The Billionaire's Intern (Maya Thompson) novel Chapter 187

Chapter 90: Promises and Threats 2

Chapter 90: Promises and Threats-2

He stayed still until her laugh echoed faintly through the suite walls. Then, slowly, he turned and stepped inside-smile creeping across his face, totally involuntary, completely hers. All because of her.

Ashcroft stepped inside Damien’s suite just as Damien shut the door behind them, turning the lock with a sharp click. He glanced toward the still-messy dining table-the wine glasses, the dim light spilling from the slightly opened bedroom door-then smirked.

“Damn,” he said, waggling his brows. “It really was a very private moment, huh? So… was it a

success?”

Damien gave him a look. “What are you talking about?”

Ashcroft threw himself onto the nearest armchair with zero shame. “Oh, come on. Don’t make me spell it out. Did you two finally seal the deal or are you still out here suffering from chronic blue balls?”

Damien’s jaw flexed. “Shut up before I punch that smug grin off your face. Your timing always sucks. And besides-none of your damn business.”

Ashcroft lifted both hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Next time, a heads-up would be nice, though. This is the second time I’ve nearly walked into live porn. First the yacht, now this? You know how traumatizing that is for a single man?”

Damien didn’t answer. He just grabbed the nearest throw pillow and hurled it straight at Ashcroft’s head.

“Fuck off.”

Ashcroft swatted it away with a laugh. “Okay, okay-down to business.” His grin faded as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “About that rat. Found something interesting.”

Damien’s eyes sharpened. “Speak.”

The warmth she left behind only fueled his ruthless resolve. He would burn every enemy to ash and clear the path-for her. No mercy. No hesitation. Only cold, unyielding vengeance.

Ashcroft’s expression grew serious as he leaned forward, ready to lay out what they’d uncovered. His tone shifted, the playful edge fading away.

“Didn’t take much to get him talking. Guy’s a coward. All he wanted was cash and a way out. I promised him a new identity, a plane ticket, and a full stomach-he opened up like a busted faucet.”

1/4

Chapter 90: Promises, and Threats-

He nodded toward the folder, a silent cue for Damien to take a look. Then he strode to the bar, grabbed a cold beer, twisted the cap off with a snap. His voice cut through the silence as the air thickened around them-laid-back on the surface, but loaded underneath.

“Turns out Orion’s been in deep shit for years. On paper, they look stable, but behind the scenes? Bleeding money. And guess who’s been injecting cash to keep them from sinking?”

Damien’s eyes narrowed. “Russians?”

Ashcroft nodded once. “Exactly. Which ties into that activity we flagged in Moldova a few days ago. According to this guy, someone flew in from Moldova about three weeks ago. Not just to visit but to deliver a message. Orders, actually.”

Damien didn’t look up, still scanning the contents of the folder.

“What kind of orders?” His voice was low, controlled-but razor-sharp.

Ashcroft took a swig of his beer, voice flat. “Steal the contract from Altair-by any means necessary. And here’s the kicker-they specifically named Ethan Miller. Said he was to be the one sent for the job. No exceptions.”

A long pause followed. The tension in the room turned thick and metallic.

Damien’s knuckles clenched around the armrest of his chair. “So they’re trying to throw us off balance-make us chase shadows while they set their real move in motion.”

“Exactly,” Ashcroft said. “They’re trying to control the narrative-using Moldova and Orion as scapegoats. Miller’s just a pawn. I did some digging-aside from his university ties to Maya, there’s nothing else. It’s clean. But whoever’s pulling the strings? They already suspect something. That’s why we’re getting all these sudden distractions.”

He exhaled sharply. “We need to act fast, D-before the curtain rises and all hell breaks loose. I say it’s time we set the next trap in motion.”

Damien’s jaw tightened. No more waiting. The game had moved beyond the shadows. It was time to strike.

Then came the soft clink of silverware.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify