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63. We have four minutes

Author: Bloom_writes
last update Huling Na-update: 2026-03-05 23:13:42

Lucien wasn’t wrong.

I did need the energy.

The conference had stretched past two hours, the schedule inching dangerously close to collapse, but he hadn’t so much as glanced at me to adjust it.

From the assistant’s seat, I watched the room tilt toward him as he delivered his speech with enigmatic precision. His voice was sharp. Controlled. Confidence fitted him like a tailored glove. Every pause he made drew applause, as if they were grateful he’d allowed them to breathe between sentences.

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  • The Billionaire's Dirty Obsession   63. We have four minutes

    Lucien wasn’t wrong.I did need the energy.The conference had stretched past two hours, the schedule inching dangerously close to collapse, but he hadn’t so much as glanced at me to adjust it.From the assistant’s seat, I watched the room tilt toward him as he delivered his speech with enigmatic precision. His voice was sharp. Controlled. Confidence fitted him like a tailored glove. Every pause he made drew applause, as if they were grateful he’d allowed them to breathe between sentences.I couldn’t tell if they agreed with him or if they were just glad to be graced by his rare presence.Either way, they were hooked.I uncrossed and crossed my legs for the hundredth time, my toes buzzing painfully inside the boots.Why had I packed them?Actually, I hadn’t. Hera had. Apparently, bold boots were a “travel essential.”The only essential thing about them right now was the funeral they were arranging for my feet.I shifted subtly, pretending to adjust my notes in honor of my temporary jo

  • The Billionaire's Dirty Obsession   62. Where I can see you

    The mattress was damningly soft.That was my first coherent thought after my eyes fluttered open and my senses came to.I sank into it like I’d signed a non-disclosure agreement with luxury. For about a minute, I just lay there staring at the ceiling.The ceiling had detailing.Huh.Who has detailing on a ceiling?The room smelled expensive. Not perfume. Not air freshener. Just… expensive. Crisp. Filtered. Like the air had better credit than I did.I frowned.This was not my apartment.I pushed up on my elbows slowly, eyes sweeping over the room. Floor-to-ceiling windows covered with heavy drapes. Furniture that looked like it had never met a scratch in its life.Oh.OH.I was in New York.The remnants of sleep cleared immediately.I lunged for my phone on the stand. The screen lit up and I conveniently ignored the numerous notifications on the home screen.9:52 a.m!A chill slithered down my spine.There was a breakfast meeting this morning. One I may just be late for.Holy crap!I s

  • The Billionaire's Dirty Obsession   61. CEO and COO

    “Hallmark. Velvet. The Pitcher. Put them on your list,” Hera said, ticking them off on her fingers. “All downtown and staffed with dangerously attractive bartenders you can flirt with.”With my gaze at the mirror, I capped my lip balm and ran a hand through my messy waves before turning to her.She sat at the edge of my bed, looking very pleased with herself.“Why do you think I’d entertain that idea?” I asked.“Who knows, Scar? Lucien may want to act professional,” She winked. “These are various options and it’s New York, a lot could happen.”I winced, glancing toward the door before shooting her a glare.“Oops.” She covered her mouth, knowingly. “Sorry.”Carmen was out in my kitchen. She could’ve heard that.I sighed and zipped my bag shut. I’d packed last night, but Hera — being her usual chaotic self — had barged in this morning and repacked it, filling it with clothes I absolutely didn’t need for a one-week trip to New York.I grabbed my phone from the bedside stand.The thought

  • The Billionaire's Dirty Obsession   60. Better late than never

    I stared at him Just... Stared. Stephen shifted under my stare, his head tilting slightly, but the confident smile stayed. He gestured vaguely, hands still tucked into the pockets of a tailored charcoal jacket, an expensive watch glinting at his wrist. He was dressed like he had somewhere important to be. Funny. He’d put this much effort into showing up here. My gaze dipped briefly and I fought back a guffaw. He was wearing the salary-snatching Tom Fords I’d bought him years ago — the same pair he hadn’t liked then and never wore. How convenient. Despite his attempt at composure, something was… off. He looked rough. Eyes tired. Like he hadn’t slept in days. Which made sense. I’d heard the Hartleys weren’t doing too well lately. Financial hitches. Quiet ones. He was probably going through it. “About what?” Finally, my mouth opened. My voice was a little too calm for how I felt. He removed his hands from his pockets. “Did you get...um...the message I left last night?” “Th

  • The Billionaire's Dirty Obsession   59. Can we talk?

    “We’re here, Ms. Scarlett.”Rowan’s voice cut through the static humming in my veins. I sat in the back, body wound tight as my mind betrayed me with the memory of minutes ago.I’d been so fucking close.I barely glanced at Rowan, not like he was paying attention anyway.“Thank you,” I managed, already reaching for the door handle.I stepped out and the night air hitting my skin made everything worse. My body was still charged, overheated and my nerves alive.God, I needed something. A release. I needed to get this out of my system, somehow.My feet moved fast. Too fast. As if the building had the power to put me out of my misery. Maybe not the whole building but my apartment did.Fuck. I hoped it did.I stormed inside and the doorman straightened. “Ms. Bennett—”“Martin, good evening,” I said without stopping, heading towards the elevators.He hurried after me.“There’s something for you. A man waited here most of the evening. Said he was your husband. Stephen. That was the name he g

  • The Billionaire's Dirty Obsession   58. Count.

    I turned, slowly, my palms immediately meeting the marble as that was the only thing I could brace against.Before I could steady my breath, his hand pressed between my shoulders, guiding me down until I was pinned on the island.My breath caught, my pounding pulse drowning out the quiet in the room.A sharp gasp slipped free when I felt his other hand brush my thigh as he lifted my gown from the hem, the fabric brushing my skin till it clung to my waist. Next, my panties were sliding down my legs, and I stepped out of them before I knew it.Anticipation and heat coiled tight in my spine.I couldn’t help but wonder what he’d planned to do to me. How he’d planned to punish me — torture me. The last punishment was still seared in my mind, memory fresh like I was on my knees begging for a taste of him just yesterday.His hand caressed the curve of my ass, slowly, like he had all the time in the world and then it wasn’t that anymore, but —Crack.The sound split the silence.I jerked forw

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