Page 38 of Conning the Billionaire
“All the ways,” she snarled at him.
“You’re angry. I understand, and I’m sorry I had to test you like that.”
“Dude, you knew so much about me that it was scary. You’d been planning to con me for weeks.”
He smiled. “Wouldn’t you rather play on my team?”
“And now you’re trying to con me again.”
“I’m not.” He raised his right hand as if he were in court. “I swear.”
“Your word doesn’t mean jack shit,” she told him. “I’ll bet you’ve conned hundreds of people with that angelic face and trustworthy smile.”
He stroked his chin. “Angelic face, huh?”
“You totally took me. I’d have to be an idiot to fall for your lies again.”
“What would convince you that this is an honest offer?”
“Let’s start with your real name and some real identification,” she spat out.
“Fine.” He reached inside his suit jacket.
No way.
The blond Italian handed Kylie his wallet and a blue US passport.
Her hands shook under their scant weight.
Kylie dropped the wallet on her thighs and went for the passport first. She leaned toward her window to see the pages better in the parking garage lights above the car.
She’d never seen a real passport before, but the thick paper pages inside the silver booklet had a faint silvery hologram embossed on the paper.
If it was a counterfeit, it was first-rate.
The guy’s picture was right there on the info page, along with his name.
Micah Ignatius Shine.
Well, he was definitely Catholic with a middle moniker like Ignatius.
And he’d been born in Brooklyn, New York.
She looked over at him. “You don’t sound like you’re from Brooklyn.”
He shrugged and said, “Ya think I should sound like I’m from Brooklyn?” in a perfect Brooklyn accent.
“Damn, you’ve got that down.”
He said in his usual non-accent, “It takes effort to contain it.”
“I’ll bet.”
And yeah, it figured that this guy was a benny. “You still live in New York?”
“Check the other IDs.”
She went through his wallet.
