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

Vander met Mav’s gaze, and lifted his chin.

“Mom, this is Vander and his man, Ace. They rescued us. And this is Killian Hawke, Remi’s boss. He helped, as well.” Mav frowned. “How the hell did you end up here, Hawke?”

“He called Zane when that SoHo property exploded,” Vander said. “When we told him you guys were in trouble, he wanted in. Provided the gear and the helo.”

Mav lifted his chin. “You have my gratitude.”

Killian nodded.

“Thank you, thank you.” His mother hurried over.

She hugged Killian, Ace, and then, ignoring the fact that Vander was a badass, Mav’s mother charged up and hugged him too.

Luckily, Vander came from an Italian-American family. His mom and Mav’s mom would be best friends, if they lived closer. Vander hugged her back.

“Remi?” Mav asked.

Vander nodded to a curtain.

Mav hobbled over, towing his bag on wheels, and pulled the curtain back. Love for his friends hit him.

Remi sat on the bed. Liam sat beside her, saying something that made her laugh. Zane was on her other side, holding her hand.

Aspen and Monroe were wiping her arms and face.

Her head turned.

And he saw it.

Something he’d never seen in a woman’s eyes before—love. He’d seen lust, desire, want, envy, but in Remi’s eyes he saw love, trust, and forever.

She leaped off the bed and ran to him.

He caught her, holding her tight. His side pulled, but he didn’t care.

“Remi.” Mav’s mother hustled forward, and hugged her.

Remi hesitated a second, then hugged her back.

“What the hell happened?” Mav’s brother, Carlos, demanded.

“It’s a long story.” Mav claimed Remi again and looked at Vander.

“The assassin is in police custody and facing some significant charges,” Vander said.

“Assassin?” Mav’s mom whispered.

“It’s over, Mom.”

She nodded and leaned into Mav’s father.

“It’s over. We’re all safe,” Remi said.

Mav stroked his thumb along her cheekbone. “Yes, we are.” But some things were just beginning. “Remi—”

“Where is my girl?” another loud, female voice demanded.

Mav looked up. Boone was leading Mama Alma in.

And the rest of Remi’s family were behind them.

They poured into the examination room.

There was noise, tears, hugging. Some nurses finally hustled them into a private waiting room.

Mav was ordered back to bed, which he ignored. Instead, he found a chair and pulled Remi into his lap.

She looked exhausted. They’d both been hugged and kissed within inches of their lives.

“Ruben and Tisdale?” she asked.

“Stable. They should make full recoveries.”

She released a breath. “Good.”

Mav pulled out his phone and tapped. He heard the ping of her phone.

She read the text and smiled.

His phone pinged.

I love you, too.





Mav typed again.

This time, her eyes widened. She frowned and typed.

You just asked me to marry you via text?





“Do you need something else?” he asked.

Her eyes narrowed.

He touched his phone again, activating a program that he had on there.

A second later, her phone played a song. It was “Marry You”, by Bruno Mars. He heard her gasp.

“Oh, my God, did you just hack my phone?” she asked.

“Yes.”

She tapped on it. “I’m going to hack you back, Rivera.”

He hoped so. “You’ve already stolen my most heavily guarded possession. My heart.”

Her face softened. “Damn, don’t make me cry.” She sniffed. “And the answer will be yes, after you ask me again when we aren’t in scrubs, smeared with blood, and surrounded by a million people.”

Elation filled him. “Deal.”

He covered her mouth with his.





Remi


Dancing to a new pop song, I leaned forward and finished my makeup in the mirror.

I would still be very happy to live in Mav’s master bathroom. I grinned at myself in the mirror. But instead of his bathroom, I was living in his whole place.

I was living with Mav.

Swaying my hips to the beat, I took a second to admire my short, tight Herve Leger dress. To say it hugged my curves was an understatement.

It was electric blue, which I’d learned was Mav’s favorite color, and it left one shoulder bare.

I looked hot.

Finishing with my makeup, I fluffed my hair. I left it out, artfully tousled. I had diamond studs in my ears. He’d given them to me for our one-week anniversary.

I’d given him a mug, which he loved. He had his coffee in it every day.

I strode toward the kitchen, sidestepping my clothes from last night. I’d left them dropped on the bedroom floor. Mav didn’t seem to mind that I wasn’t exactly the tidiest person.

My makeup was strewn through the bathroom, my clothes packed untidily into his closet.

For a man who’d avoided relationships all his life, he was a good boyfriend.

I was going to marry him one day.

We hadn’t made it official, deciding to take our time and savor every moment. Plus let all the media hubbub die down after the whole hacking/The Shadow/assassination attempt drama. I could barely leave Mav’s place without a crowd of paparazzi following me.