few minutes of rapid typing echoed through the phone.

"Okay, I'm in," Marcus said. "She has a private breakfast meeting at 9:00 AM at the Café de la Paix. She is meeting with the German Education Delegates. They are looking for a primary donor to fund a massive chain of children's schools in South America. The minimum donation to sit at the table is two million dollars."

I looked down at the $2,500,000 sitting in my bank account. It was everything I had left in the entire world.

"Marcus," I said smoothly. "Wire two million dollars to the German Education Fund right now. Put it under an anonymous name, but register me as the proxy."

"Sir, are you crazy?!" Marcus gasped. "That is your entire safety net! If you give that away, your new business will go bankrupt by Friday! You will have absolutely nothing!"

"I already have nothing," I replied, staring fiercely at the Eiffel Tower in the distance. "Wire the money. And Marcus?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Book my hotel room for another month. I am staying in Paris."

The Next Morning.

At exactly 8:55 AM, I walked into the stunning dining room of the Café de la Paix.

I was wearing my best black suit. I had barely slept.

I tipped the waiter a hundred-dollar bill and pointed to the private VIP section tucked away behind velvet curtains. "The German delegation meeting. I am the primary donor."

The waiter bowed respectfully and pulled the heavy red curtain back for me.

I stepped into the private room.

Sitting at a round marble table were three older German men in suits.

And sitting directly across from them was Fiona.

She looked absolutely breathtaking in a crisp white blazer and matching trousers. Her hair was pulled back perfectly. Julian Mercer was sitting right beside her, his arm casually resting on the back of her chair.

They were all smiling, looking at a tablet in the center of the table.

"We are just waiting for the anonymous donor to arrive," Fiona was saying to the delegates, her voice bright and professional. "Once they sign the paperwork, we can break ground on the first three schools next month."

"I am ready to sign whenever you are, Ambassador."

My deep voice cut through the room.

All five heads snapped up at the exact same time.

Fiona’s bright smile instantly vanished. Her eyes widened in absolute shock as she stared at me standing in the doorway.

Julian sat up straight, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he recognized me from the night before. "You again? How did you get in here, mate? Security!"

"Don't bother," I said calmly, walking straight up to the table. I looked down at the tablet, then looked directly into Fiona’s terrified eyes.

I pulled out the empty chair right next to her and sat down smoothly.

"Good morning, Fiona," I said, offering her a dark smile. "I believe you need my signature. After all, I just bought all of your schools."