Billionaire's Little Kitten

♠️Nile♠️

"Please, wake up, Mr. Garres."

I am back in that dream again. That nightmare where I am groveling on my knees, crying and being the very essence of what it means to be pathetic. For years the image is still burned clearly into my brain. My willpower is too strong when I am awake for it to show itself.

So it only lurks in my dreams. A recollection of the lowest point in my life.

"Mr. Garres...?"

The voice finally wakes me up, and I pry one eye half open to see the woman on my bed, tapping my arm. I groan in irritation, holding one hand above my eyes to block out the light.

"What do you want?" I ask.

"Your phone has been ringing nonstop for a while now, sir." Her voice answers timidly. "With your permission, can I please bring it to you?"

I am tempted to promptly go back to sleep, when I realize I have never seen this particular woman before. I open my eyes fully to stare at her for a full moment.

"Who are you?" I finally ask.

She blushes, suddenly lowering her eyes and fiddling with her dress. The dress was actually lingerie. "I am Lily. Number eight in your harem, sir. It is my fault that you don't remember me, I am sorry, I was brought in late when you already had a few glasses of alcohol. The other girls told me about the rules, and I have not broken any of them."

Casting a lazy glance across the master bedroom, I find it empty, meaning the girls had scurried out of sight, because I never like to see any one of them when I wake up.

I push up from the bed, and lean closer to Lily. Her eyes widen, struggling to stay on my face. "Do you truly know the rules? If you really do, your pathetic self will not still be crawling around on my bed."

She gasps in true terror, tears gathering in her eyes, "I'm sorry, sir. Please don't be mad at me, I beg of you. I really had no idea I was supposed to leave before you wake up."

"Get lost."

She nods, "Thank you for giving me permission to leave, Mr. Gares." She staggers out of the bed and practically runs out of the bedroom.

I close my eyes and drag in a deep breath. I must have been dead drunk last night if I ordered for another girl without even knowing it. My phone begins to ring from the couch, and I slowly uncurl my body out of bed.

I answer the call, "There better be a reason why you're pestering me so early in the morning."

It should be noon by now, but whenever I say is morning, morning it is. The voice on the other end of the call is my head of security. And he sounds distraught.

"Boss, the trillion dollar asteroid diamond piece has been stolen."

I go still immediately, but a second later, my eyes narrow. That is the latest and rarest piece of gem in my possession, and every last business magnate or oil tycoon were clamoring to buy it. But I have no intention of selling it.

The best always belongs to me. And only me. I can only rub ut in the public's noses, do publicity stunts to make them thirst and hunger, but in the end, a diamond found on a fallen asteroid is only meant for the elite of the elite and that is me.

Now, I hear it is stolen.

I let out a cool exhale, and continue, "Mike. Are you ready to spend the rest of your life, and ruin your wife and your kids' lives in the process of paying the price of your carelessness?"

I never yell at my security. That is for lesser men. Besides, a cool, calculated approach to their stupidity is bound to bring better results.

He sounds choked, "Absolutely not, sir! We have our men combing the area and searching for the thief the moment it was stolen, sir!" A gulp, then he continues, "I just wanted to know, sir, if you want us to involve the police."

"No." I say almost too quickly. "No police. I give you an hour to find the thief. Don't make me call you first."

"Yes, sir-"

I hang up and fling my phone away. Making my way into the jacuzzi, I brush my hair out of my face and lean into the warm water. I usually get the police to handle cases of stealing, but now, that is not an option.

My younger sister, despite my warnings, got herself mixed up with the wrong crowd and hard drugs were found in her possession. Of course, the drugs were planted. I was able to bribe off the officers that caught her, and seal their mouths with money, but I can not have any more police around until her case completely dies down.

So, I have to handle this petty thief myself now.

It already sounds like a chore, as I have a million better things to spend my time on. My gaze hardened against the wall. This culprit who had the audacity to steal from me, will regret being a complete waste of my time.

In thirty minutes, my phone rings again, and it is Mike, informing me that the thief has been caught. Without waiting for another word, I get dressed and head down to my garage where the driver is already waiting to take me to the security headquarters. That is where my security has the thief locked up.

On getting there, Mike is dutifully holding a security case.

"The jewel has been secured, sir." He said.

I open the case, and the shiny and unique diamond stone sits in the middle of some red velvet, beautiful as ever. I nod and close the case, asking,

"Where is the thief?"

