The Billionaire 365 Days Contract Bride

Chapter 6: The Spy

Mrs. Gable scoffed, completely taken aback by her remarks. Did this street rat just call her a mop? And who the hell was Mrs. Sterling? Her?! Since when did Mr. Sterling get married without her knowing? She had been working here for the past seven years, and she had never seen any woman come in here except Vivienne, Mr. Sterling's ex-fiancée.

One of the younger maids quickly rushed over to Ciara and took the bag from her hands, breaking the tense staring contest between Mrs. Gable and Ciara.

"I will show you to your room, Mrs. Sterling. Please follow me."

"I hope we're both talking about my husband's room here, miss?" Ciara replied, raising an eyebrow.

The young maid gulped nervously and looked over at Mrs. Gable for permission. Ciara snapped her fingers to get the maid's attention.

"Over here, miss. No looking at the mops."

Ciara threw one last victorious glare at Mrs. Gable, whose mouth was left completely wide open in shock, before she happily followed the maid up the stairs.

An hour later, Ciara was quietly walking through the massive penthouse to find the guest restroom. As she passed Alexandier's private study, she noticed the heavy mahogany door was slightly open. From inside the room, a hurried, quiet whispering caught her attention.

Ciara pressed her back against the wall, listening carefully.

"...Yes, Mr. Julian," Mrs. Gable’s voice hissed from inside the room. She was quietly sliding Alexandier's desk drawers open and closed. "I am inside his study right now. I have looked everywhere if I could find sir Alexandier's grandfather's inheritance papers, but he keeps his files locked up tightly. I haven't found the document yet, but I promise to do a thorough search and bring it over to you by the end of the day."

Ciara’s blood ran cold. Julian's spy. So Mrs. Gable was a spy. That explained her nasty attitude.

"Good. Don't fail me," Julian’s sharp voice murmured back through the phone line. "What about the girl? Did she arrive?"

"Yes, she just got here," Mrs. Gable sneered, looking toward the hallway. "She brought one tiny suitcase. She looks completely ordinary, like a street rat. I haven't had the chance to look through her things yet."

"Forget the desk for a second, Gable," Julian ordered strictly over the phone. "Go search that girl's bag immediately. Find out who she is. See if she has any legal documents, contracts, or background info we can use to destroy this marriage. If she's a gold-digger, she has a paper trail. Find it."

"Right away, sir. I'll sneak into her room now—"

Ciara didn't wait for the woman to hang up. She didn't cry, and she didn't run to call Alexandier like a victim.

Instead, she kicked the heavy mahogany door wide open. The door slammed against the wall with a deafening c***k. Mrs. Gable shrieked in terror, dropping her phone onto Alexandier’s glass desk.

"What are you looking for, Mrs. Mop?" Ciara asked, her voice dangerously calm as she walked forward with slow, calculated steps. She snatched the phone off the desk before Mrs Gable could grab it.

"Give that back, you insolent b***h!" Mrs. Gable snarled, her professional act completely dropping as she lunged at Ciara.

Ciara stepped to the side easily, her sharp eyes scanning the phone screen. The call with Julian was still active. Ciara tapped the speakerphone icon and raised her voice so it echoed through the entire study.

"Hey, Julian," Ciara said smoothly into the microphone. "Your spy has terrible taste in hiding spots. Tell your lawyers to get ready, because soon we'll be meeting for the corporate audit. I’m going to make sure the board knows exactly which cousin is funding corporate espionage inside the CEO's private home."

"H-how... how..." he stammered. "Why you street-rat w***e—" Julian’s furious voice roared through the speaker before Ciara ruthlessly tapped the red button, cutting him off.

For the first time, Mrs. Gable was trembling with rage, her face turning a deep, ugly purple. But she straightened her back and cleared her throat, trying to regain her pride. "You think anyone will believe you? I am the head of this household! I have served the Sterling family for decade! I have served Sir Alexandier for seven years! You are nothing but a gold-digging w***e Alexandier dragged out of the gutter!"

"A gutter with excellent phone reception, apparently," Ciara shot back, her mouth curling into a razor-like smirk. She stepped closer to the older woman, her gaze so fierce and unyielding that the housekeeper actually took a step back. "Here’s how this is going to play out, Mrs. Gable. You have exactly ten minutes. You are going to get down on your hands and knees, and you are going to scrub every single inch of this study floor until I can see my reflection in it."

"I will do no such thing!"

"Then I will press send on this audio recording and send it directly to the police and to Alexandier. Mind you, I've been recording this entire conversation on my own phone from the hallway. So, which do you prefer? Spending the next five to ten years scrubbing prison floors for grand larceny and corporate espionage, or scrubbing this floor?" Ciara delivered the ultimatum with flawless, biting authority. "The clock is ticking, Barbie’s grandma. Start scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing," she sang playfully.

