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2026-07-19 00:25:57
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Touched by the Billionaire, Owned by the Devil 58
The metal shelving units stretched into the dimly lit corners of the sub-basement, creating narrow aisles that blocked the harsh overhead lights. Dust coated the concrete floor, undisturbed except for the tracks of my boots. My hands gripped the edge of a heavy cardboard box, the rough edges biting into my palms. Pulling it off the top shelf required a deep breath and a sharp pull from my lower back. The muscles in my spine protested, a dull ache radiating down to my hips while my breath came in shallow, uneven gasps. I wiped a bead of sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand, my fingers trembling slightly from the exertion. Setting the box on the rolling cart, I stepped back and leaned against the cold cinderblock wall. My chest heaved, pulling in the stale air while my heart hammered a steady rhythm against my ribs. Closing my eyes, I let my head fall back against the rough concrete. The basement was completely silent, save for the low hum of the building's ventilation syste
Touched by the Billionaire, Owned by the Devil 57
"I told you I have it by Friday," Shane shouted into the phone, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the plastic receiver.My hands paused on the kitchen knife, the blade hovering over a half-chopped onion. The apartment walls felt too thin, vibrating with the harsh edge of his voice while I forced my breathing to stay steady."No, you cannot send someone to the house," he continued, pacing the length of the small living room. "I will bring the cash to the usual spot. Just give me until Friday."He slammed the phone down onto the base, the sharp plastic impact echoing off the bare walls. My shoulders stiffened, the cashmere cardigan pulling tight across my ribs as I watched him drag a hand through his hair."Who was that?" I asked, keeping my eyes on the cutting board while the knife resumed its steady rhythm.Shane stared at the blank television screen, his chest heaving. "Just a business associate. Someone who is getting impatient about a loan.""A loan?" I repeated, the word ca
Touched by the Billionaire, Owned by the Devil 56
The espresso machine steamed, filling the small breakroom with the heavy warmth of roasted beans while the fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. Lena stood at the counter, wrapping her hands around a ceramic mug and watching my reflection in the dark glass of the microwave. I kept my eyes fixed on the coffee maker, watching the dark liquid drip into the paper cup, my fingers curled so tightly around the cardboard sleeve that my knuckles ached. "You are going to burn a hole through that machine if you keep staring at it," Lena said, her voice quiet in the empty room. "The filter is clogged," I muttered, reaching out to adjust the plastic basket. "The filter is fine, Addie." Lena turned around and leaned against the counter, taking a slow sip of her tea. Her eyes tracked the way my shoulders hunched forward, protecting the heavy cashmere cardigan wrapped tightly around my middle. "You have been jumpy all morning. You jumped when Michael dropped his stapler yesterday, and you flinched
Touched by the Billionaire, Owned by the Devil 55
The torn pieces of paper had haunted my hands all night. Every time I closed my eyes, the sharp sound of ripping parchment echoed behind my eyelids, the gold seal splitting down the middle while Shane's breathing filled the room. My fingers kept twitching against the steering wheel of the train, phantom strips of paper stuck between my knuckles. The office doors swung open the next morning, and the fluorescent lights hit my face with a harsh, unforgiving glare. My boots dragged across the carpet while I navigated the narrow aisle between the cubicles. The cashmere cardigan Gideon had given me pulled tight across my middle, the fabric riding up with every step. My hand smoothed it down, a nervous habit that had taken root over the past few weeks. Dropping into my chair, the monitor stayed dark while my hands rested on the desk. The keyboard felt cold under my fingertips, the keys pressing back against my skin. A folded piece of paper sat next to my mouse. My name was written ac
Touched by the Billionaire, Owned by the Devil 54
The public library printer hummed, spitting out the first page while the progress bar crawled across the monitor. My fingers hovered over the keyboard to guard the downloaded PDF. The original, the heavy parchment with the actual embossed seal, was still safe, hidden in the locked drawer at home. These were just reprints. Replacements for the ones he had torn up last year. I just wanted to see my name on a paper again, to prove to myself that I still existed outside of this apartment. Warm paper slid into the tray, the smooth edges feeling like a foreign object against my skin. The scanned seal sat in the bottom corner, a blurry gray stamp validating every late night spent studying. Slipping the document into the inner pocket of my coat, the stiff paper pressed against my ribs. Feeding the next sheet into the tray, I watched the second certificate print with the same sharp precision. Tucking them all into the coat pocket, the thick stack created a heavy weight against my side. Zippin
Touched by the Billionaire, Owned by the Devil 53
The cursor blinked on the spreadsheet, a steady rhythm mocking the heavy droop of my eyelids. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, refusing to type the next row of data. The cashmere cardigan Gideon had given me felt unusually tight across my middle. My hands tugged at the hem, trying to loosen the fabric, but the soft material just pulled taut over the slight, firm curve of my stomach. Three months. The baby was growing, taking up space and draining every ounce of energy I had left. A shadow fell over the desk. Lena stood there, holding a stack of printed reports. "You have been staring at that same cell for ten minutes," she noted, tapping the paper against the partition. "The numbers just need a final check," the excuse fell from my lips automatically. "Gideon needs the coastal projections," she said, dropping the reports next to my keyboard. "He is waiting in his office." The papers felt like lead as I gathered them, the edges sharp against my skin. My palms pressed
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