He swallowed slightly, "S-she's in the steel room, sir."

My eyes snap back to him. "She?"

He looks more uncomfortable than usual for some reason as he explains, "The thief is a woman, sir."

He guides me into the steel room, which already has a three men lining the walls. I give them a bored look, shoving my hands in my pockets. The sight of them, combined with the cold color of the walls maked being here feel like such a chore. However, once my eyes rests on feminine figure cuffed to a chair, things start to feel a bit more interesting.

She is a wild redhead, with fiery locks that currently look like a bird's nest on her head. Her eyes are green, but filled with the fierceness of a cornered and guilty animal. The stark lights of the steel room makes the tiny freckles on her nose more visible. Her clothes are rough from trying to escape my men, and her wrists are bound to the chair with metal cuffs.

"So you are the snobbish leader of these pricks? They have the guts to manhandle a woman?" She spits straight at me.

"The same way you have the guts to steal from me?"

"What's so special about stealing from you? Who even are you?" She scoffs.

The fact that she appears not to know me is insulting. I usually don't have to introduce myself in gatherings, because I am automatically recognized and respected. To be fair, the type of gatherings I attend do not have insolent criminals like her in attendance.

I take a step forward, "Why don't we start with you telling me your name? You deserve that for being such an impressive criminal. My security is really tight, so you must have good skills and experience to be able to steal something of mine for thirty minutes. That's a long time."

She glares, "You rich people, all so arrogant. My name is Dymond, so can we move on now? Why are you prolonging this? Aren't you going to send me to jail yet?"

I straighten up, and motion at Mike. He steps forward, saying,

"Her full name is Dymond Hilary. Graduated from LilyField College two years ago. Had a job at McDonald's up until six months ago. An apartment registered under her name is located in the next city, but she has not been there for the past six months."

I watch her eyes widen with a sardonic smirk.

"How-?" She chokes.

I let out a small sigh, "Now I see why you're so oblivious to who I am. If you knew you would not dare come two feet within anything that's mine. So you're from the next city. Care to tell me why you left your job and apartment to come here? And become a pathetic little thief?"

She flinches slightly, but recovers quickly. Her chin juts out as she responds, "Are you so dumb that you don't know the answer to your own question? I steal because it pays better. I could have gotten a pretty good price for that piece of shit diamond of yours."

I still at the direct insult, and feel my men freeze as well.

The feeling is foreign, as it has been a very long time since anyone dared to say anything slightly offensive in my direction. A cold simmer of anger boils through my veins, but I realize I don't completely hate it.

The one thing I hate though, is having my men watch this little girl insult me.

"Get out." I say flatly, without breaking my gaze on her.

They understand the command faster than lightning and all exit the room. The steel door closes, leaving me all alone with the redhead thief. She is scared, even if she absolutely refuses to willingly show it.

I can see it in the dilation of her pupils, the slight quivers of her lips, and the helplessness in her shoulders. In one crazy second, I actually feel bad for her. In the next second, however, a hateful smirk is curving my lips.

"We are alone, now. Why don't you repeat what you just said, if you really dare?" I say.

She stares at me, chest heaving with her nervous breaths, but she says nothing.

"I thought so." I say. "Before I decide on how to make you pay for your crimes, I will like a few questions answered. Mike did not mention any apartment registered under your name in this city, neither did he mention a job. Meaning you are likely homeless, and jobless."

I tilt my head a fraction, "So is this what you do to survive? Stealing? Why? What reduced you to this, Dymond?"

"Don't use my name!" She says with a quivering voice.

I know I have gotten into her head at this point. But at the same time, it feels like I am the one being trapped by my own curiosity.

"Answer my question." I say in a harder tone.

The room goes even quieter, with nothing but her breaths breaking the silence. A few seconds pass and she still does not say anything. It frustrates me, and that is when I realize that I am dead intent on knowing her full story.

That realization triggers a deeply buried anger that I feel towards myself, and I straighten up, clenching my jaw hard. I had no time to play around with some criminal. The fact that I had briefly let myself go made me even angrier and hateful towards her.

"I will let you go free, only if you beg for mercy." I say, my sadistic urge to watch people beg taking over me.

She looks at me like I am a demon, then she glares at me with determination. "I will never beg!"

Her response makes a dangerous kind of rage suddenly fill me, and I know I have to leave this room before I completely lose it. I have made people grovel on their knees before me, begging and pleading. I get a kick out of it.

