Free The TROUBLE With BILLIONAIRES: Book 1 by Kristina Blake Page A

she’ll do just fine.”
     
    ***
     
                  “You know what this means?” I alluded as we headed back to the Ferrari, having said our goodbyes to Dr. Giordano.
                  “That I just made a potentially career-ending decision?”
                  “No,” I said, practically skipping across the junk-filled yard. “I get to drive!”
                  “You cheated,” he accused, throwing me the keys. “You compared me to a king.”
                  Happily, I slid into the driver’s seat. The leather was the same as the rest of the vehicle, but it felt different. It felt like power.
                  “You do have a license, don’t you?” he asked, buckling his seatbelt.
                  “Well, now that you’ve convinced Dr. Giordano to sign with Cepheus Scientific, at least one of us does,” I stated. And then I reversed backward and sped away before Rawn could ask any further questions.
                  The hum of the engine was an exhilarating reward. I had never controlled a machine quite like this before. I liked it. Having to take the bus when I returned home seemed too dull to imagine.
                  I followed the main road back towards Naples, silent as I concentrated on the darkness around us. The last thing I wanted to do was accidently run over a baby eel. Plus, the silence made the thrill of driving all the better.
                  The trouble with sports cars, however, was that they drove fast. All too soon, we approached the city lights of Naples, my adventure in the Ferrari almost over.
                  “Continue through the intersection,” Rawn told me.
                  I was confused. “I thought our hotel was to the right?”
                  “It is. But there’s something I want to show you first.”
                  The secret.
                  Obeying, I followed his directions as we cruised across the city, my speed tamed now that we were no longer within the abandonment of the countryside. Eventually, he had me park outside a rather regal building made of a dark sandy texture—almost pink in color. Tall palm trees lined the street in front of the building, centering an entrance burrowed between two marble columns.
                  “The archaeology museum? It’s closed.”
                  “To the public.”
                  “We’re the public,” I reminded him.
                  “Not tonight. One of our clients happens to be a wealthy benefactor of the museum. I had him pull some strings. He was more than willing. He’s a shipping tycoon. We helped him update his ships with a navigation system that uses satellites to show on a map where pirate ships are hiding and where they are heading. That way his ships can stay far away.”
                  The only part of that story I absorbed was pirate ships. “Wait, pirates still exist?”
                  “Sadly.”
                  “With eye patches?”
                  “Sadly not.” He held his hand out. “The keys, Madison.”
                  Reluctantly, I parted with the keys as if they were my freedom. “Remind me to tell Santa I want a Ferrari for Christmas.”
                  For the second time that day, I took my heels off, not wanting to slide on the stone steps that led into the museum. A man in a curator’s uniform let us in. Taking my hand, Rawn led me down a corridor only partially lit, leaving eerie shadows on many of the artifacts. We walked until we reached a wing guarded by metal bars that reminded me of a cage. Above the entrance was a sign: Gabinetto Segreto .
                  “The Secret Room,” Rawn translated. “Or the Secret Cabinet. Only adults are allowed past this