Boo For The Billionaire

Chapter 1

Danny

I could barely hold the tray brimming with beer and cocktails above my head. You’d think the club would be empty on a Wednesday night, but not in Lumina, a high-end club for the elites.

Deep thumping music blasted into the smoke-filled area. Despite the strobing lights, I could see the dead eyes of the other waitresses I worked with as I passed by them.

Who could blame them, though, when you work a dead-end job such as this?

“Hey, you okay, Amanda?” I nudged another waitress who seemed to be spacing out.

“Uh-huh,” she responded and proceeded to load her tray with trail mix and mugs of beer.

I just shook my head. She’d come out of it soon.

For the past three months, I’d been wearing the same tight uniform with a pinned name tag with Gabby written on it, though my real name was Daniela Harrison. My day job as a reporter on one of the biggest news outlets in the west, Lifetime News Company. Our network had exposed countless illegal operations on this part of the globe.

Trudging along with the gyrating mass of bodies with a tray in my hand, I’d make sure to get the scoop of a lifetime.

In no time, I’d have a Pulitzer award attached to my name, something I had dreamt of having since I joined the school paper back in grade school.

I was heading into the back room behind the bar when my boss, Nikolai, a burly Russian man, called me.

"Gab, look. It's Jordan Maximo in Sola," he said and pointed in the direction of a man in a powder blue summer suit entering one of our VIP rooms.

I exasperatedly rolled my eyes at him, which was met by a hearty chuckle from my boss. Despite his outward demeanor, Nikolai treated all his employees fairly and had our best interest at heart.

Jordan Maximo was infamous among the wait staff for being extremely handsy, and Nikolai always gave us a heads up before he walked in.

These damn dogs were always trying to get their servers to put out for them. As if all of their money would be enough to erase the memories of the girls, who’d be so foolish to spend a night with despicable old geezers like Maximo.

My heart was racing, but I kept my composure. I’d been waiting for that shady businessman for a week, and luckily, I’d be serving the Sola for the night. The stars had finally aligned, and this could be the night I’d get the big break in the story I’d been working on.

"Oh, for Pete's sake!" I protested as I pushed my pen into my messy bun. I subtly clicked it, not to retract the writing tip but to turn the spy cam on the pen handle.

Evidence, evidence, evidence.

I wouldn’t let this day pass without having any proof.

"Well, it's your lucky night. The big man asked for Amanda." Nikolai shrugged, oblivious to the fact that it wasn't good news for me.

I would have asked Amanda to switch sections with me, but what could I do if the man specifically asked for her?

It wasn't my fucking lucky night at all.

Patience is the key to a successful undercover operation, I thought to myself.

The night would come for me soon.

If I was being honest, this job paid more than my job as a reporter. At least I had this job waiting for me if this writing stint wouldn’t work out.

Well, I was kidding.

No matter how hard I tried sneaking into the VIP room, the entrance was being blocked by Jordan Maximo's bodyguard. I even tried helping Amanda with a batch of drinks, but one of the personal guards grabbed the tray from my hands.

I eventually had to stop, lest they find me.

⃰  ⃰  ⃰

            It was around midnight.

I distracted myself by lugging beer bottles to the dumpsters in the back alley. I was just about to haul the last load of recyclables over to the bin when the back door suddenly slammed open, causing me to drop the bag I was carrying. All of the bottles shattered into pieces.

           Great.

            Nikolai would surely be pissed.

I looked over to the door, ready to shout at the person responsible for the mess that I now needed to clean, but I stopped when I spotted Jordan Maximo with a staggering gait.

What the fuck was he doing here alone? Where were his bodyguards?

Maximo was grunting and groaning as he reached out for something to support his weight.  

“Sir, you can’t be here,” I said calmly as I swiftly swept away the shattered bottles.

He said something, but his voice was a bit unsteady and groggy.

This man was intoxicated by drinking too much alcohol. And heaven knew how many sweaty customers in a drunken stupor I had practically dragged back into the club.