It makes me feel better about myself, now I can't even get that from this pathetic thief.

"Rot in here, then." I say venomously, swivel on my feet and storm out of the door.

♣️ Dymond ♣️

Three days in this "cell" is enough to send my mind to the verge of crumbling into insanity. It is cold in here, the walls are impersonal. And the stares of the security men do not make it better. The entire situation still feels like a whirlwind to me.

I was broke, hungry and desperate. And all I did was steal a piece of jewelry, just like I have done countless times in the past six months. But I have learned during my stay in here, that the diamond I stole belongs to a very powerful, ruthless and wealthy billionaire, Nile Garres.

I had thought the diamond was a regular one, until I heard one of the guards saying it was mined from an asteroid. Well, I finally messed up. How was I to know, anyway? It looks just like a normal diamond, only bigger and shinier.

Actually, it felt really heavy in my pockets as well, in the thirty minutes when it was in my possession before I got captured. But after meeting their employer, I am not one bit sorry for stealing from him. The guy is unbelievably arrogant and entitled.

I have to beg for my freedom?

Why does he not just throw me in jail? Maybe that would have been to my benefit, anyway. Because it seems only prison can save me from my miserable life.

I shift my wrists against the cuffs, but not too hard, so I do not bruise myself. Since I got locked in here, the guards only bring in food and watch me eat, thrice a day. The same food, every time. I realize now that it is some type of punishment technique. A female guard takes me to a bathroom to ease myself at intervals, but never let me take a shower.

So I am currently sitting in a cold metal chair, wearing the same dress and underwear for three days, and going mad from the silence.

The door suddenly opens, and the head security guard called Mike walks in holding some keys.

"Mr. Garres has ordered your release." He says monotonously, unlocking the cuffs around my wrists.

I am speechless with shock, watching his movements with wide eyes. That arrogant boss of theirs really told him to let me go? Suspicion slithers into my mind and I back further into my chair, shaking my head,

"Don't touch me! Are you guys trying to take me somewhere to kill me?"

Mike arches an eyebrow, "Mr. Garres just has no time for petty criminals like you. You being here is more of a nuisance to him than stealing his jewel."

I scoff, incredulous. And above all, in disbelief. Something just seems too fishy about the way he is letting me go just like that.

All of a sudden, I see him slip out a white towel from inside his inner pocket. My eyes widen in recognition and I try to lunge away from him. He is unfortunately too fast. One big arm locks around my shoulders and upper arms, completely immobilizing me.

I struggle and try to scream, but his hand presses the towel against my mouth and nose, cutting my scream off.

A foul chemical makes its way into my airways almost instantly, and my struggle immediately grow sluggish. My eyelids droop without my consent, and I am still trying to scream when I completely go unconscious.

The rocking of a vehicle rouses me out of my drug induced slumber, and I blink sluggishly, looking around slowly. All of that grogginess snaps off when I see two men in suits on either side of me, in the backseat. And Mike is driving.

"Where are you taking me?! This is illegal!" I scream anxiously. "How dare you drug me?!"

Something about my words seem to be amusing to them, as I catch grins and smirks appearing on their faces. Mike swerves sharply into a rowdy street, and stops the car.

"Now." He says.

I am confused, until one of the guards at my sides opens his seat door and steps out, yanking me out along with him. He pushes me towards the streets and gets back in, slamming the door shut. Just like that, the car sped off. I am standing in the asphalt dust, staring after them, completely stunned.

I am free?

They just let me go?

I am not sure what is actually happening, but I will not wait for the to change their mind and come back to recapture me. Hurriedly, I turn away from the spot and try my best to blend in with the crowd. The night life seems to be at its peak, with streetlights, roadside stalls selling street food, and young people laughing and making videos of themselves having a good time.

That life is nothing like mine.

I push myself to move forward, not sure where I am headed, but I just have to make sure I don't leave a trail. I am experienced in hiding myself when I don't want to be found, so it is pretty easy for me to do this.

I did spend the last six months on the run, after all.

After what seems like an hour, I am breathing hard and in a completely different area. It is still crowdy, with noise and laughter, and that is perfect. But that does not stop fear from filling my veins because I know that soon, the streets will get more deserted and more dangerous for a woman to be roaming about all alone.

I have no money, no shelter for the night, and desperate clawed at me.

