THE BILLIONAIRE BABY’S SECRET DADDY
The scent of expensive cologne mixed with gunpowder lingers in the air as my guard steps in.
“Boss,” he says, his voice clipped and professional. “Someone’s on the line for you.”
I stretch my fingers before holding out my hand. The cold burner phone is placed in my palm. I press it to my ear.
“Speak.”
A familiar chuckle echoes through the receiver. “Ah, always so formal,” Jones Gilbert muses.
I smirk. “Spare me the small talk, Senator. What’s the update?”
“It’s working perfectly,” he replies, satisfaction dripping from his voice. “Stanley came to see me today.”