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Forty-Seven
Last Updated:
2025-05-27 14:33:33
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PROPERTY OF THE BILLIONAIRE Forty-Seven
Then, just as I reached the double oak giant doors to Icarus’ office, I stopped. My heart pounded. My hand hovered near the handle. This was it. The man who made me feel everything and then walked away like it was nothing.I took a deep breath, lifted my chin, and pushed the door open. There he was—behind his desk, suit jacket tossed over the chair, sleeves rolled up, forearms flexing as he signed something with sharp, practiced strokes. He didn’t look up right away. I closed the door slowly. The click echoed in the quiet room, finally drawing his gaze. And God, those eyes—stormy grey, fierce and breathtaking—locked onto me. “Jay jay,” he said, voice low, like my name still tasted sweet on his tongue. I folded my arms, narrowing my gaze."You really think you can sleep with me, then send a message through Alessio as if I’m just another one of your employees?” His jaw clenched; a vein pulsed at his temple. Still, no words. I pressed on, voice sharp and steady. “You looked me in the
PROPERTY OF THE BILLIONAIRE Forty Six
I woke to an empty bed.The sheets were still warm beside me, but the space where he should’ve been was hollow. My hand searched blindly—hoping for a shirt, a note, anything—but there was nothing.Was it a dream?I sit up in panic, but the dull ache between my thighs screamed the truth. No. Not a dream. I was sore. Naked. It had happened.Where was he? Why did he leave without a word?No note, nothing? I slide out of the bed, the cool floor sending a shiver up my spine.I reach for my robe, my fingers trembling slightly, then catch my reflection in the mirror.Disheveled hair, flushed cheeks, eyes still wide with the remnants of last night’s intensity.Who just leaves like this? No warning, no goodbye. I pull the robe tight around me, knotting it like a fragile shield against the chaos twisting inside my head.From downstairs, the scrape of boxes drags my scattered thoughts back, followed by the comforting scent of pancakes floating up the stairs.Oh God. My parents. How could I forge
PROPERTY OF THE BILLIONAIRE Forty-Five
The days blurred, then bled—weeks folding into months with no word from Icarus. I called more times than I care to admit, each ring vanishing into silence, like prayers swallowed by wind.Every month, without fail, on the last Saturday, Alessio would appear at my door. A bag of groceries. A single red rose from Icarus. And an envelope, always sealed, always wordless.No letter. No message. Just a number.The first month: 1.Then 2.Then 3.A countdown? A tally? I couldn’t tell.But whatever it was, that uncertainty haunted me more than the silence ever could.Most days, I sat by the clock, eyes fixed as if I could will time to move—faster, or not at all. Waiting. Always waiting. For Alessio. For something. For him.My mother had gone to her usual medical appointment, my father trailing her like a loyal shadow. The world outside had moved on. The scandal had faded like a bad dream. As if I had never existed at all.Icarus Industries was thriving. Busier than ever. And Layla—Layla was a
PROPERTY OF THE BILLIONAIRE Forty-Four
The car coasted to a stop, and I blinked, disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings. We weren't in the heart of New York anymore. The city's chaos had been replaced with the scent of saltwater and the distant sound of crashing waves. I turned to Alessio, but he only nodded toward the door. "We're here," he said quietly. I didn't question it. What was the point anymore? The world felt like it was spinning too fast for me to grasp onto anything. I just followed him, my feet dragging across the ground, my mind too clouded by everything to care. He led me up a stone pathway, the ocean breeze tugging at my hair. The path curved gently toward a secluded beach house, its whitewashed walls glowing in the late afternoon sun, shrouded by sea grass and weathered wood. When we stepped inside, my breath hitched. Warm light spilled through gauzy curtains, casting golden patterns on the honey-toned floorboards. The air smelled faintly of salt, like sandalwood and citrus. Worn linen couches frame
PROPERTY OF THE BILLIONAIRE Forty-Three
“From both,” he said finally, the words gravel-rough, torn from somewhere deep. Like admitting it scraped bone.“I don’t care,” I snapped, my voice a lash in the air. “Andrés? Olthur? They weren’t in the family profile I was given. And yet—your uncle, your cousin? How does that even work?”His reaction was instant, visceral—a sharp inhale, a flicker of something almost primal in his gaze. For the briefest moment, I thought he might lash out. Instead, he steadied himself, like a storm barely chained."Some things," he said, voice cold as marble, "are better left unknown."He stepped back, adjusting the lapels of his suit like armor reforged. His gaze was an iron gate slamming shut.“And whatever you’re doing—stop.” His words were final, absolute. An executioner’s decree, not a suggestion. “Alessio will come for you in an hour. And don’t forget to dispose of your device.”He paused. Not out of hesitation, but detachment. His gaze slid right past me, like I was already out of the room, o
PROPERTY OF THE BILLIONAIRE Forty-Two
His hand closed around my wrist, warm and steady, and I froze."Jay-jay," he murmured, his voice low, like I was the last thing tethering him to this earth.But I was tired of this. Tired of the games, tired of my life crumbling over and over again because of the men in my life. I wasn't going to break again. No, not again."Don't," I whispered, my voice hoarse. I pulled away weakly, but his grasp wasn't rough - it was pleading, desperate. My chest tightened, a knot of fury and longing twisting deeper than I could bear.I forced myself to meet his eyes, and it nearly unraveled me. His grey orbs blazed, molten and wild, like he had been chasing me through storms and finally caught me."You think I haven't burned enough?" His voice splintered something fragile inside me. "You think I can survive the fire you leave behind?"What is he talking about?"Icarus-" I whimpered, his name cracking in my throat like a fracture that wouldn't heal.Then his mouth found mine.My breath seized, sharp
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