I stretch, wake up, and fling my arm over Katy.

It falls to empty sheets, and I realize she’s gone.

I should’ve expected it, though I’m surprised she left after such an incredible night.

I made her come so hard. I thought she’d be right here next to me still, craving more.

She’s truly an independent person, but I gather that you have to be to pull off heists such as she has.

She’s escaped me once again. I look at the clock and realize it’s still so early. She must’ve left before dawn.

Katy’s never given me her contact info or anything. So the only way I have to find her is through my investigators.

The fact that this girl keeps avoiding me and keeps leaving is starting to make me become possessive. Every time she says goodbye, it could be the last time we see each other, and that doesn’t seem to faze her. I want her to not be able to leave my side so easily.

The thought suddenly dawns on me that she might’ve stolen something. After taking my wallet in jail, I know this person is capable of anything. I get up and search the apartment for anything that might be missing.

My wallet and watch are on the bedside table where I left them. I’m surprised, considering this could’ve been the last time we see each other. I would’ve expected her to rob me blind.

The fact that she didn’t…it makes me think that perhaps she’s starting to care about me even a little bit, even if she thinks we’ll never see each other again.

It’s good news, considering my reasons for wanting her are twofold: I want her body, mind, and soul to be mine and mine alone―at least for the time being. And I want to trace her steps so that I can see how she’s planning to attack my company again.

Once again, business and pleasure collide. There’s no way around it.

Last night was incredible. Katy is fucking talented. She surprises me in so many ways―and yet I know I was able to dominate her once, and that makes my cock harden again.

To take down someone so powerful feels good. She’s a challenge to me and she keeps escaping me, and that makes me want her even more.

Katy is an enigma who I fully intend on figuring out. By the time I’m done with her, I’ll have her completely exposed.

I shower and dress in one of the suits I keep hanging in my fake apartment. This place is not the penthouse, but it’s fine. It has all the luxuries I need for the moment.

I make a couple calls to the investigative team. I tell them I want them to watch Katy from afar. I want to know where she is at all times.

I make some coffee and wait for them to track her down.

Eventually, the investigator named Mark calls me. “We have a location on a convenience store she frequents. If you go there now, I think you could see her. It must be close to where she lives.”

“What’s the address?” I ask, scribbling it down.

I go downstairs and hop in my car and go to the assigned location. A part of me loves the fact that I can watch Katy from a distance, and a part of me feels like I’m stalking her.

But whatever. She’s targeting my business and so I have to pull out all the stops. Watching her is no dirtier a deed then stealing from my company, which is what she plans on doing.

I parked at a far distance from the convenience store. My investigators did a good job, because I soon see her emerge from the store wearing earphones and holding a few things that she bought.

She looks so gorgeous this morning.

I wonder if she’s sore and if she’s still reeling from being freshly fucked by me.

Last night was so good. Katy is someone I need to have in my bed again. Of that I’m sure.

This morning, she’s wearing tight ripped-up jeans and a black T-shirt. And she’s wearing black Doc Martens and sunglasses.

She’s my dark princess, always covered head to toe in mystery and intrigue. It reflects her hacker life and solitude.

Mark was right, because I follow her slowly in my car as she makes her way to an old apartment building. This must be where she lives. I’m glad I have at least that locked down.

I’m sick of chasing her around the city. I’m glad to know her she resides, finally.

Her place is probably as I thought it was, akin to the hacker lifestyle. I don’t mind that about Katy. If she truly is the sort of criminal who steals from these large organizations, one thing’s for sure: she doesn’t keep the money for herself.

It goes somewhere else, and the fact that it’s not in her pocket makes me believe that she’s not purely about money.

Women like me because they know I’m a billionaire. Katy doesn’t know that about me. And if she did, I doubt she would care. I find that highly amusing and―a huge turn-on.

I watch her go into her building, and it makes me feel powerful that I finally know where she lives. I plan on sending her a special little gift this afternoon.

I drive away and speed through the city to my own Manhattan penthouse. From there, I have my assistants wrap up a painting from the dummy apartment that Katy commented on. It’s the one that she liked and was asking about last night.

I tell them to deliver it to her building. I personally fill out a card that goes with the painting telling Katy to call me.

Of course, the real surprise for her is that I know where she lives.

I then pace around my office, waiting for her to call.

This girl has me on edge, and she has me in a delightful game of cat and mouse that I find intoxicating. Never did I imagine wanting to bed the hacker who’s out to destroy my life.

What she doesn’t know yet is that I’m always one step ahead of everybody, no matter who they may be. It’s part of what’s made me successful. Call it intuition or what you will, but it gives me the advantage.

And my success with Katy will depend on this adept ability to be ahead of her in every way.

It doesn’t take long for her to call me after receiving the painting.

“Hi, Katy, how are you doing?” I ask.

“Never mind that. How do you know where I live, Marcus?” she says.

“I asked around.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Does it matter? I just wanted to send you the painting.”

“Yes, it matters. How did you f―”

“Listen. I’m sorry if that’s not something you wanted. How about we talk? In person?”

She takes a minute to consider before saying, “Fine.”

With that, she slams down the phone, and I text her the address where I want to take her.

Katy is such a firecracker, and I love that about her. But she’s probably also feeling a little bit uncomfortable that I’m closing in on her life. How many other men can say they found out where she lives?

I’ve done the impossible, and it feels pretty good.