A Secretive Deal with My Billionaire Boss novel Chapter 182

Chapter 182

Alexander

We moved to a more private spot near the edge of the practice green.

“So what do we know so far?” Anthony asked, leaning against his putter.

Leo sighed, frustration evident in his eyes. “Not much. No name, no contact information, just cash and instructions.”

I furrowed my brow, trying to piece together the puzzle.

“After drinking that drug–mixed drink, what happened exactly?” Leo asked, turning to me with a serious expression. “Your sex drive increased dramatically, right? What else?”

I hesitated, uncomfortable discussing the details. “Everything intensified. Like someone had

cranked

up all

my senses and desires to eleven. I couldn’t think straight. Just wanted to fuck

anything that moved.”

“And did you?” Leo pressed, his expression serious.

“No,” I lied smoothly. “I went straight to my penthouse and called Dr. Peterson. He gave me something to counteract the effects. Knocked me out for most of the night.”

Anthony raised an eyebrow. “I’m also a doctor, you know. You could have called me.”

“Peterson is my personal and family doctor,” I explained, not meeting his eyes. “He has my complete medical history. It was the logical choice.”

“That’s not the issue here,” Leo interrupted, bringing us back to the point. “The question is, did you have sex with anyone while you were under the influence? Be honest, Alexander. This is important.”

I stared at him. “Why are you asking this? Do you think I had sex with someone and forgot about it?”

“It’s possible,” Leo said carefully. “You were drugged, your inhibitions lowered. Someone could have taken advantage of that state. They might have filmed it to blackmail you later.”

The thought sent a chill down my spine. Images of Madison flashed through my mind – her soft skin under my hands, the way she’d gasped when I entered her. If someone had recorded that…

“I haven’t received any blackmail attempts,” I said firmly. “And I’m certain I went straight to my penthouse. Nothing happened.”

Leo studied my face for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. I just thought we might find answers that way. It was worth asking.”

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Chapter 182

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Anthony cleared his throat. “So what’s the plan now? Keep looking for this mysterious ‘S‘ woman?”

“Exactly,” I confirmed, relieved to change the subject. “We need to find her before she tries something else. This wasn’t random – someone targeted me specifically.”

“Any theories on why?” Anthony asked.

I shrugged. “Could be anything. Corporate sabotage, revenge, someone trying to damage Knight Industries‘ reputation.”

“Or someone with a personal vendetta,” Leo added. “You don’t exactly have a shortage of ex–lovers who might hold a grudge.”

I shot him a glare. “Thanks for the reminder.”

Leo shrugged, clearly not bothered by my annoyance. “Just stating facts. Your list of enemies isn’t exactly short.”

We started walking back toward the clubhouse, the afternoon sun warm on our backs. Something had been bothering me since our confrontation with Tyler. His story seemed too neat, too rehearsed.

“I’ve got some doubts,” I said suddenly, stopping in my tracks.

Leo turned to face me. “About what?”

“Tyler’s story. It doesn’t add up.” I ran a hand through my hair, frustration building. “The whole thing feels like a setup.”

“What do you mean?” Leo asked, his interest clearly piqued.

“Think about it. He claims some mysterious woman contacted him through I*******m, paid him cash, met him at a café with no security cameras, and then disappeared without a trace.” I shook my head. “It’s too clean. Too perfect.”

Anthony caught up to us, his golf bag slung over his shoulder. “What are we discussing?”

“Alexander thinks Tyler’s story is bullshit,” Leo explained.

“Not entirely bullshit,” I corrected. “But manufactured. It feels like someone coached him on exactly what to say if he got caught.”

Leo frowned, considering my words. “I tried every angle I could think of. I found footage of the bartender going to that café from other security cameras in the area, but couldn’t find the person who met him.”

“What was he wearing in the footage?” I asked.

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“Blue jacket, jeans. Why?”

“And did you see him leave? Was he carrying anything?”

Leo thought for a moment. “He had a small paper bag when he left. Could’ve been the money or the drugs.”

“Or both,” I muttered. “But we never saw who gave it to him?”

“No. The café has no cameras inside, and the angle from across the street doesn’t show the tables clearly.” Leo looked frustrated. “It’s like whoever planned this knew exactly where the blind spots were.”

I nodded slowly. “That’s my point. This whole thing feels orchestrated. The I*******m account, the cash payment, and the meeting location have no cameras. Someone created a narrative that would be impossible to trace.‘

“So what’s your theory?” Anthony asked, leaning on his golf club.

“I think we need to get more creative with our interrogation methods,” I said. “Try to ask about the dress color or what she was wearing. We can check nearby cameras or other details that might help us identify her.”

“I did ask about her appearance,” Leo pointed out, sounding slightly exasperated. “Those details aren’t exactly distinctive. It’s not like that description is going to help us pinpoint her in a crowd.”

“Maybe the best solution is to interrogate him again,” I suggested. “But this time with a fake detective. Tell him we have proof he mixed drugs in my drink, and it’s attempted murder. Threaten him with prison time. He might crack and reveal the real truth.”

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