I Married My Ex's Billionaire Father-Chapter 332: Collaboration

She raised her hands in surrender when she saw the look in his eyes.

He had just gone through an ordeal, had just killed someone too. He was probably feeling very emotional and reved up, she did not want to agitate him any further.

"Fine." She said, "But you must think I’m stupid to not have a backup plan incase you decide to murder me too."

Brandon’s eyes narrowed.

"What do you mean too?" He demanded.

Babydoll glanced at the crumpled body beside them and back at Brandon.

"Well," She said, "Besides the obvious, I am aware that you have a bodycount of at least three."

Brandon glared at her, opened his mouth and shut it again.

There was no point denying. If she was good as she seemed she definately knew what she was talking about.

"If you know that," Brandon growled. "How are you certain that I will not make an extra killing?"

Babydoll looked at his menacing stance and rolled her eyes.

"Because I am more use to you alive than dead." She stated like it was obvious. "Don’t you want to slay the dragon and get the princess? Only I can help you with that. I can give you Lyse."

Babydoll looked at Brandon’s face as he stared at her, contemplating, considering, making a decision.

She hoped that he made the right decison because she would hate to have to put him down, he has just began to grow on her.

She found Brandon oddly compelling.

When he had first reached out to her on the dark web for a job, she had done the background check like she would for any client.

All she had read about him pointed to an annoying mummy’s boy who had never had to struggle for anything and had been coddled all his life.

But getting to know him had been different. He had a frantic intensity that shone through his eyes and made him look like a madman.

A hot madman.

It unnerved her and it also made her ver curious about him and more than a little attracted.

It did not hurt that he was also very good looking in a crazed preppy boy manner.

She would be lying if she said that she had not considered what it would be like to have him in her bed.

Usually, she never allowed work and pleasure mix, but for him she could make an exception.

All she would need to do was get rid of his obsession to Lyse so that he could refocus that intense energy on her.

It would not be too hard, afterall Lyse was just some basic girl.

Plus, there was nothing better than a challenge. She thrived on those

This time her reward would be Brandon and together they would be like Bonnie and Clyde, just better. A lot more bloodthirsty and richer. She had a feeling that Brandon’s inheritance was way more than he let on.

She wanted it.

She wanted him too.

It was an alluring thought.

The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken threats and a strange, electric current Baby Doll was carefully nurturing. Brandon’s knuckles were white on the iron bar, but he hadn’t raised it again. He was staring at her, a predator trying to decide if a new scent in the territory was a rival or a potential ally.

"Alright," he said finally, the word rough, as if dragged from him. "Talk."

A small, triumphant smile touched Baby Doll’s lips. "The file is encrypted. Multiple dead-man switches. If I don’t check in at regular intervals, a curated package gets sent to a very persistent journalist I know. He has a thing for stories about rich boys with messy secrets."

She watched as the implications washed over him. He was trapped. Not by some prison, but by her own meticulous planning.

"So you don’t do anything funny," he said, slowly lowering the bar until it rested on the concrete with a dull clang. "Then the file disappears."

"I help you get what you want, Lyse. Once she’s yours, and the dust has settled, my contract is fulfilled. The file is gone. We walk away." She let the "we" hang in the air between them, a subtle hook.

"What do you get out of this?" Brandon asked, his suspicion plain.

"The fee I was promised. Plus, the satisfaction of a job well done." She lied smoothly. "And maybe... the pleasure of seeing your rival’s empire crumble. I do love to see the downfall of the bourgeoisie."

A flicker of something—grudging respect, perhaps—crossed Brandon’s face. He looked from Baby Doll to the unconscious woman on the floor. The immediate threat was neutralized, but the larger problem, the one that wore Levi’s face and held Lyse’s hand, was still out there, living a life that should have been his.

"What’s the play?" he asked, his voice all business. The romantic obsession was there, a thrumming engine beneath the surface, It seemed like the only thing that kept him going, his only goal.

"We don’t have much choice," she said, nudging the stepmother’s leg with the toe of her boot. "We can’t stay here." She glanced around the cavernous space. "That bodyguard will not stay knocked out too long."

"What do you suggest?" Brandon asked.

"I have a safe place we can hideout and execute our plans from."

Brandon stilled for a moment, still suspicious.

"How do I know this isn’t just another trap of yours?" he asked, taking a step back from her.

Baby Doll laughed and then walked to the unconscious body of the stepmother and rifled through her dress.

"Because if I wanted you dead," she said, her voice muffled as she searched, "I would have let her kill you."

"What’s are you doing?" He asked, confused.

"Trying to find out who you killed," Baby Doll answered. "But there’s nothing. Let’s go."

Without another word, she turned and walked towards the door, expecting him to follow. He hesitated for a beat, looking at the body on the floor, the blood on the iron bar, the chaotic scene that was his new reality. Then he followed, his footsteps heavy and decisive.