The Billionaire and the Con Artist: A Bad Boy Romance (Bad Girls Series Book 1) by Leanne Brice Page A
Authors: Leanne Brice
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sounds so hopeless. “She was all I had. She left, and she took… everything."
She closes her eyes briefly and gives her head a shake, as if recalibrating, then restarts.
“My friend, Taylor—we arranged to meet and she drugged me and robbed me of everything I had. I have nothing left!"
I’m guessing she means my watch too.
I’m still not sure this isn’t yet another con, so I tell her exactly that.
"I don’t believe you, ‘Jewel’,” I say with air quotes this time. “Just give me my watch back, feel free to keep the cash. And you know what? I’ll do you the favor of letting it end there—no cops or anything involved. Just don’t let me see your face again.”
“I don’t have it, Axel! I know you have no reason to believe me, but it’s the truth. Taylor turned on me; she robbed me blind.”
She dissolves into sobs again.
Shit.
I may or may not end up regretting this, but I believe her, despite logic screaming at me.
I glance at Nate.
It seems he took a few steps back somewhere along the way, and it almost looks like he’s about to bolt out of the door.
He has that ‘I just walked in on a fucking couple’ look on his face, like he accidentally interrupted a private moment.
Poor guy looks so uncomfortable, but I know he’ll stay until I give the word.
I turn back to Jewel.
She is now looking down at her hands absently, sniffing.
There’s such sorrow on her face when she says, "I have no one now," that it absolutely ruins me.
I can’t believe this, but I feel something hardening inside me, a determination.
A firm decision has been made, despite logic, and I know what it is—there’s no chance I’m letting her go now.
If Jewel is telling the truth, she won’t have to worry about being alone again; I’ll make sure of it.
Call me a sucker, but I don’t think I was wrong about her the first time—that she fit me, that she and I connected in a way I thought was no longer possible. That what we had was truly special.
But first thing’s first—I’ll help her get revenge while getting my shit back.
“What’s your real name?” I ask gently.
She takes a brief moment before she says, “I’m April.”
Then she looks away, but I don’t think it’s to hide a lie in her eyes.
“April, meet Nate,” I say, gesturing in his direction. “Nate, here’s that girl I was telling you about.”
Nate tries and fails to suppress a chuckle at my expense, and I swear I hear April snort too.
“Ah, yes—The one quivering in anticipation of a second round. The one hounding for a pounding,” he says, probably grateful for a reprieve from the heaviness of the past few minutes.
I don’t blame Nate for taking a moment to laugh at my expense—I’d think this whole thing was funny too if it wasn’t my shit involved—but my cheeks heat at his words, and I almost berate him for saying something so vulgar in front of April.
It seems I had nothing to worry about—April’s face has softened with genuine humor; she’s not offended at all.
I remind myself I’m not exactly dealing with a delicate li’l thing. Delicate in some ways, maybe, but the girl has obviously had a tough time for a while.
It’ll take more than a reference to sex to offend her.
She’s not exactly vulgar herself—cursing up a breeze or anything—but she’s no shy conservative either.
She obviously wasn’t a virgin, and as much as it enrages me to think about, she probably has had to use her body to get what she needed along the way.
I try to get her to look into my eyes.
“Nice to finally meet you, April. It seems you and I need to have a little talk.”
"I’ll be nearby," Nate says to make sure she knows she’ll have to get by two of us if she manages to slip away from my grasp.
Somehow, I don’t think she is going to attempt escape again—not yet anyway.
Her whole manner has changed—like she has exhausted all her remaining energy.
Everything about her has sort of drooped.
Even her hair looks
She closes her eyes briefly and gives her head a shake, as if recalibrating, then restarts.
“My friend, Taylor—we arranged to meet and she drugged me and robbed me of everything I had. I have nothing left!"
I’m guessing she means my watch too.
I’m still not sure this isn’t yet another con, so I tell her exactly that.
"I don’t believe you, ‘Jewel’,” I say with air quotes this time. “Just give me my watch back, feel free to keep the cash. And you know what? I’ll do you the favor of letting it end there—no cops or anything involved. Just don’t let me see your face again.”
“I don’t have it, Axel! I know you have no reason to believe me, but it’s the truth. Taylor turned on me; she robbed me blind.”
She dissolves into sobs again.
Shit.
I may or may not end up regretting this, but I believe her, despite logic screaming at me.
I glance at Nate.
It seems he took a few steps back somewhere along the way, and it almost looks like he’s about to bolt out of the door.
He has that ‘I just walked in on a fucking couple’ look on his face, like he accidentally interrupted a private moment.
Poor guy looks so uncomfortable, but I know he’ll stay until I give the word.
I turn back to Jewel.
She is now looking down at her hands absently, sniffing.
There’s such sorrow on her face when she says, "I have no one now," that it absolutely ruins me.
I can’t believe this, but I feel something hardening inside me, a determination.
A firm decision has been made, despite logic, and I know what it is—there’s no chance I’m letting her go now.
If Jewel is telling the truth, she won’t have to worry about being alone again; I’ll make sure of it.
Call me a sucker, but I don’t think I was wrong about her the first time—that she fit me, that she and I connected in a way I thought was no longer possible. That what we had was truly special.
But first thing’s first—I’ll help her get revenge while getting my shit back.
“What’s your real name?” I ask gently.
She takes a brief moment before she says, “I’m April.”
Then she looks away, but I don’t think it’s to hide a lie in her eyes.
“April, meet Nate,” I say, gesturing in his direction. “Nate, here’s that girl I was telling you about.”
Nate tries and fails to suppress a chuckle at my expense, and I swear I hear April snort too.
“Ah, yes—The one quivering in anticipation of a second round. The one hounding for a pounding,” he says, probably grateful for a reprieve from the heaviness of the past few minutes.
I don’t blame Nate for taking a moment to laugh at my expense—I’d think this whole thing was funny too if it wasn’t my shit involved—but my cheeks heat at his words, and I almost berate him for saying something so vulgar in front of April.
It seems I had nothing to worry about—April’s face has softened with genuine humor; she’s not offended at all.
I remind myself I’m not exactly dealing with a delicate li’l thing. Delicate in some ways, maybe, but the girl has obviously had a tough time for a while.
It’ll take more than a reference to sex to offend her.
She’s not exactly vulgar herself—cursing up a breeze or anything—but she’s no shy conservative either.
She obviously wasn’t a virgin, and as much as it enrages me to think about, she probably has had to use her body to get what she needed along the way.
I try to get her to look into my eyes.
“Nice to finally meet you, April. It seems you and I need to have a little talk.”
"I’ll be nearby," Nate says to make sure she knows she’ll have to get by two of us if she manages to slip away from my grasp.
Somehow, I don’t think she is going to attempt escape again—not yet anyway.
Her whole manner has changed—like she has exhausted all her remaining energy.
Everything about her has sort of drooped.
Even her hair looks
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