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Quadruplets for the Billionaire (Babies for the Billionaire Book 2) by Ana Sparks, Layla Valentine (76)

Chapter Thirteen

Ella

Though our night together had been exhausting, waking up in Paul’s arms the next morning was possibly the most satisfying moment in my life thus far. It felt as if our adventure was just beginning, a long and exciting road laid out before us. For once, I felt like my fate was free for the taking. I didn’t have to worry about what my mother thought; it wasn’t as if she could force me to remain. While the thought of leaving her behind was a painful one, the thought of going on without Paul in my life was unbearable.

You only have one chance to meet your soulmate, and I was confident that I had found mine. Even if he had flopped into the bed soaked after finally getting a shower the night before. The sheets were still damp, even now, and I was fairly certain it wasn’t just water. I reddened at the thought, curling up closer to his side.

Paul was at his most adorable when he was asleep, his mouth parted slightly as he drew breath. He snored softly, and the thought of waking him was an unpleasant one, but I knew he had to pick up his final check that morning, as we were due to hit Rio in a few hours. From there…well, our future awaited us.

I shook him slightly, and he jolted in surprise as he woke up, seeming startled to have another person in bed with him. He relaxed upon seeing my face, and I leaned in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. He rumbled with laughter, crinkling his nose in delight.

“What’s the story, morning glory?” Paul murmured sleepily, resting his cheek in his hand. His eyes shamelessly roved my body, and I arched my back just so as to give him a bit of a show before he departed. He growled hungrily, leaning in to capture my lips in a kiss, and I giggled against his mouth, squealing as he rolled on top of me and pinned me to the bed.

“Ready for round two?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

“More like round fourteen by now, isn’t it?” I retorted, grinning as he palmed my breast in his hand. “As much as I’d like to go again…don’t you have a check to collect?”

I brushed his lips with mine, and immediately he tried to deepen the kiss, but I pushed against him, rolling on top of him and taking my turn to pin him. He grinned cheekily, and I could feel him growing hard beneath me.

“No, no! Bad!” I laughed, slapping his chest.

“Well, getting on top of me sure isn’t going to get me moving any sooner,” he teased.

I rolled my eyes, giggling in spite of myself. I slid off of him, and he pouted adorably when I did so.

“Come on, don’t we have time for one little…” He trailed off, reaching down to pinch my behind.

I blushed, slapping him on the shoulder this time.

“No, baby. I don’t want you to miss your chance to get your check. Our final stop relies on it, after all,” I murmured, stroking his cheek.

Before we’d drifted off the night before, we’d discussed what we would do once we hit port in Rio. With his final check, we would buy plane tickets to Paris. Once there, we’d buy supplies and then backpack our way across Europe. It was unlike anything I had ever dared to dream, but he assured me that it would be as amazing as it sounded.

As much as I wanted to stay in bed with him all day, all night, I knew that we would have to get a move on, eventually. I wanted to avoid seeing my mother if possible, knowing that she would dig her heels in and try to convince me to stay.

I couldn’t chance that; I couldn’t risk the possibility of falling for her trap again.

After a long moment of simply lazing in bed and staring at me, Paul exhaled a sigh, sitting up and swinging his legs off the side of the bed.

“All right, then. I expect to see you dressed by the time I’m back, missy,” he announced.

He rose from the bed, slipping into a pair of khaki shorts and nothing else. I envied his ability to get ready with only the slightest of effort, though I couldn’t deny that the view was one I could ever get bored of. He watched me for a moment longer, rushing towards me to kiss me one last time before he departed. I wrapped my arms around his neck, drawing him in as close as possible. Our kiss deepened, and he shifted to grab my chest once more. I slapped his hand away, pulling back.

“Naughty boy. Go get your check, then we can celebrate,” I assured him.

He pouted once more, but seemed to give up on the idea of keeping me in bed all day.

“All right, little bird. You’d better be waiting for me,” he said, his eyes warm.

“Always,” I replied, making a shooing motion with my hands. He chuckled, shaking his head and slipping out the door.

The room felt almost painfully empty the moment he stepped out, but there were small reminders of his presence throughout. His pillow still smelled like him, for one, and I was tempted to bury my face in it and drift off for a few more hours. The sun had scarcely risen, and it would be some time before we docked. All the same, if I had managed to push him on his way, I supposed I could force myself out of bed as well.

