The Billionaire's Bunker

Noah's POV

Stepping out of the elevator onto the executive floor, I walked across plush carpeting that swallowed the sound of my footsteps. 

The receptionist looked up from her desk. Her eyes widened when she recognized me. "Noah?"

I offered her a polite smile.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, glancing at the laptop on her desk. "Today is Friday! It's your official day off."

"I need to see Mr. Sinclair. It's urgent."

Her expression immediately turned uncertain. "Oh, but he's preparing for a private meeting, and I really should inform him before..."

"I understand, but this can't wait until Monday."

Before she could finish, I headed toward the frosted glass doors leading to the executive offices.

"Mr. Harper, wait!" I heard her chair scrape against the floor, but I didn't stop. I had ninety days to prepare for an apocalypse. I couldn't afford to waste precious time waiting for an appointment.

The corridor leading to Josh Sinclair's private office was deserted. I walked straight to the doors, knocked twice, and waited. "Come in."

I pushed the door open.

Josh Sinclair stood beside the floor-to-ceiling windows, reviewing something on his tablet. The morning light outlined his tall, broad-shouldered frame, emphasizing the sharp lines of his face. He was, as usual, impeccably dressed.

The CEO of Sinclair Group was an intimidating man. An extraordinarily handsome one, too. Unfortunately, I wasn't here to admire his face.

The sound of the door closing drew his attention. He looked up, and his brows drew together in surprise. "Noah?"

"Good morning, Mr. Sinclair."

His gaze moved from my face to the closed door behind me before returning to me.

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be off."

"I needed to see you."

He studied me for a moment.

To the original Noah, Josh had been his formidable boss whose approval he'd worked tirelessly to earn. He'd never suspected that beneath that cold expression lay feelings Josh had kept to himself for years. Of course, I'd only learned that from reading the book. Josh had never given the original Noah a reason to suspect otherwise.

"All right," Josh said, setting his tablet on the desk. "What is this about?"

I closed the remaining distance between us and stopped in front of his desk. "I've been paying attention to some of the recent atmospheric trends."

One of his eyebrows rose. "Atmospheric trends?"

"Yes. And I believe we need to reconsider our backup plans."

His expression remained unreadable. "Why?"

"Think about it. Our current preparations assume that any disruption will be temporary and localized. But what if it isn't? What if multiple systems fail simultaneously? Transportation, electricity, food distribution, communication networks—all of them?"

Josh leaned back against the edge of his desk. "That's rather an... unusual hypothetical. Why would an entire system fail?"

A faint crease appeared between his brows. I couldn't blame him. If one of my employees had appeared unannounced to discuss the possibility of a large-scale disaster, I'd have questions, too.

Fortunately, I had more than vague worries to offer him.

"Sinclair Group has extensive resources," I continued. "But most of those assets depend on functioning infrastructure. If that infrastructure collapses, our resources could become liabilities rather than advantages."

Josh's expression grew more serious. "What exactly are you proposing?"

"A fortified stronghold. Independent power generation, water purification, air filtration, medical supplies, food reserves, and enough security to keep it operational even if the surrounding city becomes uninhabitable."

Josh stared at me. Then he said, very slowly, "You want me to build a survival bunker."

"A fortified emergency facility. Yes, Mr Sinclair."

He looked at me for several seconds. I maintained my composure. Inside, however, I was preparing myself for the possibility that he might have me escorted out of the building.

I couldn't exactly blame him. I was asking a billionaire to invest a considerable amount of money in preparing for a disaster I couldn't publicly prove was coming.

But I needed Josh's resources, and I needed them quickly.

"I've considered the costs," I assured him. "We can repurpose some of the existing warehouses on the outskirts of the city. With structural reinforcement, independent utilities, upgraded security, and sufficient supplies, it could serve as a secure fallback location."

Josh folded his arms. "And what exactly are you expecting this facility to protect us from?"

