The billionaire’s dirty deal

“LEOOOO, OPEN UP THE FUCKING DOOR, BEFORE I BREAK IT!”

The banging grew louder.

“Open up! I know you’re in there!”

They weren’t going to give up unless they broke my door down… or I opened it. And that was never going to happen. Either way, they wouldn’t be satisfied.

Not until they beat the hell out of me. Or I gave them their money. And either way, I didn’t have it.

Not now. Not ever. Not when I couldn’t even get a decent-paying job.

Money.

The root of all evil. And my main problem right now.

The men at the door went quiet for a second, and for a moment, hope flickered in my chest. Maybe I’d gotten lucky. Maybe they had finally left.

All I had to do now was find another place to crash 

A brown envelope slid under my door.

I quietly stepped forward and picked it up from the floor.

“We’ll be back next week,” one of them growled from the other side of the door. “And if you don’t have our money by then, Leo, I’m breaking every bone in your body!”

I pulled the paper from the envelope with shaking hands.

“See you next week,” the man added as his heavy footsteps faded down the hallway.

My eyes locked onto the bold print.

And my whole body went still.

My stomach dropped.

“Seven million dollars?!”

There was no way.

I’d only borrowed ten grand. How the hell did it become Seven million?

I knew taking a loan from anyone other than a bank was risky… but I never imagined this. Not like this.

Fuck.

Fuck!

I couldn’t even afford a slice of bread, and they expected Seven million?

On top of that, there were other debts. Different places. Different people.

I was going to die.

Because of money.

I stumbled into my bedroom and grabbed my phone from the bed, dialing the only person I trusted.

“Hello? Leo?”

Relief flooded my chest when I heard his voice.

“Max,” I croaked, gripping the paper tighter. “They say I owe Seven million now. What am I going to do?”

“One of the guys just came here,” I went on. “If I don’t get it by next week, I’m dead. They’ll kick the door down next time. I know they will.”

“Whoa Leo, slow down. Seven million?!” he shouted.

“You need to go to the police. This is way out of hand. You’re being scammed and threatened. You have to tell them.”

Tears slipped down my cheeks and I didn’t even bother wiping them away.

“I already did,” I whispered. “They won’t help me. The banks have blacklisted me, and now work is drying up. I screwed up, Max. I never should’ve borrowed the money, but I was desperate.”

The more I thought about it… maybe I should just open the door next time.

Let them beat me.

Beg for my life.

Maybe they’d let me live if I worked for them.

Work off my debt.

My life was the only thing I had left to offer.

“I have an idea,” Max said carefully. “But it’s a long shot.”

“What?” I exhaled sharply. “I’ll do anything at this point. As long as it’s not something sketchy.”

“It’s not like that,” he insisted. “I knew a guy who helped this singer. She was in trouble and went to this man. He gave her the money. All she had to do was one simple thing whatever he asked and she did it.”

“That girl was Maltida Benson. Lead singer of Musical college. She took the deal, and after that? She got her dream. Fame. Money. Success.”

Maltida.

I knew the name.

One minute no one had heard of her next she was everywhere. Charts. Makeup ads. Awards.

“What did she do?” I asked quietly, tapping my foot. “It can’t be that simple.”

“Don’t know. NDA or something,” he said. Then his tone brightened. “But this could be your chance. Movie roles. Debts gone. You need this, Leo.”

“What else do you even have left to lose?”

He was right.

All I had was my bed… an empty fridge with ketchup inside… and the clothes I was wearing.

Still, something about this felt wrong.

No one gave away millions for nothing.

No one.

“Okay,” I said shakily. “Who is he?”

My pride was already shattered.

I had no other options left.

“Grayson Knight .”

The name meant nothing to me.

“Is it real?” I asked. “Would he even see me?”

Max hesitated.

“I mean… there’s no harm in trying, right?” he said awkwardly. “I’ll send the number and address. They say he’s the devil but he gets things done.”

“Thank you,” I whispered. “I don’t even know what I’d do without you. You’re my guardian angel.”

“Just stay alive until then,” he said firmly. “I am not burying my best friend, you hear me?”

Then he hung up.

A moment later, the address and number came through.

My stomach twisted when I read his name again.

Opening G****e, I typed it in.

Grayson Knight .

I clicked the first result his Wikipedia page.

And the first thing that hit me…

Was his face.

I’d expected an old, creepy, rich man with a taste for younger people.

But Grayson was young.

Handsome.

And disgustingly wealthy.

It said he’d built his empire himself. From nothing. And fast.

One of New york’s youngest and richest bachelors.

In the first photo, he stood in front of a floor-to-ceiling window with  behind him. Arms crossed. Expression cold.

The image screamed money.

Power.

Control.

I scrolled.

My eyes nearly popped out of my head.

Billionaire.

Owner of Knight Enterprises.

CEO of Magical one of the biggest talent agencies in New york.

In the world.

Anyone signed to Magical had already made it.

That building was a dream most people would never even stand inside.

If I got in…

TV shows.

Movies.

No more dead-end commercials airing at midnight.

No more scraping by.

No more begging.

I sucked in a breath.

I was done running.

I was done hiding.

This was my only move left.

I tapped the call button.

Grayson Knight.