Page 45 of Conning the Billionaire
“It’s a renowned private Swiss bank. We used to use Geneva Trust, but they had internal problems and went out of business last year. It’s too bad. They were the best for untraceable transactions. Totally corrupt.”
Kylie shook her head. “Until that money is in my hot little hands, it’s probably just another scam of yours.”
Micah paused and then admitted, “Yeah, that is something I’d set up if the circumstances called for it.”
She rolled her eyes. “At least you’re honest about that.”
“But I didn’t. That money really is in an account under your control.”
“Whatever.”
“Change the password. Transfer some of it to your usual bank account. It’s yours,” he said.
“I’m just going to go on home. I need to change my clothes and stuff.”
“Let me drive you home. You can pick up some clothes and come back to my hotel with me.”
“It’s okay. I’ll catch a bus to my place.”
“It’s after midnight. I can drive you.” He gestured at the BMW. “You can see that I do indeed have a car.”
She looked down and to the side, staring at the asphalt under their feet. “I don’t want to put you out.”
“It’s no trouble. I was going to take the car back to where I’m staying anyway.”
“My place is out of the way.”
“Atlantic City isn’t that big. How far out of the way could it be?”
“It’s on the other side of town. You wouldn’t want to go there.”
Micah paused and stuck his hands in his pockets, biting his lip before he said, “You must know that I had you under surveillance for a while before I approached you. I know where you live.”
Kylie sucked in a big breath through her nose and then held it like she was biting her tongue before she spat at him, “Yeah, well, you shouldn’t know where I live. You shouldn’t be spying on people like that. It just means that you’re an asshole.”
Micah nodded, looking down and with his hands still in his pockets. He’d seen her climb the stairway to the second floor of the dilapidated house with the burned-out ground floor. The narrow strip of dead weeds in front was another fire hazard. No one should be living in such an unsafe tenement, and the way she wouldn’t meet his eyes looked like shame. “You’re not the first person to call me an asshole.”
“I don’t live there by choice, you know? The Tropicana won’t give me more than twenty-five hours a week because then they’d have to pay me benefits. Even with no one able to work after the pandemic, all the casinos in AC are still shit to work for. Back when the real Mafia ran them, you could get a union job with benefits, but the Russian rackets that run most of Atlantic City now don’t give a shit about workers. I never wanted to con people. I wanted to have a normal job and a normal life.” Kylie curled her hands into fists and still didn’t look up at him. “I didn’t want to end up like this.”
Micah nodded. “Times are tough. Everything has been tough for a long time. I’ve lived in worse places, and I’ve done worse things. Let’s pick up some of your clothes and stuff, and you can stay with me for the month. After that, you’ll have at least five hundred thousand dollars to get yourself started someplace else, and probably a lot more than that.”
Kylie wrapped her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at him. “How am I supposed to know you won’t try to pull a fast one again?”
“We can stop at the reservation desk, and they can tell you to whom the room is rented. Or I can show you on my account.”
She was still looking at him like he was a rat. “I can’t go back to the Borgata.”
“I’m staying at the Ocean Resort,” he told her.
“How long you been staying there?”
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he allowed one side to turn up. “Two weeks.”
She rolled her eyes. “You son of a bitch.”
“Yeah,” he said, grinning. “Not the first time I’ve been called that, either.”
“Seriously, I don’t know whether you’re for real or not.”
