Attracted to my billionaire boss

HannaI never thought I’d be back here again.Tonight the rain was vicious, lashing my skin furiously. If only it could have done the same on my battered heart.I was standing outside the bar, my bar, or at least what was left of it. Watching my most treasured possession, burn with a fire that the rain could barely put out.“Miss Hanna, if you could please step away from the wreckage. You could hurt yourself,” a firefighter said to me. I barely registered his concern.“Wreckage,” I whispered. “My bar is wreckage.”He pulled me away rather forcefully, and I merely stumbled along, numb and confused. Hurt, frustrated. Angry to tears.“What happened to my bar?” I demanded, wrenching my arm from the firefighter’s grip and finally looking at him. I paid no attention to the pity in his eyes, focusing all my energy on the anger building. “What happened to my bar?!”The man hung his head in pity. “It was an electric short circuit in your kitchens, ma’am. It spread rather quickly because, well,

AaronSomeone’s been staying here, I observed.Only heaven knew what made me leave the office this early, and go to inspect my one property that had been abandoned for years. Seriously, I even wondered why I finally decided to renovate this place. But good for me that I did, because now I discovered that I had a squatter.Or a criminal hideout, which? As I walked through the house, I was careful not to touch anything or move anything from its place. There wasn’t much by way of property here, just a couch in the living room, a dusty oven and a stool in the kitchen, and a threadbare mattress in the bedroom that had rats scurrying around inside it. I noted that the water was running though, and hot. Someone never cut the power supply to this place.I stood in the center of the bedroom briefly, wondering. At first, I figured the front door was just jammed, and it was only when I forced it so hard that it fell off the hinges that I realized it had been locked.Who lived here? No personal e

HannaOver the next five hours, I did nothing but sit at Faith’s kitchen table and think. With a pen and paper, I’d found on it. I didn’t even step inside the room I’d been offered, slightly apprehensive for multitudes of reasons. So I just sat there and thought.I gave myself at worst, at the absolute worst, three months in this house. I’d find a job as soon as possible, within the next hour if it was within the sphere of human possibility. Depending on what my first paycheck would look like and when. I’d set aside at most fifty percent and put it together until I made up to a six-month rent on a normal apartment. Then I’d divide that into two, give Faith her half and… Yeah, I had to admit that there was no way I’d successfully pay Faith back in three months. But by God, I would try.A part of my mind was acknowledging the fact that this was rather masochistic of me. After all, I made all these plans for Big Dreams, didn’t I? And didn’t they literally go up in flames?Nevertheless, w

AaronI held myself to standards that were too high. These standards were always set for me, though, right out of the womb. Looking around my office this morning, I was reminded yet again of these standards. The expensive marbletop table in front of me, the expertly polished leather seats, and the custom Persian rug that lay on the floor beneath an artisan coffee table and matching settee that were all selected for me were impersonal and removed. This office was usually my sanctuary, but today it felt a little too big.Too many folders were stacked on my table. Demolition requests, lease agreements, property tax forms, building plans, finance documents, the works. I scanned through the documents absent-mindedly, wondering if I had lost touch with my responsibilities. How long has my assistant been letting random people stay in my unoccupied properties? I would admit that with the steady growth and expansion of the business, I have had a lot on my plate, focusing squarely on the big pic

HannaI heard my belly rumble petulantly as I sat in the living room waiting for Faith to return home from work. I wanted to wait to have dinner together with her. The Dutch oven brimming with soupy coq au vin I had made a half hour ago was in the oven to stay warm, the lingering smell of caramelized garlic and onion still permeated the air.Having dinner with Faith the past couple nights has been a perfect way to wrap up what would have been an otherwise drab and heavy set of days for me. She always had a couple quips to report from her workday some related to her intense boss, the only character we both knew, as well as other random stuff. She was never opposed to fawning over the dinners I presented. But today was immediately different.Her car came to a still halt in the driveway and I heard a key turn in the door moments later. Nothing unusual yet, until I saw her countenance, that is.Faith walked into the living room with her shoulders slouched and her face bearing an uneasy e