Hacking Mr. CEO (Billionaire Heists #3) by Anna Hackett

“You were the first person I loved,” I told her.

She turned. “It’s an honor. Now don’t make me cry, or no cookies for you tomorrow.”

With a smile, I headed inside and up to my loft.

I shed my dress, hanging it up, then carefully set the jewelry aside. I pulled on my red-plaid pajama bottoms and a fitted, long-sleeved, black top.

Ah, it was so good to ditch the bra and heels.

I loosened my hair, and took my time washing my makeup off.

I was thinking of Mav as I drifted off to sleep.





Remi


I woke in the pitch blackness, and blinked.

Frowning, I rolled and looked to the glow of the bedside clock through the gauzy curtain around my bed.

2:05 AM.

With a groan, I flopped back on my pillow. I’d only been asleep a few hours. I wondered what had woken me?

I didn’t remember any X-rated dreams starring a certain tech billionaire. Dragging in a breath, I rolled over.

Then I frowned.

I smelled smoke.

I sat up and sniffed again. It wasn’t super strong, but it was definitely noticeable.

Reaching over, I turned on my bedside lamp, then slipped on a comfy pair of running shoes, and my favorite knit cardigan. Habit had me sliding my phone into my pocket.

Heading down the stairs, I sniffed. Nothing seemed amiss in Steve’s workshop.

Then I heard shouts from outside, and my pulse spiked.

Rushing to the door, I yanked it open. Horror hit me like a tidal wave.

Mama’s house was on fire.

I saw flames. I saw smoke.

“Mama!” God, the kids.

I ran to the front door and banged on it. “Mama!”

That’s when I saw the chain and padlock, and my chest froze. Someone had locked the door shut.

No. No!

I raced to Steve’s basement apartment. “Steve!” God, it was locked shut, too.

Panic and fear were hot and slick in my veins.

“Remi!” Steve’s muffled shout. “I can smell smoke. The door’s blocked. We can’t get out.”

What did I do?

“Hold on,” I shouted.

I raced back up and saw windows open above. Charlie’s terrified face looked down at me.

“Remi! There’s a fire.”

“I know, Charlie. Hold on. I’ll get you out.”

I yanked my phone out, hand shaking.

“Remi?” Mav’s sleep-gritty voice.

“Mav, oh, God.”

“What’s wrong?” He sounded alert.

“Mama’s house is on fire! The doors are chained shut. Mav—”

“Stay calm. I’m on my way. I’ll call 9-1-1. Remi, go and get Boone.”

“Who?” I couldn’t think.

“My man across the street.”

“Oh, right.”

“Do not go in that building, Remi. I’m coming.”

I shoved the phone in my pocket, and darted across the street. Lights were coming on in the surrounding houses, and people were coming out.

“Call 9-1-1,” I yelled.

I raced to the door of Mrs. Hansen’s house. Before I thumped my fist on it, the door was yanked open.

A wall of muscled, shirtless chest greeted me. The guy was ripped, and held a pistol at his side. His rugged face looked grim.

“The house is on fire,” I yelled. “The doors have been chained shut.”

He glanced past me and muttered a curse.

He shoved the gun in the back of his jeans, then swiveled. He was back a second later, shrugging a plaid shirt on. He had bolt cutters, and an axe in his hands.

We raced back to the house.

I looked up—Charlie, Jamal, and Naomi were at the windows, coughing and crying.

Boone thundered down to Steve’s basement.

“Hold on!” I yelled at the kids.

“The fire is in here,” Jamal screamed.

Boone returned a second later. Steve staggered behind him, clutching a hysterical Kaylee in his arms.

Boone positioned himself under the window, legs braced. “Jump, kid.”

Jamal’s eyes went wide.

“We’ve got you,” I cried. “Come on.” I moved in close to Boone and waved.

“Go on, Jamal,” Naomi said.

Jamal threw his skinny legs over the window sill. He was in a pair of blue pajamas.

He jumped.

Boone caught him and handed him off to me.

“Come on.” Boone waved at Charlie next.

The little boy leaped.

Boone caught him as well.

Naomi hesitated.

“You can do this, Naomi,” I said.

She pulled in a shuddering breath and jumped. Boone caught her, going back a step.

I raced to her, hugging her tight. “Come and sit with the boys on the sidewalk. You’re fine. It’ll be fine.”

“Mama?” Naomi said, tears tracking down her cheeks.

“We’ll get her.” I fought my own fear and looked at Boone. “Our mother is inside.”

Boone nodded. He took the bolt cutters and put them against the chain on the door.

Snap.

He yanked the door open, and flames and smoke roared out.

Boone shoved me to the side.

“Where’s her room?” he demanded.

God, how could anyone survive this?

“Remi,” Boone barked. “Where’s her room?”

“Upstairs.” Tears ran down my face. “Back left. Here.” I shrugged off my cardigan.