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Chapter 27: The Plan B
Last Updated:
2025-09-04 08:39:04
Latest chapter
The Baker's Billionaire Chapter 29: Wildfire, Ignited
MARIONI stared at her, in just a black oversized T-shirt with the inscription ‘DON’T STARE AT MY BOOBS’, but I did. Her nipples protruded from the shirt, hard like diamonds. Hmmm… no bra. They were directed at me as if they needed me to touch them.“Let me in, Wildfire.” She was anticipating whether to close the door or open it wide, from the look in her eyes. “I came with food”. I added with a faint smirk, showing her the paper bag of food.“From where?” she queried, shifting lightly on her feet.“Nobu.” I chose there because the first time we met, it was there, so I knew she loved their meal.“Hmmm…”. With that sound, she opened her door for me to enter. Finally, the food did it then.Demetria’s apartment was a cozy blend of modern functionality and personal charm—a space that reflected someone who spent most of her life in the kitchen, yet craved comfort and a little bit of style. The living room was modest but inviting, with a soft gray sectional couch that had clearly endured co
The Baker's Billionaire Chapter 28: Uninvited
DEMETRIAThe sky had already begun to blush into shades of orange and pink. Another long day, but we’ve got a lot to do before the gala on Friday. It is the day. The event. The Whitfields.I slipped off my apron and set it on the counter, exhaling slowly. My hands smelled faintly of cinnamon and butter, reminders of the cookies I’d perfected for Mrs. Whitfield’s event. They were simple, but perfection often lived in the simple things. At least, that’s what I told myself when I started to overthink. We’ve started preparations already. The gala is in three days. Just around the corner. The pies and cakes are next.“Brielle,” I called as I entered the kitchen. She appeared, hair tied back, flour dusted across her cheek. “Have you started with the batch of mini fruit tarts and lemon meringue bites?”“Yeah, I should finish with that tomorrow.” She said as she showcased what she has done so far. “Good.” I smiled cheerfully. Impressed with it. She nodded and continued.Seeing Matthew and o
The Baker's Billionaire Chapter 27: The Plan B
MARIONBzzzztBzzzztBzzzztLooking at the nightstand beside the bed, my phone vibrated with an incoming call from the front desk. “Yeah?” I grunted, voice scratchy from my sleep.“Good Morning, Mr. Whitfield. Please, Miss Paula is here to see you.” I glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand, 6:11 am. “Allow her up,” I said flatly before ending the call.In the bathroom, I relieved myself, then paused in front of the mirror. My reflection stared back, sharp yet unruly. I needed a haircut and my beard trimmed. ASAP.As I descended the stairs, the elevator slid open. Paula entered hurriedly into my penthouse, heels clacking the marble floor as she walked, looking dishevelled like she had been drowned. I stood at the end of the stairs, arms folded against my bare chest, and I stared at her. Waiting.“Ba- sorry, Marion, can we talk?”. Seconds passed, waiting. She huffed. “Okay, can we talk about the breakup?”“I said what I meant on the phone the last time we spoke. What now?”“Tha
The Baker's Billionaire Chapter 26: The Date
DEMETRIA“A date?” I asked, arms folded, pinning him with a stare.“Yes. Wildfire. A date.” His lips curved into a smile, and damn it, my pussy reacted before my brain could catch up. I shook my head hard.“If you think you’re going to blackmail me now that the gala’s a go—just to make me go out with you—then I’ll decline, Marion.” My words came out clipped, sharp.“And why would I do that?” He tilted his head, a smirk carved on his mouth like it belonged there.I shrugged. “Just because you’re capable, Marion Whitfield.”“Hmmm. I see.”He slid his phone out of his suit pocket, tapping the screen like I wasn’t even there. Focused. Effortless. And yet, I found myself watching him and admiring him.His hair was slightly overgrown, strands brushing his thick brows as though he’d run his hand through it too many times. His blue-black three-piece suit fit like it had been stitched onto him, sculpting broad shoulders and that lean, impossible frame. And then there was the diamond-crusted wa
The Baker's Billionaire Chapter 25: The Second Tasting
MARIONThe jet wheels screeched against the tarmac, a smooth landing slicing through the calm of the L.A. morning. From my window, Los Angeles brightened like a canvas washed in gold. The sky stretched wide and endless, a pale blue brushed with faint wisps of white clouds, while the sun cast a warm glow that shimmered across the skyline.The air outside looked crisp and clear, the kind of morning where the city felt alive and buzzing, already thrumming with energy even before nine. No haze today—just sharp light, palm trees swaying lazily, and that endless California brightness. Perfect weather for beginnings. Yes, perfect weather for facing the woman who had somehow made me agree to a second tasting.I straightened my cufflinks, rolling my shoulders back. Business first. That was the rule. The casino in Vegas had drained a piece of my weekend, but that was part of the empire, part of what I was built for. Now, it was time to switch gears.The bakery.I let the word settle, almost amu
The Baker's Billionaire Chapter 24: When The Water Isn't Enough
DEMETRIAThe bell above the bakery door jingled as my last customer left, arms full of pastry boxes tied neatly with gold string. I exhaled, leaning against the counter, the weight of the day finally settling into my bones. Saturdays were supposed to feel lighter, but with Monday looming ahead, it didn’t. At least Anastasia should be in any moment now—I needed the distraction. Plus, we closed at 4:00 p.m. on Saturdays, and Lord knows I was ready to lock up and sprint home.The first tasting with Mrs. Whitfield had gone better than I expected. She’d been warm, gracious even, which honestly shocked me. The woman radiated the kind of elegance that made you feel like you should stand straighter, maybe even wear pearls to speak to her. And then—like it was nothing—she handed me a thousand dollars, just as a small compensation. My jaw had almost dropped when I opened it in my car, but I held it together. Barely.But of course, leave it to her son, Marion Whitfield, to complicate things. He
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