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The night of the century.
Last Updated:
2025-05-12 20:42:38
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The Billionaire Artist's Contract Stripper The night of the century.
The night went one quickly with King talking to almost everyone. I didn’t know he was this popular. All the time he was talking, I stood beside him, trying not to shift in these ridiculous heels that made my feet scream.I felt like a misplaced puzzle piece. Everyone else gilded around like they belonged: laughter all around gatherings, women in beautiful dresses moving from one gentleman to another. And I was just… there. Wearing a dress King picked out and pretending I knew how to breathe in it.After a while, King excused himself from me. Work call. Of course, he had said.“Five minutes,” he said softly, his hand brushing the small of my back before disappearing into the crowd.It was probably meant to be reassuring, but his absence hit like a chill. I stood still, unsure of where to go, pretending to admire the chandelier like I understood anything about crystal.A table caught my eye, small pastries arranged on it like art. I drifted over and reached for something flaky and dus
The Billionaire Artist's Contract Stripper The night event.
CAMILA . . . I stared at myself in the full-length mirror, barely recognizing the girl staring back at me. Claire fussed behind me, pinning a few loose curls and adjusting the delicate neckline of the deep emerald gown king and I picked hours ago. “You look like a dream,” she said, standing back to admire her handiwork. “Seriously, Camila, King is going to lose his mind.” I swallowed hard, my nerves tying themselves tighter inside my stomach. The dress hugged my body like it was made for me— the elegant, flowing, side slit, v back dress Mr. King had picked out for me earlier when a certain thingy had happened during the picking. Ehem. I dare not remember what happened at the dress room. Claire noticed my flushed cheeks and laughed heartily. “I see someone likes what she sees.” I do, ma’am. I most certainly liked how I was looking in the mirror. I had never worn anything like this in my life. I tugged anxiously at the fabric, trying to cover more of my leg but Claire sla
The Billionaire Artist's Contract Stripper A trip to the past, and boutique break.
CAMILA...It had been half a month since I came to King’s house. Half a month since the night he almost kissed me, half a month since Katherine and her Leonard packed up and left the next morning with barely a word.Thank God to that because I couldn’t stand her for one more day.Half a month of living in this enormous, beautiful house with just myself, King and Claire.King wasn’t much better, he only appeared for breakfast or the painting sessions, and even then, it was like being near a ghost. He was always keeping a wall between us no matter how much I tried not to think about the moment in the art room.Sometimes I caught him staring when he thought I wasn’t looking, but the second my eyes found his, he would vanish into himself again.Claire had been my only true companion, her laughter and bubbly energy filling the emptiness I was beginning to feel in my heart, but even she had other places to be. Other friends. Other life even.I was going crazy with boredom, loneliness was
The Billionaire Artist's Contract Stripper Sweet dreams…?
KATHERINE...I paced around my room with my phone pressed tightly against my ear, my voice low and furious.“I’m telling you, Camila is ruining everything,” I hissed into the receiver. “She’s a bad egg for the plan. She’s making him… different.”On the other end, my best friend, Sasha, sighed. “Then take matters into your own hands, Kat. Stop waiting around. If you want to win, you have to fight dirty. You know that.”I clenched my jaw, my nails digging into my palm. “I know. I just thought — I thought it would be easier. She’s nothing special, for god’s sake.”“Apparently, he thinks otherwise,” Sasha said, dry and cutting. “Fix it before you lose your chance.”Before I could reply, a sudden, piercing scream tore through the night air and I stiffened.“What was that?” Sasha asked.“I’ll call you back,” I muttered and ended the call without waiting for a reply.I threw the phone onto the bed and hurried out, my heart thundering but not out of concern. No. It was pure, burning curios
The Billionaire Artist's Contract Stripper Nightmare.