Out of habit, I find myself looking over my shoulder too many times as I came up with a plan to steal some wallets from random people in the crowd. I could make a few dollars to help me get off the streets for the night, at least.

I am so invested in my thoughts that some group of girls bump into me, and I get shoved sideways.

"Watch where you're going, homeless freak!" One of them snaps at me, and the rest giggle, simultaneously shooting me dirty looks as they walk past.

I am about to remind them that they bumped into me, when I register what she called me. Homeless freak.

For the first time, I remember what I must look like to them. Dirty clothes, ruffled hair that has not been washed or brushed in three days. I basically look homeless. Still, their words sting, and I protectively place my hands around myself as if to hide my appearance.

My fingers feel something strange within the fabrics of my dress. Thin, stiff, like thick paper. That is the spot where my hidden pocket is.

I quickly shove my hand in and pull out the strange object. It is an envelope. I frown, because I do not remember putting this in there. The only thing I had placed there is the stolen diamond, and the guards quickly found it and took it away.

I pause. Could Mike have put this in my pocket while I was knocked out?

I turn the envelope over, and see the initials N.G printed at the edge. Nile Garres. For some reason, my heart begins to race. I tear the envelope open and peer inside. What meets my eyes makes my jaw drop, because I have never seen a wad of cash this crisp, and huge for a very long time.

It is money.

Why will someone I stole from let me go scot free, and still give me money?

It makes no sense, but I do not need it to make sense, because I am already moving down the street, towards the nearest hotel. I ignore the stares following me as I walk up to the reception and ask for a room for the night.

"Of course, Miss. Please wait in the reception for a moment while we prepare a room for you." The receptionist smiles, trying not to stare at my disheveled state.

I nod, and turn around. Instead of going to sit on one of the couches, I cross over to the other door that led to some type of restaurant. I fill my belly with a hearty meal, and go back to the reception afterwards.

When I am finally taken to my room, I lock the door and move to shut all the windows and blinds. I usually do not take rooms on the first floor, for safety reasons, but now I do not have much of a choice as there were barely any other rooms available.

After I am sure my room is secure, I move into the bathroom to take a very long, and deeply relaxing bath. With my freshly washed hair wrapped in a towel, and my body wrapped in a bath robe, I step back into the bedroom.

The tiredness from the craziness of the past few days is finally catching up to me, and my bones sag in my own flesh as I stumble to the soft bed. All my body wants is sleep, but I know I will never sleep peacefully unless I make out my plans for tomorrow.

I can not stay in this hotel, or any hotel, longer than one night. Staying here is already a high risk, tomorrow, with the rest of the money, I have to head to the outskirts of the city. There I can spend a few days before I have to move again.

Thinking so hard, even while tired must have caused me to doze off, because the shrill sound of the telephone ringing suddenly jolts me awake.

I stifle my gasp, then reach for the telephone, wondering why the hotel staff would be calling by this time.

"Hello?"

"Miss, you are entitled to a limited spa offer, courtesy of the hotel. I was wondering if you would like a late night spa session, all for free?" The receptionist's voice comes in.

I sigh softly, "No, thank you."

"Alright, Miss. Have a good night."

The call ends, and I sink back into the bed, deciding it is better to get a good night rest so I can be more alert tomorrow. Pulling the sheets over my body, I snuggle into the pillows and slid my eyes closed.

But in the last split second, I catch something from the corner of my eye. My eyebrows furrow, and I move my eyes around, trying to figure out if I had really seen a tiny red light. I slowly sit up on the bed, stomach churning.

I have the habit of thinking I have seen things that could threaten my safety, even when I might be in a secure place. I do not blame myself, because that habit was born out of paranoia and trauma.

I have every reason to be paranoid.

But now, I am sure I had caught a glimpse of a tiny red dot from the light in the middle of the ceiling. Looking at it now, I can not see anything unusual. I shiver, realizing that I had forgotten to do my routine checks in any room I sleep in.

When I stepped into this hotel room, I only locked the doors and windows. I did not check for anything strange.

That is a big mistake. Now, I regret being that careless.

With a gulp, I reach for the light switch on the wall beside my bed, and turn the lights off. I narrow my eyes and watch the lamp on the ceiling more closely. And it is right there.

A tiny red dot of light, coming from deep within the lamp. It is staring back at me.

My heart thunders, as a deathly cold run over my entire limbs. It is a camera. There is a camera right inside that light bulb, silently watching every single one of my movements. It has been there, from the moment I stepped into this room.

