All Chapters of Falling For My Billionaire Revenge Daddy: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Roxy’s POVMy room looked like a battlefield.Clothes everywhere.Nothing felt right.Not mine. Not Rosie’s.Not the black skirt, not the blue one, not the damn jeans. Nothing screamed seductive, revenge-driven temptress about to set her boss on fire.Crap.Why didn’t I just tell him?“Sir, I don’t own a single decent dress.”Too late for that now.My phone rang, vibrating under a pile of failed outfits. I dug through like a woman searching for treasure and finally found it.Sarah.My stomach flipped. Should I pick up?I hesitated too long, and it rang again. Okay. Okay.“Hi Roxy, your best girl here!” Her voice was a literal sunbeam.“Hi Sarah.”Wow. I didn’t know my voice could sound that stressed until she said—“You don’t sound good, Roxy. What’s up?”I pressed my lips together and finally admitted it. “I’m in the middle of a crisis.”“What crisis? Are you okay?”I exhaled. “I got invited to dinner… but I don’t have a dress to wear.”Instant regret.“Come on, I’ll take care of you

Aaron’s POV My head was full. Everything was falling apart. Mr. Chang, the Chinese client, didn’t want to sign with Thomas. He only wanted to deal with me. Which meant either crossing Thomas or losing an important client. Bradley Pike was waiting for me at Club Vlade. The Spectrum case was going nowhere. No one wanted to talk. Not with Burke’s shadow hanging over them. And Thomas—he was ignoring all my messages. Maybe I was too harsh in my voicemails, but I was too angry to care. Still, even with all of that… the second I saw her… everything else disappeared. She stepped out of the cab, and it hit me like a full wind. A red dress. Tight. Too tight. It hugged every inch of her body, advertising her curves in the most sensual way possible. My heart slammed against my chest. My mouth went dry. God help me. I stared. I was staring like a man who hadn’t seen beauty before. I was staring. Hard. Too hard. I couldn’t stop myself. Staring like a lost school boy. Her hips moved

Roxy’s POVAs soon as we reach the car, he storms ahead of me—fast and angry.I can barely keep up.“What the hell was that?” I yell, chasing after him with breath shorts and a pounding heart.He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even turn.He just laughs—but there’s no joy in it. Only anger.“What was that?” he says without turning. “I just saved your damn honor in there.”Honor?I blink, like he slapped me.“My honor?” I laugh, shocked. “We were just talking!”“He spins around, finally looking at me.His jaw is tight. His eyes are colder than ever.“And drinking,” he snaps. “And letting him touch your hair. You just met him! That’s how your generation works now? No boundaries?”My blood starts to boil.“Well, forgive me for getting bored!” I shout, arms flying. “You brought me here. Left me in that booth all alone. Said ten minutes. It took forever. I was bored! It was just a sip of alcohol, why are you so mad?”He stops again. Austin is already at the car, holding the door open.But Aaron does

Roxy’s POV I wish I could say I came home tonight and fell into bed like the girl who got kissed under the stars. I wish I could say I felt tingles, butterflies—anything remotely satisfying. But instead, I came home in a red dress and shame. Catherine Bennett isn’t home—thank God. She’s off doing some student-teacher sleepover thing with little kids. That means I don’t have to lie. Don’t have to pretend. Don’t have to smile. Not that I could. Everything hurts. My head. My chest. My throat. My everything. Aaron West made me feel like some horny teenager who couldn’t wait to get laid. God, I hate him. I hate him so much. The second I walked into the house, I slammed my door open. Like it owed me money. And guess who I find lounging on my bed like she pays rent? “Woah… where the hell are you coming from? And what is that dress!” Rosie. Her eyes looked like two giant lollipops, ready to pop out of her head. I wanted to scream at her. Or throw something. Or both.

Roxy’s POVI blink, trying to process, but the next thing I hear is Aaron’s breathing. Loud. Shaky.Almost like—he’s afraid.It’s heavy and uneven, the kind of breathing that doesn’t sound like him at all.I can hear him inhaling through his mouth like he’s struggling to get air, and even though I can’t see him, I swear I can feel him shaking.“Mr. West?” I murmur into the darkness. Nothing.I fumble in my bag, heart hammering as I dig around blindly until my fingers graze my phone. I yank it out, press the power button, then the flashlight. A weak glow cuts through the darkness—enough to see him.My breath hitches.Aaron West is curled into the corner of the elevator like a fragile little boy.He’s on the floor, knees pulled up, face damp with sweat, his hands trembling slightly. His suit is wrinkled from the way he’s folded into himself.It almost doesn’t feel real.Like I’m hallucinating or something—like my brain is fabricating this image because there’s no way this powerful, cold