All Chapters of The Baker's Billionaire : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

MARIONThe familiar sprawl of Los Angeles glowed beneath the descending plane, the city stretching like a promise. Sun-drenched, chaotic, and alive. A month in Antwerp had felt like a year, but now, watching the coastline curve under the July sun, all I could think about was her.Demetria.Wildfire.The name alone was enough to quicken my pulse.Customs, baggage claim, the procession of black cars waiting outside, it all blurred. My driver opened the door, and I slid into the leather backseat, loosening my tie as the car merged into LA traffic. Home. Finally. But before I could let myself get lost in the thought of her, I had business to settle.My father didn’t wait. The second I landed, he summoned me to The Whitfield Diamonds Corporation headquarters.“Straight to the Whitfield Diamonds, Mr. Whitfield?” the driver asked, already knowing the answer.“Yes.”When I walked into my father’s office, the skyline stretched behind him, sunlight slicing across the glass walls. He looked up, e

MARIONI stared at Demetria, waiting for her response. Whether she said yes or no, this particular date is still happening. She just didn’t know me well enough; she thought her refusal could stop me.I’d already decided. I’d call my car dealer first thing in the morning. A Mercedes A-Class with her name on it. That’s how serious I was.She sat beside me, chewing on her bottom lip. God, the way she did that without even realizing—she had no idea what it did to me.“And if I say no?” she asked finally, arching her brow in that stubborn way of hers.“Then no apology,” I said, leaning back with a casual shrug. “But I’ll find ways and means for the date to come off. You should know me by now, Wildfire. If I want something, I make it happen.”I paused, letting the words sink in, my eyes locking with hers. “You’re the one who wants me to apologize. I don’t even apologize to my nemesis.”Because that’s what Patrick was to me now—my nemesis.She scoffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “You

MARIONDemetria groaned beneath me, her nails digging into my shoulders like she was holding on for dear life. The sound of her voice, the way she trembled, only drove me harder. My mouth trailed down her neck, tasting her, biting, breathing her in.Her pussy gripped me so tight I swore I’d lose my mind. Every thrust had me deeper, harder, claiming her in ways no other man ever would.“Fuck…” I groaned against her ear, my voice rough, raw. “You feel so damn good. I wish I could bury myself in this pussy forever.”Her body shuddered around me, her moans filling the darkened room, but I didn’t slow down. My hands slid from the back of her thighs to her ass, lifting her, pulling her against me so I could change the angle. The new position made her cry out, and I smirked—yeah, I found her spot.She clenched around me, and I swore under my breath. “Damn… this pussy’s too good,” I growled, thrusting deeper, each stroke hitting harder than the last.Her eyes fluttered shut, lost to the rhythm

MARION I didn’t bother going home to change before meeting the construction team downtown. Time is money, and I wasn’t about to waste either. Instead, I sent Stephen to bring me a fresh outfit. Efficient, clean, simple. “You’re impossible.” Recalling Demetria’s words after that kiss in front of her bakery, I couldn’t stop the smirk tugging at my lips. She always had something to say after an encounter with me. Sharp, defiant, and laced with that fire she carries everywhere she goes. And damn, I liked provoking it. She always does. That woman resists me at every turn, firing back with those sharp words and sharper looks. She’s a wildfire, always ready to consume and reduce a man to ash. But me? I’m built to tame flames. I’ll snuff her out and enjoy the burn while I’m at it. The thought pulled a low snicker out of me as I stepped out of the car. Stephen parked outside the half-finished tower where my new casino was taking shape. Steel and glass stretched into the Los Angeles skyl

MARIONI leaned back in the leather seat of my SUV and let out a sharp, humorless chuckle. After Stephen slid his phone across to me when I saw the news while in my office, I wished Paula were right in front of me to strangle her neck. I don’t hurt women. But for her, she’ll be my first.“She wants to try her bullshit games with me?” I muttered.The headline on TMZ practically screamed at me: “Paula Watkins: The Future Mrs. Whitfield?”Future Mrs. Whitfield? My jaw tightened when I read the subheading. Some so-called “exclusive sit-down” where she dropped hints, playing coy about our connection when we were together. My connection? No, this was her stunt. Paula was smart, dangerously smart. She knew how to bend the media to her will, painting herself as some inevitable chapter in my story.“Whatever nonsense she sat there and spewed,” I murmured, my fingers drumming against my knee, “she’d better retract every word. And fast.”The views were already in the millions. Escalating by the s