SAFEHOUSE (A BWWM BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE)

Safehouse

A BWWM Billionaire
Romance

 

Mia Caldwell

 

Copyright 2015, All
Rights Reserved

 

[email protected]

 

www.amazon.com/author/miacaldwell

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Safehouse

 

By Mia
Caldwell

 
 

The rules of the witness protection
plan are simple… Keep your mouth shut, and live long enough to testify.

 

Maybe I should have added a new rule
to that list… Don’t fall in love with the sexy billionaire who has sworn to
protect me…

 

Of course… I’ve never been very good
at following the rules…

 

Safehouse
is a full standalone BWWM Billionaire Romance Novel with a happy-ever-after and
NO CLIFFHANGER!

 
 
 
 

© 2015 Mia Caldwell

 

All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may
not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express
permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book
review.

 

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons,
living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The
characters are all productions of the author’s imagination.

 

Please note that this work is intended only for adults over
the age of 18 and all characters represented as 18 or over.

 

Kindle Edition

 
 

(
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)

 

Chapter 1

 
 

 

 

I woke with a start, my eyes darting around and taking in my
surroundings, making sure I was still safe. I wasn’t sure whether I was woken
up by the plane’s turbulence, or my recurring nightmare… Although the sweat
that accumulated around my hairline gave me the answer.

 

It was the nightmare.

 

Taking in a deep breath, I tried calming myself down as I looked out
the round window on my right. Even thousands of feet up in the air, I felt like
a hunted animal. I was trying to escape… Trying to overcome everything I’d
seen, everything that was going on, and everything that resulted from my
testimony. It wasn’t going to be easy.

 

In fact, it’s going to be pretty
damn difficult,
I thought to myself.

 

Blinking back the tears, I exhaled and shook out my hands. The last
thing I needed was to have a panic attack somewhere over the middle of the
freaking Atlantic Ocean.

 

Beneath the body of the plane was nothing but dark blue water for as
far as the eye could see. There was not a cloud in the sky, and the sun was
just beginning to set on the horizon. It was hard to admire a scene so tranquil
when I couldn’t feel that same peace inside.

 

Images of that insane night rotated through my mind, flickering like
ruined pieces of a film reel. I bit my lip and tried to concentrate by thinking
of other things. The night played on in my head regardless…

 

I was working another late night at the hotel, filling in for Rosita
so that she could help watch her grandchildren. It was the least I could do
after Rosita had helped me out so many times before. The top level of the hotel
was specifically reserved for its higher-paying clientele—and most of us hotel
workers knew—that meant some pretty dangerous people were roaming the halls. It
was an unspoken agreement to keep quiet and never make eye contact, which
probably saved our necks more times than I could count.

 

While cleaning one of the last rooms along the expansive row of
penthouses I heard some arguing going on inside another room across the hall.
This wasn’t too common, but I was smart and had learned to mind my own business
and keep my head low. When the arguing turned to shouting, I looked to the
barely-used walkie-talkie on my cart and wondered whether I should radio in for
security or not.

 

But I never got the chance.

 

The next thing I knew, the door to that room flew open, and out
strolled someone that even I, a nobody of a girl from Brooklyn knew. It was the
head of the Five Families, Angelo Verdicci.

 

Angelo ran the city’s underground with an iron fist, probably hoping
to go down in history as one of the roughest heads of the Mafia there ever was.
When he came walking past me, eyeing me all suspiciously, I nearly bolted right
then and there.

 

I gotta hurry up and finish school
so I can get away from all of this,
I had thought to myself, hoping he would
continue walking down the hall without looking back. I noticed he didn’t have
his usual slew of beefy bodyguards. When you’re the crime boss of one of the
most dangerous cities in the world, you don’t fly solo
anywhere

 

Which might have been the reason it was so easy for the other man who
came out of the room behind him to shoot Angelo in the back of the head.

 

Even living in Port Morris my whole life, I had
never
been this close to a gun going off. The noise was unlike
anything else I’d ever heard. My brain rattled and a piercing ring resounded
through my ears, muffling everything that came after.

 

I sat there whimpering as I dropped to the ground, hoping to God that
the man wouldn’t carelessly dispose of me too. I didn’t know who he
was—probably just another gangster—and when he turned to face me with his gun
cocked back I sobbed. This was the end. All I could do was pray it would be a
swift death. There’d be no begging on my part. He wouldn’t be merciful. I’d
seen his face.

 

Instead
of a gunshot, there was a loud thump. When I finally opened my eyes, the man
had been tackled by two huge men who were both trying to wrestle the gun away
from him. A shot fired out, then two. I could see the cold-eyed man pulling
himself out from under his dead attackers, but I didn’t hesitate this time. I
launched myself into the elevator and hammered the ground floor button.

 

Every
single moment that happened from there was just a random piece of my memory,
trying to fit in to the puzzle that led me to where I was now. On a plane,
heading for a completely new life somewhere in France. As far as the rest of
the world was concerned, there was no more Amira Jackson. The news said I died
in that hotel hallway, and witness protection was going to make sure I
stayed
dead.