I sighed and went to assist the moron. I just hoped that I wouldn't have to clean up vomit tonight.

Chapter 2

Danny

"Sir, are you alright?" I asked as soon as I got near Jordan Maximo.

I shouted for assistance, but my voice only echoed in the alley.

I looked around. I couldn’t just leave this man alone here.

“Sir, what’s the matter?” I asked again, however, the man continued moaning and groaning. He was so inebriated that he couldn’t hold himself up, so I wrapped my arms around his torso and helped him to his feet to support his full weight.

I expected him to reek and smell, but the coppery scent wafted up to my nose, making me stumble backward. When I could finally take a good look at him, my heart stopped. His powder blue shirt was covered with blood.

I felt a sudden shortness of breath, and my legs wobbled as fear consumed me. My eyes immediately scanned the alley. I had to look twice to make sure it was indeed blood and not my eyes just playing tricks on me.

Maximo tried coming closer, one of his arms was outstretched over me, but I continued to step back until I found myself pressed up against the brick wall. He tripped on his own feet and landed squarely on his buttocks.

“H-help me… P-please…” he said in a slurred voice as he forced himself to move, his eyes struggling to focus.  

“W-who did this?” I stammered. I wanted to move, but my trembling knees hindered me from doing so.

Think, Danny, think.

The police! Yes, the police can help!

With my hands shaking, I took out my phone from my pocket and dialed 911. But before I could even press the call button, Maximo let out a loud whimper. The panic in his sob spread like poison in the small space that we shared.

I raised my head just in time to see a shadow crept across the alley. The figure stalked toward us, and the calmness of his strides was unnerving.

Maximo was still in full cry, asking for his mother, God, and several saints I’d never heard of for help, punctuated with expletives. I could tell he was attempting to stand up by the shuffling sounds beside me, but I kept my eye on the shadow coming toward us.

One meter away from us, the figure lifted his right arm. Light from a passing car caught the object on his hand, and it glinted sharply.

Was that… a gun?

Oh, God!

My knees buckled, and I  slumped on the filthy ground. My heart hammered painfully against my chest, my breath coming in short rasps.

Tonight will be the night that Daniela Harrison will die; in a dirty alleyway with nothing to show for herself.

I wanted to cry, but my eyes had gone dry. I could only tremble in fear.

Suddenly, three consecutive gunshots rang through my ears, and I covered them with my shaky hands.

"You piece of shit!" Maximo spat, his voice cracking but still charged with pure rage.

Realizing that I wasn’t on the receiving end of the gun muzzle, I bravely looked up, resolute on keeping my eyes peeled. My years of training as a journalist kicked in as I took a mental note of every little thing.

The black trench coat and matching Dr. Martens were all I could see of the figure as he stood towering—

Bang!

My eyes widened in horror when I heard another gunshot, which I knew was the kill shot straight to the head, as no more sounds were coming from Maximo. The pool of blood slowly creeping toward me confirmed my suspicion.

I abruptly pulled my right foot closer to me, but my black Mary Janes were already smeared with blood.

This reality came crashing down on me so suddenly that I felt like my world was crumbling.

Knowing the end was coming, I peered closer to the figure’s face, wanting to see the person who would feed me to the worms.

I gasped.

A woman?

The smell of gunpowder and blood overwhelmed me, and it took me a while to recognize the hitman in front of me was a woman.

What?

She seemed amused at my confusion as a sly smile slowly crept up her lips. And then she winked at me, which surprised me as it made a metal clicking sound, only to comprehend a split-second later it was her cocking the gun.

I closed my eyes. 

This is it, Danny. You had a good run.

"Shit!" the woman who held me at gunpoint blurted.

I sneaked a quick peek at her, but all I caught was the tail end of her black trench coat.

A few seconds later, I heard the back door slam open for the second time tonight, followed by heavy footsteps. A dozen guards rushed right to the alley.

I’d been to crime scenes before, but this one was different. A mixture of fear, relief and adrenaline pumped through my veins.

I just witnessed a murder!