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“I got held up.”
He gives me a wry stare. “By the Bianchi girl, I’m guessing.”
I’m not surprised he knows. Khalil Larsen is a legend in our world. Not because of who he is but what he is. And what he is, is practically a ghost. He’s a genius when it comes to keeping himself invisible. He owns a private investigations company, but what he does is mostly off the books. He’s able to keep up his lifestyle because he’s quite frankly the best hacker I’ve ever met.
Christian would be amazed by what Khalil can do. They have never met before. Khalil values anonymity, and he never steps out of the shadows unless he wants to. Which is why this friendship works so well.
“What did you find out?”
“There are whispers everywhere, of course. A D’Angelo with a Bianchi. You just might make the front pages of the top gossip magazines.”
My lips curl in distaste. “I’d rather not.”
“I figured. I made a few calls, wiped a few servers, and stopped all the articles. The relevant ones anyway. Now you owe me a favor.”
“Of course,” I say, gesturing with my glass for him to continue.
“Explain this farce of a relationship to me,” he prompts.
I roll my eyes, unsurprised. I offer him the quick details and by the time I’m done, he’s amused.
“So you’re tying yourself to her to procure a building.”
“It’s mutually beneficial,” I say on a shrug.
“From what I know, fake relationships never end well.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because somehow the parties involved always fall for each other.”
I flinch slightly before looking him in the eye. “I’m confident that’s not going to happen.”
Khalil’s still amused. Dark eyes trail over my face. “I was going to go to London for a while, but maybe I’ll stick around. See how this goes.”
I arch an eyebrow at that. “You’re going to stick around because you expect me to somehow fall for a woman I barely know and have no interest in pursuing a relationship with.”
“I’m sticking around because you’re playing with fire and it’ll be funny if mister made of steel gets burnt.”
“Why the hell do I keep you around, Larsen?” I question, bringing my glass to my lips.
He smiles. “Because you’d be practically useless without me. Even now, you want me to do something for you.”
I shrug. He knows me well. “I need info on Salvador Bianchi.”
“What kind of info?”
“The damning kind.”
This time, when Khalil smiles, it’s mischievous. “You’re planning on blackmailing your future father-in-law?”
“Shut up. It’s only a backup plan. Just in case. And he’s not my future father-in-law,” I add.
“Mmm,” Khalil says.
“So you’ll do it?”
“Fine. I’m only doing this because you took care of the McLaren case for me.”
