Billionaire in Disguise

Billionaire in Disguise Melanie Knight Windyhope Star Press To my Aunt Adrienne Thank you for a thousand beautiful memories, a million smiles and never-ending love. You are forever in my heart. Contents About Billionaire in Disguise Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Epilogue Undercover Billionaire The Secret Billionaires Series About the Author About Billionaire in Disguise Wanted: Fake boyfriend Qualifications: Must be charming and friendly. No criminal masterminds. Prior experience as a fake boyfriend a plus. Responsibilities: Convince my large family you are my boyfriend, so I don’t ruin their celebration. May involve shirtless jogs, splash fights and lots of practice kissing. Applicant Name: Dominick Knight, a.k.a. Nick Walters Employment: Billionaire CEO of Knight Technology, undercover as a temp to investigate corruption. Special skills: Keeping my true identity a secret. Final result: Secrets, seduction and excitement. Chapter 1 “Who are you?” “I am not as I appear.” “That is obvious.” He was an idiosyncrasy, an anomaly in a plush perfect world of garish luxury. Floor-to-ceiling windows streamed light to a wall of mirrors, illuminating the stark white angles of ultra-modern furniture and a massive blood red desk. Million-dollar statues rose like crystal daggers, their jagged edges reflecting the eerie translucent visage of a stranger’s face. No one would recognize Dominick Knight, billionaire businessman, computer genius and international bestselling author, next to the garish marble furnishings of the gleaming penthouse. That was the point. Of course, not everything was different. His eyes still glinted like blue diamond shards; his hair remained a whisper past midnight. He stood the same formidable height, his muscular build a testament to the hours he spent at the gym. Yet beyond that the changes were stark: A once clean-shaven face hidden behind a dark beard. Baggy, ill-fitting clothing, two decades out of season, plucked from a discount chain’s clearance rack. Thick glasses reminiscent of his grandfather’s time. “Who do you think I am?” The thin, balding man encircled him, his thousand-dollar Armani pebbled leather shoes echoing on the polished ceramic floor. His confusion was expected, assured even. “A billionaire risking everything with a game. What will the media say when they discover the truth?” They would never leave him alone. Yet it didn’t matter. Dominick stepped forward, tracing his hand along the priceless grand piano no one played. “Are they happy?” “Who?” Montgomery Carlyle lifted a hand adorned with thick diamond rings. His voice was nasal, from a nose that grew thinner with every visit to his famed plastic surgeon. Dominick set his jaw. He had already explained the plan twice. “My employees.” “Your employees?” The answer was as chilled as the temperature. “Does it matter?” Dominick tightened, stepped to the crystal-clear panes showcasing the brilliant Miami skyline. The buildings soared all around them, scraping the sky with their gilded architecture. Few rose as high as his penthouse office. “The rumors portray problems far beyond a difficult work environment. I must see for myself.” Many in his position wouldn’t care, secure at the crescendo of society. That wasn’t who he was. Carlyle lifted a bony shoulder. “Even with your disguise, the risk of discovery is significant. Your face has graced the cover of every society page on the Internet, and that was before your bestselling book was crowned motivational book of the year. Whether you like it or not, you are a celebrity. What will you do if they uncover your identity?” The already intense media scrutiny would increase a thousandfold. Life would never be the same. “The risk is irrelevant. To them, I will just be an ordinary employee.” “There is nothing ordinary about you.” Dominick stood tall, folded his arms across his chest. “No one will discover the truth.” “I hope so,” Carlyle replied. “Because if you’re not careful, you’ll end up on every news station across the country.” Yes, he would. * * * “Bring your boyfriend.” The words glared from Adrianna Lewis’ small cell phone screen. Three words. One sentence. Inescapable consequences. “What did you say?” Adrianna gasped and pivoted, relaxed only slightly as the speaker pushed herself off the neon yellow wall. She sucked in a breath of orange-scented air, management’s newest torture work-improving technique, and cringed at the bitter taste. “Don’t do that, Chloe. I thought you were Mr. Dobbs.” Chloe merely shook her head before sitting on one of the round rolling stools. Too fast, as she rolled forward, and then to the side, then back again. With a whoosh, the stool went down, and then up, bobbing her blond curls like a slinky. “Why can’t we get normal chairs like everyone else?” “Because these keep you alert and effective, ready to build the technology that changes the world.” With a deep voice, Adrianna rattled off the Knight Technology memo, which arrived the day her sturdy chair had been replaced with a tiny stool that didn’t cover half her– “Ass.” “What?” “Dobbs is an ass. Why do you care if he sees you on your cell phone? You deserve your twenty-seven minute lunch.” “Haven’t you heard? Our lunch allotment has decreased to twenty-six minutes. For our benefit, of course.” Benefits noted thus far: 1. A delightful tangle of hunger pains and indigestion 2. Increased budget for antacids 3. Running to the ladies’ room had become a spectator sport. “I can’t afford to lose this job, at least not yet.” “You know my opinion.” Chloe patted down her smart aqua pantsuit and lowered her voice. “I have an interview today.” Adrianna smoothed her own floral dress. Everyone was searching for a way to escape Dobbs’ Dungeon, the Ft. Lauderdale office of Knight Technology and remnant of her dream job. It had started so well, with fantastic pay, excellent work conditions and the chance to join the cutting-edge leader of the industry. Then Dobbs arrived, and everything changed. Chairs shrunk. Lunch hours shrunk. Management complaints skyrocketed. Yet still she endured. She didn’t want a job at any