Terrified of going to jail and destroying her life, Mrs. Gable’s knees literally buckled. Sobbing in absolute humiliation, the proud, snobbish housekeeper dropped to her knees, grabbed a cleaning cloth from her apron, and began desperately wiping the dark floor.

Ciara leaned against the edge of the desk, crossing her arms. She watched the satisfying display of justice with a cold, victorious smile.

"Now that's how Mrs. Sterling deals with Mops," she whispered to herself.

"Rule number one: Never let any Mop look down on a Vance," she whispered to herself.

Several hours had passed. The afternoon sun had shifted, casting long shadows across the study. The marble floor gleamed from being scrubbed over and over again. Mrs. Gable's knees were raw, her arms trembled with exhaustion, and sweat soaked through her uniform. Every push of the cloth grew slower than the last, but she didn't dare stop.

Throughout the afternoon, Ciara wandered in and out of the study, returning every so often to inspect Mrs. Gable's progress. Satisfied with what she saw, she leaned against the edge of the desk, crossing her arms.

"Are you thirsty, Mrs. Gable? There's a fridge over there. I can get you some water. I'm not that cruel."

Mrs. Gable glared at her so fiercely that Ciara instinctively took a step back, raising both hands in surrender.

The heavy front doors of the penthouse opened. Deep, commanding footsteps echoed down the hallway

Alexandier Sterling walked into the study. The billionaire froze in the doorway, his massive, imposing frame completely filling the space. He had taken off his suit jacket. His white dress shirt stretched tight across his broad shoulders, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms. His slate-grey eyes darted from the crying head housekeeper on her knees to Ciara, who was casually tossing Mrs. Gable’s phone in her hand like a baseball.

What is the meaning of this?" Alexandier demanded, his deep, gravelly baritone vibrating through the room with absolute, terrifying power.

"Sir! Master Alexandier, please save me!" Mrs. Gable wailed from the floor, pointing a trembling finger at Ciara. "This crazy woman attacked me! She’s trying to frame me! She’s threatening to ruin the family name!"

Alexandier didn't look at Mrs. Gable. His piercing, calculated gaze locked onto Ciara, demanding an explanation with the sheer weight of his presence.

Ciara didn't falter under his intimidating glare. She tossed the phone onto the desk right in front of him.

"Your cousin’s payroll must be excellent, Mr. Sterling," Ciara said wittily, raising an eyebrow. "Because your loyal head housekeeper was just caught searching your study for inheritance documents to send to Julian. She was also ordered to search for our contract papers in my bag to sabotage your corporate audit. I told her if she didn't clean up her mess, I’d have her arrested. I believe the floor is almost done. Until you came in."

Alexandier’s expression transformed into something truly demonic. The temperature in the room plummeted to sub-zero.

"Do you have proof?"

"Definitely," Ciara nodded. She pointed to the phone on the desk. Alexandier picked it up, checked the active call log, and looked down at Mrs. Gable.

"Marcus," Alexandier spoke into his earpiece, his voice dangerously quiet, radiating a lethal promise.

"Sir?" Marcus appeared in the doorway seconds later.

"Take Mrs. Gable to the private security office downstairs," Alexandier commanded, his voice dripping with pure frost. "Ensure her bank assets are frozen before tomorrow morning, and file the federal non-disclosure breach lawsuits immediately. I want her blacklisted from every estate in the hemisphere."

"Right away, sir." Marcus gripped Mrs. Gable’s arm, dragging the sobbing, broken woman out of the study.

The heavy doors clicked shut. The penthouse fell into a dead, high-voltage silence.

Alexandier slowly turned his massive body toward Ciara. He walked up to her, his steps slow, deliberate, and entirely dominant, until he was towering right over her, trapping her against the edge of his desk. The intoxicating scent of his cedarwood cologne and raw masculinity washed over her, making her heart race.

He reached out, his large, warm hand gripping her chin with a firm, possessive hold, forcing her to look up into his fierce silver eyes.

"You handled that remarkably well, Ciara," Alexandier murmured, his thumb lightly brushing her lower lip, breaking his own 'no-touching' rule yet again. "Most women would have cried and waited for me to save them. I must confess, I'm impressed."

Ciara smirked, despite the electric sparks running through her veins from his touch. "I'm no princess, so I don't wait for princes, Mr. Sterling. I handle my own trash." She then slapped his hand away from her chin.

"No touching unless necessary. Remember?"

Alexandier let out a low, dark chuckle that vibrated deep in his chest. His eyes darkened with an intense, all-consuming heat. "Good. I remember. Get your armor ready, because the wolves you’re meeting tonight will make Mrs. Gable look like a saint."

Ciara’s smirk faltered slightly. "Tonight?"

Alexandier hummed. "I'll make sure the maids pack a formal dinner dress for you, sweetheart." Alexandier leaned down until his lips were mere inches from hers. "We're going to my family estate. It's time to introduce my fake fiancée to the rest of the sharks."