 
 
 
 

 
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Chapter 2

 
 
 
 

The flight attendant’s voice came over the PA system, announcing our
arrival at Paris-Charles De Gaulle. I frowned, not sure whether I should wait
until Agent Wilson came to help me out, or if I was to wait once I got inside
the airport. I could barely remember anything the grumpy government worker had
told me right before we boarded on the plane. The plane descended slowly,
tilting downward and causing my stomach to twist and turn on itself. I had
sworn up and down my whole life that I would never fly in a plane, yet there I
was doing just that. I was not a happy camper.

 

I nearly grabbed the brown paper bag in front of me, watching
helplessly as the ground came rushing up at us, the city of Paris lighting up
before my very eyes. After the feeling subsided, I wondered what time it was
there in France. I never thought I would need to know that kind of thing, at
least not before I was put under witness protection.

 

Unbuckling my seatbelt, I glanced up and down the long aisles looking
for Agent Wilson. He was dressed up as your typical tourist, trying to blend
in. Finally I caught sight of him, his baseball cap pulled down low over his
forehead.
Is he still sleeping?

 

I waited for most of the plane to empty before standing up to grab my
bags overhead. Agent Wilson was still in the exact same position, not moving.
Even though I knew I shouldn’t worry, dread was starting to unfurl deep in my
stomach. I’d been so paranoid and full of anxiety lately. This whole thing had
taken over my life in more ways than one.

 

I quietly walked up to the man responsible for my safety and tapped
him on the shoulder to see if he was awake. He tilted his head back and glanced
up at me from under his hat.

 

“Have a nice flight?”

 

I pursed my lips and scoffed, knowing damn well he was being
completely sarcastic to me.

 

“Well, we didn’t die, so that’s always a plus.”

 

My agent’s face was grim, nodding. “Too true, too true. Let’s keep the
record going, shall we?”

 

He escorted me off the plane and we walked into the booming airport,
filled with thousands of people running back and forth speaking a language I
couldn’t begin to decipher. I sighed, already missing home.

 

We picked up the rental car that the U.S. government happily paid for
on my behalf and took off into the night. I knew my body was tired, but my mind
was buzzing full of hectic frenzy. I wasn’t willing to sleep anytime soon.

 

It didn’t take long for us to arrive at the small dingy hotel we were
staying at for the night, and I was finally looking forward to relaxing. When
we picked up the
single room key,
I
was quickly changing my mind. The whole lack of privacy thing is a
big
issue for me.

 

“I know what you’re thinking Miss Jackson,” Agent Wilson said in a low
tone, “but there’s nothing we can do. I have to keep a watchful eye over you,
and I can’t do that if you’re in the next room over. As awkward as this will
be, just know that I am trying to be professional here.”

 

I rolled my eyes at the use of my new pseudonym. Of course they would
choose some stupid new name for me. Bree Jackson. I spent a few days fuming
over that, once the detective that headed my case gave over my new identity
file. Flipping through it made me feel like I was on the outside of my life,
looking in. Of course I was grateful for the help—and for being under the
protection of Agent Wilson—but all I really wanted to do was to get my mind off
of everything that had gone down over the past few months.

 

“I understand. I just hope that you understand that you’re going to be
sleeping on the couch,” I replied, shrugging. Professional or not, I wasn’t
giving up the bed.

 

The room was in much better condition than the outside of the place.
There were clean linens on the bed and newer furniture throughout the small
space. I dumped my bag and suitcase onto the queen-sized bed and stretched my
back. Sitting on that long plane ride and then immediately hopping into a car
was not doing me any favors.

 

Agent Wilson went ahead and set up his part of the room, fluffing up
the throw pillow on the couch before he laid out.

 

“I suggest you go ahead and get some rest. It won’t be that long of a
trek to our destination, but I know how bad jet lag affects most people the next
day. You’re probably up and raring to go at the moment, but before you know it
it’ll be daylight and you’ll be tired and pretty cranky,” he insisted, folding
his arms behind his head and closing his eyes.

 

I crossed my own arms and sat down on the edge of the bed, gritting my
teeth. “You have no idea
what
I’ll be
like, so don’t pretend that you know me. Because you don’t.”

 

Agent Wilson opened one eye, and regarded me for a moment before
smiling. “You say that now Miss Jackson, but believe me you’ll be hating life
in the morning. Why don’t you just make my life easier and go ahead and get
some sleep?”

 

I huffed, pursing my lips. Agent Wilson had a bad habit of talking
down to me. I got up to get myself a glass of water, firing off one last little
shot. “I’ll go to sleep when I’m ready, thanks.”

 

I frowned, hoping that I wouldn’t have to deal with Agent Wilson too
much longer. He was a nice guy and all, but he was a little bit of… a dick.

 

After a few minutes the soft snoring coming from the couch told me he
was out.
Well, so much for being on the
lookout and whatnot
.

 

I must have finally fallen asleep at some point in the night, drifting
in and out of it. Before I knew it was daytime already, and Agent Wilson was
dressed and waking me up.

 

"Okay Miss Jackson, it's time to get on up. We have
some work to do. It's not gonna take that long to get to our location, but
before we do that I just want to make you aware that we are under surveillance.
I don't want to scare you or anything, but it's what we do. We have to make
sure that everything is set up the way it's supposed to be. So what's gonna
happen is when we go into the location—and I will give you more information
about that on the way there—I will be going in first. And then after I ensure
that the area is clear and safe for you, I will be bringing you in after me.
It's that simple. Got it?"

 
 
 

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