The terror that seizes me, as I stare at the red dot in the darkness, is one of its kind.

♣️ Dymond ♣️

I have no idea how long I spent frozen in space with terror, just watching the camera with wide eyes, but I am jolted out of my stupor when the telephone begins to ring again.

I jump in shock, heart nearly tearing out of my chest. Panting, I reach for the telephone, not daring to take my eyes off the camera for even one second, as if it could magically disappear if I look away. Pressing the phone to my ear, I start to speak frantically,

"Is this the reception? Thank goodness you called, I just found a-"

"Yeah I know, baby. You're looking straight at the camera. Straight at me." A male voice interrupted on the other end of the call, shocking the life out of me. Worse, because I instantly recognized the voice. The soundtrack of my nightmares and misery.

I yelp, nearly throwing the telephone as far away as possible as if it is on fire, but his voice freezes me in place.

"Don't you dare hang up on me, bitch." He yelled, then his voice suddenly softened into a sickening sweet tone. "Don't make me yell at you, baby. You know I hate doing that. I surprised you did not notice the camera until now, your safety skills must really be slacking."

His voice dissolves into a sadistic and creepy chuckle that made every single hair at the back of my neck rise straight.

I begin to tremble, staring back at the camera. My mind is swirling, unable to form a coherent thought. He found me. The man I have been running away from, all this time, no matter how hard I try, he always finds me.

"When I did not see you step out of that security building, I had thought that bastard rich dude would throw you in jail." He continues leisurely, like he is talking to a very good friend. "If he had sent you to prison, I would have changed my gender and committed a crime so I would be thrown into a women's prison as well. That way you will not be able to run away from me anymore."

I shudder, tears gathering in my eyes. I choke, "D-did you plant this camera? How did you know I'll be in this exact room?"

It is hopeless to even wonder how he nearly always finds me. No matter how far I run, or how long I hide, he is always somewhere close. But this is the first time he has planted a camera in a room I was staying in.

He finds my terrified question funny, and barked out a creepy laugh.

"Yes, baby. I will do anything for you, my love. You know that. I love you too much to stay away from you. And yes, I planted that camera while you were eating in the restaurant." He suddenly giggles. "I could have stayed under the bed, you know, and waited for you to come in and lock the door before revealing myself. It would have been so fun, right?

"You and me, all alone in that room. But I decided to leave you alone just for this night, after all, you were so exhausted from getting captured by those men. I am content with watching you through this camera, just for tonight."

His voice has an ominous tone to it, and I nearly die right there from fright. I look up at the camera, whimpering, "Y-you can see me...right now?"

"Of course." He answers cruelly. "Your hair is damp, wrapped in that white towel. Your beautiful, delicious naked body is wrapped in that robe as well. And I love the fear in your eyes as you stare at the camera."

I could never wish this on anyone. The sheer despair. The feeling of always being watched. Of always being in danger. Of always having an insane, dangerous stalker following you everywhere you run.

He could kill me. I know he wishes to kill me for breaking up with him, but he keeps playing with me, tormenting my life, making misery and fear my second name. He wants me to suffer, just like I have ever since I met him.

He wants me to suffer, till he finally murders me in cold blood. And tonight, he had come so close. He had been in this very room I am currently sitting in.

"Why won't you let me be?" I cry, then I raise my voice in pure agony, "Leave me alone, please! I don't want to be with you, anymore! Stop making my life miserable!"

"Shut up, and don't make me angry, Dymond."

"I'm tired of you threatening me and acting like you own my life!" I scream.

"What are you going to do about it, bitch? Why don't you try telling the police like you did before?" He sneers, "Listen, I own you. I own your life, and since you refuse to stay where you rightfully belong, I will kill you."

"Go to hell, you monster!" I sob, scared out of my mind. The red glow of the camera suddenly seems a little too much like his eyes.

Unhinged. Cold. Murderous.

"Now, my love, I want you to calm down." He says. "Don't you dare end this call, or I might change my mind and come into your room again. This time, nothing will be able to save you."

A chill runs down my spine, just as cold tears race down my cheeks.

"Get up from the bed, and walk to the window. The telephone is close to the window, so you will have no problem. Now get up, and do as I say."

For a moment, I hesitate, but remember that I had locked the windows, so I am still relatively safe. Trembling like a dead leaf in a storm, I get out of bed and slowly walk to the window. My heart sounds like a earthquake in my chest.

