Claimed By My Billionaire Ex

Chapter 5

OLIVE

Ipaused at the top of the spiral staircase as the door to the kitchen slammed shut. A smile spread across my face and my heart leapt into my throat. That couldn't have gone better. Apparently, acting crazy was the perfect way to freak a guy out.

Lucas had bought my act perfectly.

Now I could finish the mission and return as his date with a simple apology. "The alcohol made me woozy." "I'm not used to being around rich people." Anything would work as long as I kept up this act for him tonight.

I'd probably tone it down a bit, but I'd keep the name Mallory.

My tracks would be covered, but in the event someone suspected something, a fake name would help. Either way, I'd ensured that Lucas would write me off as the kind of woman who didn't fit into his life by my behavior. He'd probably text once or twice after this, but communication would fade, and I wouldn't follow up.

It was exactly how I had planned it.

I trotted the last few steps of the stairwell and emerged into a dark, cool room.

Grabbing my phone, I opened my texts with Quinn. His last text, Text me when you make it up the spiral staircase.

My fingers moved quickly. Ready.

As his text bubble appeared, I used the light from my phone to glance around the space.

Shelves stocked with canned goods lined the walls, and jugs of water were stashed in the corners. It was a pantry—a pantry bigger than my bedroom closet. The most surprising part wasn't the years worth of food but the crystal chandelier that hung from the vaulted ceiling.

Of course, Jessie Isaacs' pantry had a fucking chandelier above his spiral staircase. What mayor wouldn't?

"Rich people." I shook my head. I didn't get them. This whole place screamed gaudiness, a 'look at me' facade that mirrored Jessie's personality. He was nice enough. Charming like most politicians. But I wouldn't be here if Jessie didn't have secrets.

My phone vibrated, and I opened the text from Quinn.

The target will be on his office computer. A file labeled "Countertop colors." Folder will have a password. Need whole folder copied and pasted on USB.Countertop colors, huh? I highly doubted Quinn was interested in looking at what kind of decor choices the mayor of Boston wanted. I'd done enough of these jobs to know two things: secrets were never labeled as such and questions never helped.

I knew better than to ask.

Quinn was paying me for a job, not my opinion on whatever he wanted me to steal.

My phone vibrated again.I'm already tapped into the security system. I'll turn off the cameras when you're ready. You'll have about six minutes before Jessie gets a notification that the cameras are down. Office is the third door on the right.

This is often how it went with Quinn. He would know the entire schematics of a target's house, with a plan already laid out. He was a good hacker, one of the best I'd worked with, but he preferred staying behind the scenes. If he could hack into the cameras, then he'd surely tried to hack into the computer—but if he'd hired me, then it meant he was unsuccessful in that.

Which wasn't surprising. Unlike cameras, most computers had firewalls that could only be bypassed in person.

Ready.

Quinn and I had done this enough that I knew what his next text would be. It had been six months since my last job with him, but it didn't matter how much time had passed. It was always these seconds before he gave me the signal to start that stirred the most nerves. Sweat popped on my brow, and my pulse pounded in my ears.