There it was. The question I couldn't answer honestly. I couldn't tell him that ninety days from now, a catastrophic heat wave would devastate the world before temperatures plunged into a deep freeze. And I certainly couldn't tell him that I'd learned all this from a novel. Not yet.

"I don't have a definite prediction," I said carefully. "But the potential consequences of a prolonged disruption are severe enough to warrant preparation."

Josh fell silent. His gaze remained on my face, searching for something I couldn't identify.

I wondered what he saw. A brilliant employee who'd suddenly developed an unhealthy obsession with disaster preparedness? Or someone who simply needed a nap or a straitjacket?

Whatever his thoughts, he didn't say it out loud. Instead, he let out a quiet sigh and ran a hand through his dark hair. "If anyone else walked into my office and proposed building a doomsday bunker without convincing evidence, I'd think they have a screw loose somewhere."

I swallowed hard. "Oh. Do you think I have a screw loose?" The question escaped before I could reconsider it. 

For a brief moment, Josh's expression changed. His gaze lingered on me, and something softened behind his stoic expression. "No, Noah."

My heart gave an unexpected little thump. For a moment, I couldn't think of a response. 

Then his expression settled back into its usual composure. "You've been a valuable employee, and I trust your judgment enough to give this proposal a fair assessment."

Relief washed through me. "Thank you, Mr. Sinclair."

"Don't thank me yet. I expect a proper assessment of the property, a budget, and a detailed proposal outlining the facility's requirements."

"Of course. I already have that with me."

His brows shot up. “You do?”

“Well, a rough draft.”

He hummed under his breath as he leaned down into his chair. “You know what, Noah. There is a warehouse on the northern edge of the city that should suit your requirements. Would you like to take a look at it tomorrow?”

“Okay sir.”

He glanced at his watch before picking up his briefcase. "I'm heading out. Would you like a ride?”

I hesitated. “Miss Smith said you have a private meeting scheduled.”

“It would be postponed.” He looked straight at me. “Are you going?”

“I’d love to, Mr Sinclair.” I hurried to agree. I didn't expect him to agree to my request so easily. I'd be stupid not to take advantage of the opportunity.

Josh picked up his tablet and tapped the screen several times. "Once you've approved the warehouse, we'll determine the budget for the next phase."

“Thank you, Mr. Sinclair."

He waved a hand dismissively. "If there's a vulnerability in our operations, I'd rather investigate it now than regret ignoring it later."

That was a sensible answer. And it was precisely why Josh Sinclair had built such a successful empire. He wasn't going to blindly accept every claim I made, but he was willing to invest in preparation when the potential risks justified it.

I could work with that. A slow smile spread across my face. "Thank you again, Mr. Sinclair. You won't regret this."

"See that I don't." His tone was stern, but I caught the faintest hint of indulgence in his eyes.

With Josh's approval, I finally had a foothold. The next step was turning an ordinary warehouse into a facility capable of surviving the coming catastrophe.

I waited for him to gather his tablet and keys from the table. 

He stole a peek at me as he placed his keys into his briefcase. “You seem particularly excited about this project, Noah.”

For a second, I was at a loss for words. “I'm always interested in my work, sir.”

He didn't answer. He walked towards the door as I fell in step behind him. The author of BLEEDING FROST never mentioned if Josh worked out, but judging by those impressive back muscles, the man certainly didn't skip the gym.

The receptionist looked startled when we emerged from the office. She obviously didn't expect me to barge into Josh's office and come out unscathed.

“Postpone my meetings, Emily,” Josh instructed as he walked past her. 

I gave her a tight-lipped smile as I headed toward the elevator, already mentally drafting my supply list.

Then my phone rang.

I frowned and reached into my coat pocket. The timing was strange. I'd blocked my adoptive family and silenced their notifications, so it couldn't be one of them.

I pulled out my phone and glanced at the screen. A string of unfamiliar digits stared back at me. I stared at the number for a moment before tapping the green button and raising the phone to my ear.

"Hello?”