Page 1 of The Billionaire's Final Treasure

Chapter 1

Kori

I drag myself into the posh old building I live in, one located on the better side of the city. I keep my head held high as I pass the doorman, only relaxing once the elevator doors slide shut and I’m out of his judgmental view.

We’re not really like the other people who live here. For one thing, we’re not rich. Not anymore. It’s been so long that I barely remember not having to worry about money. My mother and I still live here, the only home both of us have ever known, because of a rent control law that was repealed some time ago. We’re the very last family to cling to our better beginnings, whereas each apartment around us has gotten refurbished after the original tenant either died or got pushed out by shame, and then resold for outrageous figures we would never be able to afford.

I’m impervious to those feelings, no matter how much I’m shunned by the apartments’ new occupants. I don’t care if they’re lawyers, presidents of corporations, or Broadway stars. I have more important things to worry about than their raised eyebrows and scowls that filth like me still clings to their building.

Instead, I worry about what kind of mood is my mother going to be in. I started cosmetology school just a few months ago and it’s been the highlight of my life. It’s a short bit of freedom to learn something that I’ve been passionate about since I was little, staying up past my bedtime to style my doll’s hair. When the scholarship I’d applied for twice finally came through, it was like new life was breathed into me. The only downside to it all was that it meant leaving home for a few hours most days. And that I had to leave my mother with a home health nurse supplied by the state.

As well trained as they are, no one can put up with her mood swings for long. I’ve had a lifetime of practice and it often drives even me to the brink. I hold my breath and open our door, stepping onto the faded parquet flooring and slipping out of my coat. My mother’s sobs reverberate down the long entrance hall. As soon as the nurse sees me, she hurries out, not even bothering to give me an update.

“She’s awful,” my mother tells me, padding out of her room in a tattered silk robe. She tells me everything the nurse did wrong that day, before finally taking the time to look at me. Then she really freaks out. Her crying turns to screams as she lunges for my hair. “What have you done? Why did you cut it?”

My mother has long been obsessed with my hair. It hangs to my knees when it’s down, but I never have it down when I go out.

“I didn’t cut it,” I assure her, unwinding the massive knot from the top of my head. To be honest, I love my long, pale tresses. I wouldn’t want to cut any of it, regardless of how upset it would make my very ill mother.

I go over her medicine log, noting she refused to take two of her most important prescriptions. No wonder she’s in such a state, imagining the nurse is trying to kill her and thinking I’ve chopped off my hair. I manage to get her to eat something and coax her into taking the pill that lets her sleep without fitful dreams. I sit at her bedside, waiting until I can escape to my room and look out at the city lights, wondering if he’ll be out there again.

“You should stay home with me during the day, Kori. Like you used to,” my mother murmurs. Her eyes drift shut, but she forces them open again, waiting for me to answer.

“I need to finish school,” I explain once again. “So we can afford to live somewhere else once I get a job as a hairstylist.”

She scowls and tries to sit up, but the medication has its hold on her. “I hate the nurse,” she mumbles, finally falling asleep.

“I know,” I say.

But I hate it here more; it’s only a matter of time before they find a way to kick us out and make their profit.

In my room, I hurry onto the fire escape that I’ve turned into a balcony, complete with a chair and a potted plant. With my room lights off, the city comes alive, sparkling like it’s made of glittering jewels. I’ve lived here my whole life but so much of it is still a mystery to me. I never have time to explore, being almost as much of a prisoner to my mother’s mental illness as she is.

My eyes scan the nearby buildings, looking for the person I seek. It seems like he won’t show up for the third night in a row, and when the air turns chilly, I turn to head back in.

Then a flash of motion catches my eye. He’s back, once again dressed all in black, scaling the building across from mine as if he’s Spiderman. I know he’s breaking into apartments and stealing, but I don’t have much sympathy for my mega-rich neighbors. They don’t care at all about me, or my mother, or anyone else.

I grab my grandma’s opera glasses and hold them up, smiling after he comes into focus. His hands easily find the windowsills and balcony edges while his powerful muscles pull him up with ease. One moment he’s clinging to a sliding door, the next, he’s in the dark apartment.

I hold my breath as I wait for him to reappear, relieved I didn’t miss my one bit of excitement.

Chapter 2

Finn

There’s no reason to keep doing this. I have far more than I need in life, and yet, something’s missing. I don’t have everything I want, and yet, infuriatingly, I can’t figure out what the missing piece is.

A year before, now I was at a party being thrown by a man I despised. This man had been embezzling from the investment firm that paid him a seven-figure salary, which had caused dozens of families to lose their retirement funds. Sick of his braying laughter, I’d wandered into the private part of his lavish home and lifted a few of his watches out of spite. It had been a high like no other.

People like to say their things are priceless, but everything has a price. I sold the watches, then left the money in his hapless victims’ mailboxes in plain brown envelopes. It was a happy ending for everyone who deserved one. After doing that, I was hooked. It felt like I’d finally found a use for all these muscles, one that was far more thrilling and rewarding than pushing paper as a business executive.

Now I’m working in an upscale apartment building for the third night in a row. The original mark was one of my company’s shareholders, a man whose wrongdoings are too many to list. Normally, I wouldn’t return to the same building twice, ever, let alone the very next day. But the previous night, I’d noticed someone watching me from a building across the way.

Slipping behind some curtains, I’d found her through my binoculars, straining to see where I’d gone. She had leaned so far over the edge of her fire escape to look for me that I’d held my breath, thinking she’d fall. Long, lustrous hair fluttered all around her in the breeze and even though it should have been impossible, she seemed to find me in the dark apartment, locking her intent gaze directly where I stood behind the curtain.

And yet, no one had called the police, so I was intrigued enough to go back the next night. Seeing her peering through old fashioned opera glasses made me laugh, but I made sure to put on a bit of a show for her. As I watched her from a new hiding place, I took in the lush curves beneath her thin nightgown, which clung to her as she leaned over the edge of the fire escape.

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