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CHAPTER 73
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2025-09-25 17:35:30
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A private deal with the billionaire ceo CHAPTER 73
Damon didn’t like the idea of going out in public. I could see it in the way his jaw ticked when I first suggested it, the subtle narrowing of his eyes like I’d just asked him to rob a bank instead of have dinner. I couldn't blame him though. I wasn't asking for a regular date. I wanted us to go to a carnival.“You’re serious,” he muttered, arms crossed over his chest as we left the cafeteria.“As a bullet,” I said, deliberately light. “Come on. We deserve a night out. Something normal for once.”“Normal,” Damon repeated, like the word was foreign on his tongue.“Yeah, you should try it sometime. It won’t kill you.”The faintest curve touched his lips. “You say that, and yet every time you drag me somewhere, trouble follows.”“That’s because you’re too serious to notice the fun,” I shot back, smirking up at him. “Come on. The carnival won't be here after tomorrow and who knows when they'll come back.”He gave me a long look, one of those heavy ones that made my stomach flip before sig
A private deal with the billionaire ceo CHAPTER 72
Halstrom’s office smelled faintly of old leather and the faint tang of cigar smoke. He sat behind his massive desk, polished oak reflecting the morning light. His smile was sharp, too satisfied for my liking, but the words he offered were smooth enough.“Well done,” he said, steepling his fingers. “You handled yourselves with precision. The goods are ours, and there weren't any casualties. That's all that matters.”Damon leaned forward slightly, his voice calm but edged. “And Santorini?”Halstrom’s smile didn’t falter. “He won’t be able to do much at this distance. He can't cause that much trouble from so far away. But I'll keep some light surveillance on him in case something comes up.”I watched Damon’s jaw tighten. He didn’t buy that for a second. Neither did I. But Halstrom just waved it off, already onto the next topic.“As a bonus, you won’t have any assignments for a week,” he said, as though granting us a luxury. “Get some rest. You’ve earned it.”Rest. The word itself felt un
A private deal with the billionaire ceo CHAPTER 71
Damon’s mouth was still on mine when the world fell away. His hands were warm on my waist, anchoring me as though I might vanish, his lips were demanding yet careful, coaxing rather than consuming. Every nerve in my body lit up at once, and yet there was a softness beneath it all, a reverence I hadn’t expected.I gasped against him, fingers clutching at his shirt, and he pulled back just enough to whisper, “Tell me to stop, and I will.”The words sent heat straight through me. He was giving me the choice, though we both knew what I would say. My voice came out shaky, but certain. “Don’t stop.”Relief flickered in his eyes as hunger and something darker consumed them. Then his lips were back on mine, deeper now, his patience woven into every kiss. The tension that had lived between us for weeks unraveled in slow, deliberate threads. Every touch felt like he was promising me I wasn’t alone anymore.Our clothes found the floor in hurried, clumsy intervals, yet Damon never rushed me. His
A private deal with the billionaire ceo CHAPTER 70
I barely remembered closing my eyes. Sleep had come in broken fragments, shattered by the memory of Mrs. Clove lying lifeless on the marble floor and the heat of Damon’s hands holding me long after Santorini had tried to corner me. Even now, with the morning light seeping through the sheer curtains, my body buzzed with restless energy.For the first time since this mission began, I hadn’t slept alone. Damon slept right beside me. Not on the couch, not keeping his distance, but next to me on the wide hotel bed. His presence filled the room more than the vintage furniture, more than the carved gold fixtures on the walls.And it didn’t feel fake anymore.I sat up slowly, pushing a hand through my hair. The hotel’s luxury pressed against my senses. From the velvet drapes, polished oak floors to a chandelier whose crystals threw fractured light across the room yet beneath it all I still felt that sharp undertone of danger, like the whole place was a trap disguised in silk and marble.When
A private deal with the billionaire ceo CHAPTER 69
The cry still echoed in my ears when I saw her.Mrs. Clove lay sprawled across the velvet runner of the auction floor, her jeweled brooch crooked, her lips tinted an unnatural shade of blue. It was almost cruel how the chandeliers above blazed down on her lifeless body, their golden glow merciless in its beauty. For one horrific moment, all I could think was how wrong it looked. Death beneath crystal light, beneath the grand illusions of wealth and power.“She was poisoned!” the woman who had burst in wailed, wringing her hands. “I saw her drink the glass! And then… then she just—”Her sobs broke into incoherent noise, but the words had already spread like wildfire.My stomach turned.Around me, the murmurs rose, as others made sharp theories, colliding like sparks. Suspicion leapt from mouth to mouth. Faces turned pale, then dark with accusation.Damon’s hand closed firmly around my arm, tugging me back a step, shielding me instinctively as the crowd’s soft whispers sharpened into ba
A private deal with the billionaire ceo CHAPTER 68
Sleep never came.I spent the night tossing beneath silk sheets that felt far too smooth and far too cold for the storm building in my chest. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him. The man in white, his aura as intimidating as the first time I ever laid eyes on him. Every time I tried to breathe steady, I remembered Damon’s voice from last night, steady and final, cutting me open with his refusal to let me in.Before I knew it, dawn crept over the horizon, pale light spilling across the velvet curtains, I was wired with exhaustion and yet unable to keep still. The hotel around me felt different this morning. It felt sharper, heavier, like it knew what the day would bring. The chatter in the corridors was muted, replaced by hurried footsteps and the quick flicker of suspicious glances. Even the chandeliers that gleamed down from high arches seemed colder, as though the vintage-luxury design couldn’t mask the rot that threaded beneath it.The auction was moving closer to its climax, an
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