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Chapter Fourteen
Last Updated:
2025-09-05 00:15:06
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One night with my mean billionaire boss Chapter-Forty
I spent the rest of the week at the Norman house.Steve drove me to and from work every day without complaint. He didn’t push, didn’t ask why I was sleeping in my old room again, didn’t mention the way I sometimes stared at my engagement ring weirdly. He just… was there. Quiet. Steady. Familiar.Knox didn’t call. Didn’t text. Didn’t show up.The office was a minefield.Mike kept his distance after our lunch, but I caught him watching me—concern in his eyes every time Aiden walked past my desk with that smug little smirk. Knox was a ghost: with his doors closed, endless meetings and his eyes avoiding mine in the hallways.By Friday I felt like I was coming apart at the seams.I was late.Not late-for-a-meeting late. Late-late, for my period.Five days. Then six. Then seven.I’d been irregular before—stress, grief, the chaos of moving in with Knox—but never this late. And the nausea that hit every morning, the way my breasts ached when I took off my bra at night, the bone-deep exhaustio
One night with my mean billionaire boss Chapter thirty-nine
Steve’s SUV smelled like pine cleaner and the faint trace of cigarette smoke he always tried to hide from his mom. It was familiar in a way that made my chest ache—the same scent that clung to the old Norman house where I’d spent most of my teenage years after the accident.He didn’t take me to his apartment. He drove straight to the house in the suburbs, the one his parents still lived in, the one that had been my safe place when the world fell apart at fourteen.The porch light was on. Mrs. Norman—Ellen—opened the door before we even reached it, wrapping me in a hug that smelled like vanilla and home without asking a single question. She just murmured, “Oh, sweetheart,” and led me inside.Steve carried my bag. His dad, Paul, gave me a quiet nod from the recliner, the TV flickering with some late-night news. They didn’t pry. They never had.Ellen made me chamomile tea and tucked me into the guest room that used to be mine—same pale blue walls, same quilt Lena and I picked out at sixt
One night with my mean billionaire boss Chapter thirty-eight
I didn’t go straight to the penthouse after work. I couldn’t face it—not after the day I’d had.I walked the cold streets for hours, letting the December sleet soak through my coat, watching happy couples hurry past with shopping bags and linked arms. My phone stayed dark. No texts from Knox. No calls. Just that last message from hours ago: Staying at the office tonight. Don’t wait up.As if I’d been waiting up for him like some lovesick fool.By the time I finally keyed myself into the penthouse, it was past eleven. The lights were low, the city glittering beyond the windows like a mockery of everything I thought I’d have when I signed that stupid fake-engagement contract.Knox was home.He stood in the kitchen, back to me, pouring scotch into a crystal glass. His jacket was gone, sleeves rolled up, the muscles in his forearms tense as he gripped the bottle harder than necessary. He’d heard me come in—he always did—but he didn’t turn around right away.“You’re late,” he said finally,
One night with my mean billionaire boss Chapter thirty-seven
I didn’t go back to my desk after the break-room disaster. I couldn’t.I hid in the ladies’ room for twenty minutes, splashing cold water on my face until the red blotches faded and I looked almost human again. My phone buzzed twice—Lena asking if I was alive, then Knox with a single word: Boardroom.Of course there was a board meeting. There was always something that required the perfect fake fiancée to sit prettily beside the CEO and pretend we were madly in love.I fixed my lipstick, straightened my blazer, and walked into the executive conference room like I hadn’t just seen a ghost.Everyone was already seated. Knox at the head of the table, Aiden to his right looking smug, the usual gray-haired board members scattered around. And there—directly across from my usual chair—was Mike.He stood when I entered, like some old-fashioned gentleman. A few heads turned. Knox didn’t stand. He didn’t even look up from his tablet.“Good morning, everyone,” I said, voice steady by some mirac
One night with my mean billionaire boss Chapter thirty six
***Rosalie*** I stood in the middle of Knox’s office feeling like a criminal on trial. The embezzlement sting had worked perfectly last night. I’d sat alone at my desk until 2 a.m., pretending to reconcile accounts while the IT team traced every keystroke. They caught the thief red-handed. Case closed. I thought that would be the end of it. I was wrong. Aiden leaned against the glass wall with his arms folded, watching me the way a cat watches a bird with a broken wing. Knox sat behind his desk, elbows on the polished mahogany, fingers steepled. He hadn’t looked at me once since I walked in. “So let me get this straight,” Aiden drawled. “The money only moved when Rosalie was the sole person logged into the bait account. Funny coincidence.” My stomach lurched. “I was the bait. That was the entire point.” “Convenient bait,” Aiden said. “Almost like someone knew exactly when the trace would be active.” I turned to Knox, waiting for him to shut this d
One night with my mean billionaire boss Chapter Thirty-Five
“I didn’t see much of you at the party,” I said to Steve as I looked over at him. His nose is scrunched up in that way it usually is whenever he’s kind of shy. “Yeah, you were kind of busy with your guests.” “So? You could have hung around more.” “I guess.” He swiped at the back of his neck. “Sorry.” The car became silent once again, aside from the occasional rumble of the engine. “Are you happy?” He asked suddenly. “Huh?” “Knox Carter. Does he make you happy?” “He does,” I said with a smile. “That’s good then.” He said with a tone that sounded like he was trying to convince himself. The car came to a stop right in front of my building. I unbuckled my seatbelt and fully turned to him. “Thank you,” I whispered. “You’re welcome,” he mumbled back. “How’s your girlfriend doing?” I asked. “What girlfriend?” He replied surprised. “Yours.” “You know I don’t have any.” “Which is exactly wh
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