The Greek Billionaire's Counterfeit Bride Read Online Free
Author: Lara Hunter, Evelyn Troy
she’d led after going straight, seemed to constantly remind her that she was nothing and nobody; living paycheck to paycheck and having to budget her spending, having to answer to a faceless company in the form of her supervisor, had chafed after she’d tasted the freedom of relative wealth and independence. Surely you can get in touch with someone running a new game, Eva thought; maybe something that was a little less obvious than what Jared had been doing. She sighed, remembering the terror she’d felt at the idea of going to prison for fifteen or more years on fraud charges. Sleep on it; it’s not like you have to wake up early tomorrow.
Reluctantly, accepting the fact that she had nothing to do but go home, Eva turned away from the bland landscape she’d pretended to peruse. As she started towards the building’s entrance, two men and a woman walked past her. “…and she’s trying to get it sold,” the woman explained.
“That place? She’ll move it when an earthquake takes this building out,” one of the men countered.
“Can’t fault her for trying,” the other man said. “She’s got a catered reception setting up as we speak.” Eva slowed slightly, intrigued.
“It’s a penthouse apartment in an office building,” the first man said. “Who’d want to live above a corporate complex?”
“It’s a pretty sweet space—have you been up there?” the woman shook her head and Eva slowed even more, carefully making sure she didn’t obviously stop, and inching back in the direction of the threesome.
“Sweet space or not, she isn’t going to get it sold,” the first man said, tsking.
“It’s probably worth checking out later,” the second man concluded. “If nothing else, the food and drink will be worth it.” Eva hung back when one of the members of the group glanced in her direction. Open house, huh? Eva ducked into a bathroom and thought about the fascinating bit of information. The skyscraper that housed the DigiFinancial call center held another twenty or more companies, most of them large and wealthy; the penthouse suite would undoubtedly be a sight to see. Worth ten million, maybe more…they’ll be pulling in millionaires, maybe billionaires… an idea began to crystalize in Eva’s mind. If nothing else, the view from the top floor would be worth seeing; and maybe she’d gather a few names to file away mentally, in case she did decide to go back to the game.
Eva glanced down at the “lucky bamboo” she’d taken off of her desk when she’d left. Make your own luck; obviously this didn’t do a damn thing for you. She dropped the plant, pot and all, into the garbage, and looked at herself in the mirror. At least I got to keep some of the clothes, Eva thought, smoothing her skirt against her legs. She’d dressed better than more than half of the women on the call center floor for the entire time she’d been working; while the police had confiscated some of her ill-gotten gains as evidence of the kind of money Jared’s team had been making, she’d managed to convince the investigators to let her keep the least expensive items. Eva turned slowly in a circle, checking the fall and lines of her clothing. If she moved quickly and spoke firmly enough, she thought she could pass.
Eva touched up her lipstick and pulled her dark brown hair back into a bun, securing it with an elastic from her purse along with a couple of spare bobby pins. She took another look at herself in the mirror and nodded to her reflection before turning to the door.
She hurried through the lobby towards the elevators, keeping her gaze straight ahead of her. It wouldn’t be the first time—nor the tenth—that she had talked her way into a place she wasn’t technically supposed to be; she knew how to get through most levels of security, as long as they weren’t expecting her. As Eva waited for the elevator to arrive, she began to put together a cover story. Why
Reluctantly, accepting the fact that she had nothing to do but go home, Eva turned away from the bland landscape she’d pretended to peruse. As she started towards the building’s entrance, two men and a woman walked past her. “…and she’s trying to get it sold,” the woman explained.
“That place? She’ll move it when an earthquake takes this building out,” one of the men countered.
“Can’t fault her for trying,” the other man said. “She’s got a catered reception setting up as we speak.” Eva slowed slightly, intrigued.
“It’s a penthouse apartment in an office building,” the first man said. “Who’d want to live above a corporate complex?”
“It’s a pretty sweet space—have you been up there?” the woman shook her head and Eva slowed even more, carefully making sure she didn’t obviously stop, and inching back in the direction of the threesome.
“Sweet space or not, she isn’t going to get it sold,” the first man said, tsking.
“It’s probably worth checking out later,” the second man concluded. “If nothing else, the food and drink will be worth it.” Eva hung back when one of the members of the group glanced in her direction. Open house, huh? Eva ducked into a bathroom and thought about the fascinating bit of information. The skyscraper that housed the DigiFinancial call center held another twenty or more companies, most of them large and wealthy; the penthouse suite would undoubtedly be a sight to see. Worth ten million, maybe more…they’ll be pulling in millionaires, maybe billionaires… an idea began to crystalize in Eva’s mind. If nothing else, the view from the top floor would be worth seeing; and maybe she’d gather a few names to file away mentally, in case she did decide to go back to the game.
Eva glanced down at the “lucky bamboo” she’d taken off of her desk when she’d left. Make your own luck; obviously this didn’t do a damn thing for you. She dropped the plant, pot and all, into the garbage, and looked at herself in the mirror. At least I got to keep some of the clothes, Eva thought, smoothing her skirt against her legs. She’d dressed better than more than half of the women on the call center floor for the entire time she’d been working; while the police had confiscated some of her ill-gotten gains as evidence of the kind of money Jared’s team had been making, she’d managed to convince the investigators to let her keep the least expensive items. Eva turned slowly in a circle, checking the fall and lines of her clothing. If she moved quickly and spoke firmly enough, she thought she could pass.
Eva touched up her lipstick and pulled her dark brown hair back into a bun, securing it with an elastic from her purse along with a couple of spare bobby pins. She took another look at herself in the mirror and nodded to her reflection before turning to the door.
She hurried through the lobby towards the elevators, keeping her gaze straight ahead of her. It wouldn’t be the first time—nor the tenth—that she had talked her way into a place she wasn’t technically supposed to be; she knew how to get through most levels of security, as long as they weren’t expecting her. As Eva waited for the elevator to arrive, she began to put together a cover story. Why
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