Chapter 2

I showed up at the penthouse at 11 pm with one beat-up duffel bag and murder in my eyes. The doorman didn’t even blink when I stormed past him. 

 Guess billionaires get whatever strays they want delivered after midnight. 

 The private elevator spat me straight into the living room where I met Alexander standing in the middle of it like he’d been waiting there the whole time. His jacket was gone now, just his shirt remained now, the sleeves of it rolled up to his elbows, forearms corded like he actually used them for something other than signing checks.

 His eyes flew to my duffel as soon as he spotted me. “That’s it?” 

 “That’s everything I own now, guardian.” I dropped the duffel on the floor with a dull thud. “Thanks to you.” 

 Alexander didn’t smile, he rarely did anyways. He just gestured to the long glass dining table where a single sheet of paper waited. “Sit.” 

 I stayed standing, who was he to tell me what to do?

 He picked up the paper anyway and started reading in that low, commanding voice that made my skin crawl. 

 “First on the list. You’re to be back to this house by midnight on weeknights, and two AM on weekends. No exceptions. You’re to check in with me every time you leave the building. You’re spending limit for the month is five thousand until you prove you can handle more. There will be no parties here and definitely no overnight guests. The housekeeper comes at seven. You will be civil. You will not trash my home. And you will not-” his eyes flicked up to stare up at me “-test me.” 

 I laughed right in his face. “You forgot the part where I roll over and beg you to give me food and bathe me.” Alexander folded the paper once, slowly. 

 “These aren’t suggestions, Noah.” 

 I stepped closer, close enough to see the faint scar on his jaw I hadn’t noticed before. “And if I say no?” 

 “You already said yes downstairs, this-” He shook the paper, “This is only the fine print.” 

 My blood boiled. I snatched the paper from him, crumpled it, and hurled it across the room. It bounced vase and rolled under the couch. “Keep your rules. Keep your money. I’m out.” I spun for the elevator. I barely made it three steps when a hand slammed the call button before I could. 

 Alexander’s body was suddenly behind me, too close, too warm, and too solid. He didn’t grab me. He just planted one palm on the wall beside my head, caging me in without touching me. 

 Move,” I growled. “No.” His voice was right at my ear. Low, rough and nothing like the polished billionaire from the earlier in the day. 

 I turned fast, back slamming against the cold wall. He didn’t step back. Six-foot-three of pure control pressed forward until the only air between us felt like it could burn. 

 “You think this is funny?” he said quietly. “You think you can keep pushing until I break?” 

 I could almost hear my heart beating in my chest. I could see the pulse jumping at the base of his throat. His eyes weren’t steel anymore. They were storm clouds. 

 I smirked, even though my legs felt weak. “Yeah. I do. What are you gonna do about it, Daddy?” The word slipped sharp and mocking. The words were meant to cut but to no one’s surprise, it didn’t.

 Something dangerous flashed across Alexander’s face. His jaw flexed. His gaze dropped to my mouth for one long second, long enough for my stomach to do flips. Then he leaned in until our chests almost brushed. “Careful,” he murmured. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.” 

 Heat pooled low in my gut. Wrong, furious and electric for all the wrong reasons. I hated how good it felt. 

 “Get the hell off me.” He didn’t move, at least not right away. For one heartbeat the only sound was both of us breathing hard in the silent penthouse. His hand was still braced beside my head. Mine was still fisted in his shirt. Then he stepped back, just far enough for me to be able to breathe freely.

 Alexander’s voice was calm again, but his eyes weren’t. “Your room is down the hall. Third door to the right. Clothes have already been prepared for you. Be at breakfast at eight or I’ll take your credit card for let’s say… a week… maybe two. Who knows?” 

 I wanted to tell him exactly where he could shove his breakfast. But instead I grabbed my duffel and stalked past him, shoulder clipping his on purpose. 

 Halfway down the hall I heard his voice call out behind me, “And Noah?” I stopped but didn’t turn. “Next time you call me that… make sure you mean it.” My fingers tightened on the bag strap until my knuckles went white.

 I didn’t answer. I just slammed the bedroom door behind me so hard the frame rattled. But even with solid wood between us, I could still feel the ghost of his body pressed against mine. 

 Fuck. 

 I dropped the duffel and leaned back against the door, chest heaving. What the fuck had I just agreed to? And why the hell did part of me already want to test every single one of those rules again tomorrow?