Todos os capítulos de A NIGHT WITH MY BILLIONAIRE BOSS : Capítulo 1 - Capítulo 10

Lily's POV….. I looked at the graduation cap on my dresser, I was giddy with happiness, I had planned a perfect trip to celebrate my graduation and hoped Ryan my boyfriend of three years would finally propose to me. I planned to take cute pictures with a diamond ring on my finger. The girls at my dorm had even teased me that this would be the weekend. The weekend when Ryan Hale, would finally get down on one knee. I smiled just thinking about it as I zipped my luggage shut. The airline confirmation sat in my inbox, the hotel reservation under my name. The only thing missing was the proposal itself and I couldn’t wait “Make sure you don’t cry when he does it,” Sophia , my best friend, said on FaceTime I laughed “Mascara tears are not cute.” She said smiling “Shu up” I teased her She glared at me and I sighed “I won’t cry,” I promise. “Maybe a single tear. Just one, perfectly timed for the photo.” She flipped me off and I giggled ending the call to g

Lily's pov….He didn’t lunge, didn’t pounce. He just sat there, watching me with that lazy, devastating smirk, as if he had all the time in the world to let me squirm.Finally, I broke.“You’re insufferable,” I whispered, standing to snatch up my clothes.He caught my wrist before I could move away. His grip was firm but not rough, his eyes glinting in the low lamplight. “Maybe. But you’re gorgeous when you’re flustered.”The air snapped.One second I was glaring at him, the next his mouth was on mine. Hard. Hungry. Like he’d been waiting all night to devour me.I gasped, and he swallowed the sound, his tongue sliding against mine. His hand cupped the back of my neck, tilting me into him as if he owned me already.And maybe, for that moment, he did.Gently, he tugs my bra of and slides hishand beneath. His palm is rough and warm as it skims my breast. My gaze snaps down, transfixed, as he moves his hand lower and pulls down my shorts..My heart is hammering against my chest. It is

Andrew's POV The hotel room was still dark when I pulled on my shirt. For a moment, I stood there in the dim light filtering through the curtains, watching the shape of her tangled in the sheets. Lily Hart I had asked the receptionist to send me her name, perks of being a billionaire. She had fallen asleep pressed against me, her breathing soft and steady, her hair spilling over the pillow in wild waves. Beautiful. Too damn beautiful. I caught myself staring and dragged my eyes away. This was exactly why I never lingered. The more time you gave a moment like this, the more dangerous it became. On the nightstand, a folded piece of paper peeked out of the pocket of my jacket where she’d slipped it. Her number. Her delicate handwriting curving across the page. For one irrational second, I thought about keeping it. About calling her. About seeing where this strange pull between us might lead. Then I shoved the thought away. No repeats. No entanglements. No mess

Drew's pov …. The Sterling mansion looked exactly the same as it had my whole life—immaculate, cold, and lifeless. A monument to power, and a graveyard for everything else. The black iron gates swung open as I pulled in. Even the gravel beneath the tires seemed to crunch in quiet judgment. Every time I came here, the air got heavier, like the walls remembered every shout, every slap, every unspoken thing that had rotted in this house. I killed the engine and sat for a second, staring at the mansion. I shouldn’t have come. But when my father said the word mother, I didn’t have a choice. He knew exactly how to drag me back. The front door opened before I could knock. Eleanor stood there—my stepmother. Her blonde hair was pinned neatly, her smile practiced, but her eyes… her eyes were tired. Always tired, I could see the purple bruise blooming on her cheeks. “Andrew,” she said softly, almost like she wasn’t sure if saying my name would anger someone. “Eleanor,” I replied, st

Lily’s POV...... The elevator chimed softly as it reached the executive floor. My reflection in the mirrored walls stared back at me—hair neat, blouse pressed, makeup subtle enough to scream competent. Second day on the job. New start, new composure. No breakdowns, no overthinking. I clutched the file Mrs. Lawson had asked me to deliver and walked toward Andrew Sterling’s office. The early morning quiet of the floor made my heels echo too loudly, each click amplifying the tension in my chest. His door was open. I hesitated, knocked once, then froze. He wasn’t at his desk. I looked around and saw him. He was shirtless. Andrew Sterling—billionaire, CEO, untouchable—stood in the corner of his office gym, glistening with sweat as he worked the punching bag like it had insulted him personally. Every motion was precise, brutal, and mesmerizing. I should have looked away. I didn’t. His muscles flexed with each hit, his jaw tight with focus, a single bead of sweat tra