CAMILA...The fire was everywhere.Smoke choked my lungs, the walls cracked and blackened. I tried to find my way though the smoke to my mom or dad, but I could barely move because of the smoke and fire.I could hear Ella crying far from me and I struggled to breathe as I moved to her. The heat was unbearable, the roar of the flames louder than any scream I could muster.“Ella!” I screamed at the top of my voice. “Keep talking I’ll get to you!” I coughed in between words but luckily, my sister heard me as she kept screaming for me to locate her.I dragged her and hugged her when I got to her, keeping her close to me and trying so hard to see through the thick flame around us.Everything was burning, every freaking thing.“Mom! Dad!” I shouted, but the only answer was the creaking, crumbling groan of the house falling apart.I tried to run with my sister towards my parents room but something hot and heavy crashed down between us, cutting me off.The last thing I remembered was a pa
The Billionaire Artist's Contract Stripper A war brewing…
CAMILA...I woke up with the lingering feeling of warmth still pressed against my skin.For a moment, I didn’t know where I was, but then last night came crashing back into my mind.The painting.The apology.The kiss.Oh my freak!He kissed me!My lips tingled at the memory, and I pulled the covers tighter around myself, burying my face into the soft pillow to hide my growing blush — even though there was no one to see it.At some point last night, I must have fallen asleep in the studio, and King… he had brought me here without waking me up.Something about that made my heart ache in a way I didn’t want to acknowledge. I turned to look at the small clock on the bedside table. 10:38AM.“Shit.”I jumped out of bed, scrambling to freshen up and throw on a simple cream top and jeans. I tied my hair into a loose braid and practically sprinted toward the dining area, praying I wasn’t about to get my first official scolding for being late.As I neared the dining room, the smell of butte
The Billionaire Artist's Contract Stripper A vulnerable moment.
CAMILA . . .It was sometime past midnight when I made up my mind.The house was silent except for the soft ticking of the antique grandfather clock downstairs, each tick hammering at my nerves like a countdown to something I wasn’t ready for.I slipped out of bed quietly, pulling on a pair of socks to mute my steps against the marble floors.My heart was thundering so loud in my chest that I was sure someone could hear it through the walls.This was insane.This was stupid.But curiosity burned hotter than fear.I had to know.I crept up the main staircase, wincing at every tiny creak. As I came face to face with the door everyone has warned me not to open, my heart pounded even more louder.I hesitated, my hand hovering just inches from the brass doorknob.‘Don’t do it.’ The voice in my head screamed louder now, but Katherine’s words rang just as strong:“You want the truth? You’ll find it there.”I closed my eyes and sucked in a breath.Then, with trembling fingers, I gripped t
The Billionaire Artist's Contract Stripper “If you don’t stop digging…”
CAMILA ... I sat stiffly on the tall wooden stool, trying not to fidget under the heavy gaze of the man in the room. King. The studio was cold, the kind of cold that settled into your bones and made you feel like you were sitting naked even though I had a thin robe wrapped around me. I shifted my shoulders awkwardly, but his voice came fast, low and commanding. “Don’t move.” I froze instantly, swallowing down the shiver creeping up my spine. “Chin slightly higher,” he said, circling me like a predator sizing up its prey. “Relax your fingers. Tilt your head.” His commands were sharp and emotionless. Like I wasn’t a person at all, like I was just a shape to be captured on canvas. I watched him for a moment, the way his brow furrowed as he painted. His hands moved fast, like an expert, as if he’d done this a thousand times. Maybe he had. The silence stretched so long it became unbearable. “King,” I said carefully, “what happened to the girl before me?” He didn’t answer, o
The Billionaire Artist's Contract Stripper Cookie thief.
CAMILA . . . “—What do we have here?” Her voice sliced through the dim kitchen like a knife… silken, sharp, and so very unwelcome. I turned slowly, the fridge still open behind me, one hand wrapped around the box of cookies like it was stolen gold. I didn’t need a mirror to know I looked guilty as hell with wide eyes and a slightly parted mouth. Katherine. She stood there in the doorway like she’d stepped out of a fashion ad. She was dressed in some slinky silk thing that didn’t look sleep-worthy but screamed of high-maintenance seduction. Her arms were crossed over her chest, one hip cocked, her eyes doing a slow drag over me from head to toe. “Stealing now?” she asked, her voice sugar-coated with sarcasm. “Didn’t take you long.” I blinked. “I wasn’t stealing. It’s a kitchen. I got hungry.” She gave a breathy little laugh. “How charming. Like a stray kitten who thinks she owns the house just because someone left the door open.” I closed the fridge softly and set the cookie
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