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

“The asshole hacked the security gates,” Ace said. “The police have been stuck at the front gate.” Ace smiled. “There.”

Seconds later, the wail of sirens split the air.

There was the noise of an internal door opening.

The four men whipped their rifles up. A man with a wild cloud of brown hair and large eyes stumbled in, a half-eaten candy bar in his hand. He froze, looking at the guns. Then he dropped his gaze to Mav.

“Mav-man, you’re bleeding.”

Mav let out a strangled laugh. “I know, Rollo.”

“Shit.” The man bit into his candy bar. “What did I miss?”

“A crazed assassin,” Mav said.

Rollo nodded. “Cool.”

Remi pressed her head to Mav’s and held on. “Don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going anywhere, angel.”





Remi


I was in love with Maverick Rivera.

It made all sorts of emotion swell inside me.

He loved me back.

We had survived.

We had beaten The Shadow.

I stayed close to Mav’s side, my fingers tangled with his. I’d put my shirt back on and we were both covered in blood. I glanced over to where The Shadow was handcuffed on his knees and surrounded by police.

Vander and Boone were talking with the cops.

I heard Mav grunt in pain. Killian was still working on his wound.

“It’s deep,” Killian said.

“Hurts.”

I clutched Mav’s hand tighter. “Come on, tough guy. It’s just a scratch.”

He tried to smile, but slumped, his eyes closing.

“Mav. Mav!” Hot panic was slick inside me. “Killian!”

My boss cursed. “He’s lost too much blood. We need the paramedics here.”

“They’re coming in now,” someone called out.

My heart was racing like galloping horses. I leaned over Mav. “Don’t you dare leave me, Maverick Rivera.” Pain cleaved me open. God, maybe it was me. People just couldn’t stay. “I love you, dammit, and you said you loved me.” My voice broke.

Killian was focused on putting pressure on Mav’s wound, but he sent me a look filled with sympathy.

“I love everything about you,” I continued to whisper to Mav. I pressed my cheek to his hair. “Your brain, I told you that already. Your honesty. You don’t pretend to be anything except who you are. I actually like your grumpiness. I like working with you. I like hot sex with you and your big—”

Killian made a choked noise.

Then I heard a low, pained chuckle.

“Mav?”

His gorgeous, brown eyes looked up at me. “I love you too, angel. It’s going to be okay.”

“Coming through!” a deep voice boomed.

The paramedics pushed in.

“Step back, ma’am,” a man said.

“He needs blood,” Killian said. “Stab wound to his left side—”

I got shoved back, and I watched them work on him.

I suddenly felt cold. I wrapped my arms around myself but it didn’t help the shivers.

A strong arm wrapped around me and I looked up into Vander’s rugged face. The man was hot, but he was still scary.

“He’ll be fine. Mav doesn’t let anything keep him down for long.”

Boone appeared, holding a blanket, and he wrapped it around me.

“You’re shaken up,” Vander said. “It’ll pass.”

“Oh, I think I’m entitled. We were chased by a crazed assassin, and my…man is hurt. I’m going to enjoy every second of my shock, thank you.”

The corner of Vander’s mouth twitched. “You’ll be fine. I like you, Solano.”

“I could probably like you too, but you kind of freak me out.” I cocked my head. “How many ways do you know how to kill a man?”

He grinned, and the air got stuck in my lungs. Yep, Vander Norcross was hot.

“Too many.” His smile vanished.

I glanced over and saw some other paramedics wheeling stretchers across the room. I spotted Ruben and Tisdale. “Are they okay?”

Vander nodded.

“Did The Shadow hurt anyone?”

“He killed a couple of security guards.”

“Damn.” I felt sorry for the families.

“Those two should be fine, though. The gunshot wound might be touch-and-go.”

“Hey, she has a cut,” Mav called out.

An older, grizzled paramedic nodded. “We’ll get someone to deal with it.”

“Now,” Mav ordered.

I rolled my eyes. “Well, being stabbed hasn’t diminished your bossiness.”

He scowled at me. “I want you taken care of.”

And dammit if that didn’t make me feel mushy.

Then they loaded him onto a stretcher.

“We’re on the move,” a paramedic said.

I grabbed Mav’s hand. Did his face have a bit more color in it? “You’re going to be fine.”

He scowled. “You’re still bleeding.”

“I’ll get it dealt with. Stop fussing.”

We reached the ambulance. The other paramedic, a competent woman about ten or fifteen years older than me, opened the doors.

I turned to Mav. “I’ll see you at the hospital—”