FAKE DATING WITH BENEFITS MY BILLIONAIRE BOSS (Ophelia Corrigan) novel Chapter 215

CHAPTER 215

CAT 89

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– CHLOE

I should’ve been asleep.

Instead, I was hiding in the hallway, watching that ridiculous little scene like some background extra expected to applaud the leads for getting their happy ending.

Simon was carrying Jamie up the stairs. She was giggling into his neck, while the most desirable man I’d ever met looked perfectly content to serve as his wife’s personal chauffeur.

How touching.

“You’re going to drop me,” Jamie whispered.

“Not a fucking chance,” he said, holding her tighter.

I pressed myself farther behind the wall.

He passed close enough for me to catch the masculine scent of his cologne. He didn’t so much as glance down the hallway. Simon only had eyes for that bland little wife of his.

I waited until their bedroom door closed upstairs. Then I let out the breath I’d been holding.

Their reconciliation was inconvenient. I’d been counting on a few days of silence, resentment, and distance. Jamie had every reason to hate her husband after the stunt he’d pulled at the office. Any woman with a shred of pride would’ve made him suffer a hell of a lot longer.

But no. Apparently all he had to do was flex those arms and apologize.

Back in my room, I picked up my phone and opened the feed from the hidden camera in their suite. Simon was laying Jamie on the bed. They exchanged a few words the microphone didn’t pick up clearly, and then he leaned down to kiss her.

I closed the app.

Jealousy wasn’t the only problem. I needed Jamie shaken, suspicious, too distracted to notice what was happening around her. And Simon needed to start associating her name with problems, not solutions.

One complaint. Then another. Sick customers. Headlines. Lawyers. Furious shareholders. Hart’s reputation unraveling in public.

I remembered perfectly the first time Annie told me she couldn’t follow through with our arrangement.

Coward.

She’d always been that way. Great at whining about her life, useless when it came to doing what needed to be done. I’d had to remind her how much she owed me, and exactly who might find out the family secrets she was so desperate to keep buried.

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10:04 Fri, Oct 23

FAKE DATING WITH BENEFITS: MY BILLIONAIRE BOSS

CA 89

55 vouchers

The visit to Rosa Alvarez had been bothering me ever since I’d overheard the conversation through the camera. Rosa might not know everything, but she knew names, faces, stories I’d spent years trying to leave behind.

I couldn’t let anyone put those pieces together.

I checked the time. It was after two thirty.

The house was quiet. Sylvia wouldn’t be back until morning. Being invisible came easily when everyone believed you were some poor, grateful woman lucky to have been taken in.

I slipped on my slippers, pulled a robe over my nightgown, and stepped out.

I took the back staircase without turning on the lights, stopping twice to listen. Nothing but the distant hum of the air conditioning.

Jamie’s office was on the second floor, away from the bedrooms. She usually locked the door when she worked, but tonight it was barely pulled shut.

Careless, sweetheart.

I went inside and eased the door closed.

Streetlight cast a pale strip across the desk. Folders were stacked everywhere, pens lay scattered beside an empty coffee cup, and the computer was off.

I sat in her chair.

That woman had an office bigger than the apartment I’d lived in before moving into this house. And she still had the nerve to complain because her billionaire husband wanted to lighten her workload.

I pressed the computer’s power button. The screen lit up and asked for a password.

I tried their wedding date. Nothing. Simon’s name followed by a few numbers. Nothing. Then a combination I’d once watched Jamie enter from behind. Access denied.

A warning appeared: More failed attempts could temporarily lock the system.

“Damn it,” I muttered.

Frustrated, I stood and swept my phone’s flashlight across the desk.

That’s when I saw the notebook.

Thick, dark blue cover. Colored dividers. Dozens of pages flagged with little sticky tabs. It wasn’t a journal. The label on the front read: SUPPORTING MATERIALS: HEARING/OUTSIDE COUNSEL.

I opened it to the first divider.

There were manufacturing timelines, batch numbers, names of quality-control supervisors, and handwritten notes. Several pages referenced digital records, along with questions Jamie intended to send to outside

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10:04 Fri, Oct 23

FAKE DATING WITH BENEFITS: MY BILLIONAIRE BOSS

counsel.

One note was circled in red: Verify discrepancy between batch release and inspection log.

I smiled.

This was better than I’d hoped.

CN89

55 vouchers

Jamie wasn’t just organizing information. She was trying to pinpoint exactly where someone had bypassed the safeguards. If the attorneys got the complete set of notes, they might uncover inconsistencies Annie hadn’t even bothered to cover up.

I flipped to the traceability section. That was where the truly dangerous notes were: timestamps, signatures, internal codes, a list of everyone with access to the production line, and questions about changes made to the records after the fact.

One reference caught my eye.

Annie.

For a moment, I wanted to rip the entire notebook to shreds. That would be stupid. Jamie would notice immediately, and someone would end up checking the house’s security footage.

I had to be subtle.

I removed a few loose sheets tucked into the binding, choosing the ones comparing records and listing discrepancies. Two were already hole-punched and came free easily. The others took a careful tug, leaving tiny tears around the holes.

A noise in the hallway made me freeze.

I switched off the flashlight.

Footsteps. A door closing somewhere in the distance. I stood perfectly still until the house went quiet again.

Then I folded the pages and tucked them inside my robe.

I straightened the dividers, slid the notebook back where I’d found it, and turned off the monitor without touching anything else.

On my way out, I nearly clipped the doorframe.

I retraced my steps downstairs and didn’t breathe normally again until I’d locked my bedroom door.

I spread the pages across the bed.

Some passages were underlined. Others contained questions that should never reach the attorneys. I could photograph everything, work out how much Jamie already knew, and decide which information needed to disappear for good.

My phone vibrated with a message from an unsaved number.

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