I swung my legs around, rising to my feet and stretching my arms languidly over my head. I reached down to scratch my stomach, grinning at how unattractive I must have looked. A girl had to have her ugly moments, after all.

Realizing I would have to get dressed to enjoy any of the last-minute activities on the ship, I grumbled under my breath, scouring the floor for my clothes. They were nowhere to be seen, and I groaned loudly before dropping to my knees, giving the floor another once-over. This time, I managed to see my bra strap hanging out from underneath the bed, and I giggled softly at the memory of how rambunctious we had gotten.

I reached in, feeling for my bra as well as my other clothing. As I did, my hand landed upon a satchel that was tangled in my bra, and I sighed unhappily as I drew the bundle of clothes out from under the bed. I fidgeted with my bra, cursing the suede laces of Paul’s bag as I tried to free my undergarment. Just as I managed to work it loose, the satchel spilled open as well, its contents spilling out over the floor.

I cursed loudly, trying to gather the various papers before Paul came back. I didn’t want him to get the idea that I’d been snooping or something.

Just as I was trying to carefully sort the papers back into his bag, something gave me pause. There was not one, not two, but five different passports in the bag. All with Paul’s picture, and all with different names.

Dread gathered in the pit of my stomach, and deciding to abandon the whole ‘not snooping’ idea, I dumped the entire contents of the bag onto the floor. There were passports, driver’s licenses, and currencies I’d never seen. There was also a folded note amongst all the passports, tucked between them as if it were meant to be doubly hidden.

Drawing an unsteady breath, my mind raced as I unfolded it. A picture of my mother fell out of the folded paper, and I gasped as I read over the handwritten note. It had outlined a lifetime of personal information about my mother, most notably the trade secrets on her flash drive that could send the company up in smoke. I swallowed the hard lump forming in my throat as I tried to make sense of what I’d found.

There only seemed to be one explanation, but I was reluctant to come to it. Perhaps this information had been given to all of the performers? Possibly so that they could see that my mother had a really good time?

Even I couldn’t believe the lie I fed myself, however. I was reluctant to remain in the room and see what Paul…or Bill, or Michael, or whatever his name was, had to offer by way of explanation. I quickly got dressed, cursing myself for allowing myself to get swept up in the magic of the whole situation.

Had everything the man told me been a lie? Had it all been an act to get closer to my mother? Had he intended to turn me against her all along, in the hope that I would turn over the flash drive?

I had no idea what purpose getting close to me could have served, especially considering the rift that had been growing increasingly wide between my mother and me. Again, I wasn’t prepared to stay and find out. I needed to get out of the room before he found out that I knew what he truly was…

Paul Drake was a conman.

Rising to my feet, I gathered my things and dressed before darting towards the door, leaving nothing behind, save for my dignity.

The tears that flowed were a mix of anger and misery, and as I rushed out the door, I knew I had to find my mother. I had to apologize. I had to warn her to avoid that scumbag that I had been so taken with. I should have trusted her all along; mothers always knew which men were bad, before their foolish daughters could ever hope to find out.

As I set off across the ship, a piercing alarm rang through the air. I jumped in fear, struggling to keep my footing as a crowd of my mother’s employees gathered on the deck as well. I looked for my mother frantically. I didn’t know what was going on, but it couldn’t have been anything good.

An announcement came over the ship’s speaker system, and I was startled to hear that the ship was being evacuated due to a small fire that had broken out on the lower deck. My heart leaped into my throat, and as the people around me made their way to the evacuation deck, I could only rush in the opposite direction, desperately seeking my mother.

“Miss, you need to board one of the lifeboats immediately,” one of the crew members urged, grabbing me by the arm.

I growled, ripping myself free from his grip. He looked startled, but I wasn’t about to let any man come between me and my mother again. I wasn’t about to lose the only person who truly cared about me. Not after I had been so cold to her.

“Miss Beck!” he called after me as I rushed away. I paid him no mind.

I had to make my way to my mother’s cabin on the lower level, and fast. I had no idea what was holding her up; I only knew that I couldn’t leave her to be burned alive.

Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that. Hopefully, I would find her, and we would get off the ship together. She would sign the contract in Rio, and I would take over the company someday. As it was intended to be.

I’d been foolish to believe that there could ever be more to life than EBgen. I would never make that mistake again.