A Secretive Deal with My Billionaire Boss novel Chapter 72

Chapter 72

Madison

I stepped out of the sleek black car, smoothing down my emerald silk dress, which clung elegantly to my curves. Tilting my head back, I took in the impressive glass and steel structure looming before me -a modern architectural masterpiece that seemed to pierce the evening sky. The building’s illuminated facade cast a soft glow across the polished marble steps leading to its entrance.

Alexander emerged from the other side, adjusting his perfectly tailored suit with practiced ease. His presence commanded attention without effort, and several heads turned as we approached the

entrance.

“Remember,” he murmured as we walked, maintaining a professional distance. “Andrew likely drugged me that night. Keep your eyes open.‘

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“Should I be worried about my drink too?” I kept my voice low, matching his discretion.

A ghost of a smile played at his lips. “I’ve arranged for Leo to watch the bartenders. Just focus on being my capable assistant who’s here to take notes.”

The doorman checked our invitations, and we entered the grand foyer. Crystal chandeliers cast rainbow prisms across marble floors, and the scent of money hung thick in the air – designer perfumes, aged whiskey, and fresh–cut flowers. The opulence was almost overwhelming, but I kept

my composure.

Inside, the party was in full swing. Men in sharp suits and women in glittering gowns mingled with practiced ease. Some held flutes of champagne, their laughter punctuating the low hum of conversation. Others lounged on velvet sofas, engaged in hushed discussions that I could only assume were about multi–million dollar deals.

“Look at them,” I whispered to Alexander, “all pretending they don’t care how much everything

costs.”

“That’s because they don’t,” he replied with a smirk. “When you have more money than you can spend in a lifetime, you stop counting.”

A waiter approached with a tray of champagne glasses, navigating through the crowd with practiced grace. Alexander smoothly intercepted him, plucking two glasses from the tray. He handed one to me, leaning in close to whisper in my ear.

“Don’t drink it,” he murmured. “Just hold it for show. It makes you look more comfortable.”

I nodded, gripping the delicate stem of the glass, the bubbles fizzing softly. As I raised it slightly, I caught the faint scent of the champagne, a blend of crisp citrus and yeasty bread.

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Glancing around the room, I saw how everyone else held their glasses with nonchalant elegance, the perfect accessory to their polished personas.

I scanned the room for Andrew Russell. It wasn’t hard to spot him – he was holding court near the grand piano, surrounded by a sycophantic crowd hanging on his every word. He looked every bit the successful real estate mogul: tall, confident, and dressed to impress.

“Mr. Knight,” Andrew called out when he saw us approach. “So glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Alexander replied smoothly. “Congratulations on your latest

success.”

Andrew’s face lit up with practiced charm. “Our mutual success, you mean. Couldn’t have done it

without Knight Industries.”

The crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow across the marble floors as guests mingled around us. I maintained my professional stance, champagne glass held delicately in hand – still full, per Alexander’s warning.

“We should discuss the new development over lunch tomorrow,” Andrew suggested, his expensive watch catching the light as he gestured. “I have some exciting plans I’d love to run by you.”

“Sure.” Alexander’s response was casual, but I caught the calculating look in his eyes. “Name the time and place.”

Andrew’s attention shifted to me, his smile widening. “Ah, Ms. Harper. Looking lovely, as always. How do you manage to keep this workaholic in line?”

I gave him my best professional smile. “Mr. Knight manages himself quite well.”

“Such diplomacy,” Andrew chuckled. “I hope he appreciates having such a capable assistant.”

Alexander’s lips quirked up slightly. “More than you know.”

“Well, enjoy the party.” Andrew raised his glass. “The champagne’s from my private collection – a 2005 Cristal. Nothing but the best for tonight’s celebration.”

“Speaking of drinks,” Alexander swirled his untouched champagne, “I heard something interesting about these high–society gatherings.”

Andrew’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh?”

“Apparently, there’s been talk about certain additions to drinks at some events.” Alexander’s voice carried just the right mix of casual concern. “Not here, of course, but at similar functions.”

I watched Andrew’s face carefully. His expression shifted from confusion to mild alarm.

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“What kind of additions?”

“Drugs, mainly.” Alexander took a calculated pause. “A friend of mine attended a business event last month. Said someone slipped something into his drink. Nasty business.”

“That’s concerning. I had no idea such things were happening.”

“Indeed.” Alexander’s tone remained light, but his eyes were sharp. “Best to be careful these days. Never know who might have ulterior motives.”

I maintained my professional stance, though inside, I was impressed by Alexander’s subtle interrogation technique. The way he planted the seed of suspicion while appearing merely conversational was masterful.

“Rest assured,” Andrew straightened his tie, “security here is top–notch.”

“I’m sure it is.” Alexander smiled, all charm and ease.

“We all need to be more careful these days,” Andrew swirled his drink thoughtfully. “The industry isn’t what it used to be. Too many newcomers trying to make their mark through questionable means.”

“Precisely why discretion is key,” Alexander’s voice dropped lower. “Best to keep this conversation between us. Wouldn’t want to alert anyone who might be implementing such tactics.‘

Andrew nodded, understanding flowing between them. “What conversation?” He winked, raising his glass. “I’m simply enjoying my own party.”

Alexander’s lips curved into a dangerous smile. “And that’s exactly why we’re still doing business,

Mr. Russell.”

I watched their exchange with carefully concealed interest, noting how they maintained their polite facades while dancing around the elephant in the room. The crystal glass felt cool against my palm as I pretended to take another sip of the untouched champagne.

“Please, enjoy yourselves,” Andrew gestured toward the crowd. “The night is young, and I hear the chef has prepared something special for dinner. If you’ll excuse me, I see the Mayor’s just arrived.”

We watched Andrew weave through the crowd toward the Mayor, his confident stride never faltering. The string quartet had shifted to a softer melody, their music floating above the steady

hum of conversation.

“He’s either an excellent actor or genuinely clueless about the drugging incident.”

“Which do you think it is?” I kept my voice low, mindful of the other guests around us.

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