"Good girl. Now, open the blinds." He instructs.

It is a bad idea, but I have no choice. With shaky fingers, I hold the blinds and pull it open. My room is dim since I had turned off the lights to see the camera, so it means I can also see outside my window clearly.

And the sight that meets my eyes the moment I pull the blinds open, triggers a blood curdling scream that tore tight out of my throat.

He is right there. Standing right outside my window, his hand against the glass, and a phone on his hand. His face is something so gruesome, so fear inflicting, so filled with lunacy that I almost passed out. He is grinning madly, as our eyes meet through the glass.

"Surprise!" His lips say, and it is a picture of raw horror.

The telephone slips from my hand and clatters to the floor as I back away. I cannot stop screaming. Hearing his voice, and knowing he is watching me, is different from seeing him face to face, with only a thin sheet of glass between us.

He can so easily murder me right now.

I stumble away from the window, stumbling to the floor a few times. My screams must be pretty loud because all of a sudden, my door swings open and a couple of hotel staff members hurry in. Before I register who they are, I instinctively get frightened, ready to defend myself,

"How did you get in?! How did you get in-?!"

Someone turned on the full lights in the room.

"Miss! Are you alright?! We heard screams from in here..."

"We came in with the master key card, it's okay. Please, tell us what's wrong..."

I am still panicking, pointing at the window. Two men hurry over to the windows and drew the blinds, peering outside. They could not find anything amiss. My heart is racing so fast that I am on the verge of a panic attack.

They turn back to me, "The windows are locked, and there's nothing strange out there. What exactly did you see, Miss?"

A woman places a hand on my shoulder, softly trying to calm me down. "I get it, you were startled. If only you can tell us what the problem is, we will fix it immediately. We do not currently have a spare room, or I could have suggested switching rooms just to calm you down."

I try to regulate my breathing, staring at each of them with distrust. If my ex boyfriend had been able to get into this room, then one of the staff could have helped him, right? I am not sure of my suspicions, but I can not trust any of these people.

Besides, they will think I am crazy if I mention that someone was right outside my window.

It is not the first time people labelled me as crazy when I tried to get help in the past. So I just clear my throat and wipe the tears on my face.

"There is a camera in the ceiling lamp." I say tiredly. "I have a bad case of paranoia, so when I realized the camera was there, it triggered my panic attack and I could not stop screaming."

I do not mention anything else.

They all look shocked, exclaiming and looking at each other as if trying to find explanations on how the camera got in there. They begin to apologize profusely, as one of the men moved to remove the lamp from the ceiling, removing the camera along with it.

They keep asking me if they can make up for this inconvenience somehow, but I manage to get them out of the room and lock the door again. The windows are locked, the lights are all on, and the camera is gone.

In a bout of paranoia, I move to disconnect the telephone before it starts ringing again.

I still do not feel safe, because the staff are in possession of the master key card, meaning that creep can still get into my room as easily and silently as possible. So I move into the bathroom, and lock the door. It has a manual lock, so no one can get it open, but me.

It is uncomfortable, but I lower myself against the door and pull my knees to my chest. There is no use trying to sleep, because I know my eyes will refuse to close tonight. Not because of I'm hiding on the cold tiles of the bathroom, but because there's someone lurking out there, trying to kill me.

When it is dawn, and the night sky has turned a dark blue, I get up from my spot on the floor and hurry out of my robe.

The only clothes I have to wear, is my dirty dress and worn sneakers, but I slip them on without wasting time. I cannot waste precious time on brushing my hair, so I roll it into an haphazard bun and move out of the bathroom.

I am going to get out of this city right now. Not even to the outskirts of the city, but to another city, even if it is in another state, I do not care. I have to get as far away from here as possible. It is so early that most people will not be awake, so before my stalker will realize I'm gone, I will be on a train to another city entirely.

With a pounding heart, I open the drawer where in had kept the envelope of cash, relieved that it had not somehow disappeared while I was hiding in the bathroom.

As I stuff it deep into my pockets, I find myself looking around the room, as if someone was lurking in the corners, watching me and waiting to pounce.

With a big exhale, I open the door and stare through the hallway before sneaking out. As I silently make my way out of the hotel, a random feeling of gratefulness filled me. I can not imagine how I could afford to leave the city urgently if Nile Garres had not kept that wad of cash in my dress.