All Chapters of Hiding the Billionaire's Heir: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The air inside Ethan Dawson’s office felt suffocating it was too quite. Even the noise of the city outside seemed distant behind the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. My hand trembled around the file I was holding. I gripped it tightly, as though the papers inside could somehow keep me steady. My heart was beating so hard that I could feel my pulse against my throat. Ethan hadn’t moved for several seconds. His back was still facing me, his broad shoulders tense beneath his perfectly fitted suit. The silence between us felt unbearable. It buzzed in the air like static, and I could almost feel the weight of his thoughts pressing down on me. Then, finally, he spoke. His voice was low, calm, and somehow more frightening because of it. “You’re trembling, Miss Ramirez.” I swallowed. “I’m not.” “You are.” He turned around slowly, his eyes immediately finding mine. There was something unsettling about the way he looked at me, as if he could see straight through every lie I ha

The next morning, Marco was already waiting in the lobby when I arrived at the office. Earlier, he had messaged me, telling me he wouldn't be able to drive me there. I thought that meant he would simply see me at work later. I was wrong. He stood near the reception area with a thermos of tea in one hand and a small paper bag of breakfast in the other. He looked exactly the way he always did. dependable and calm. As if he knew what I needed before I even had the chance to ask for it. Marco had always been like that. Before work, he would often stop by with something warm to drink or something he knew I liked to eat. Small gestures that most people might not notice. But I did. Especially now. “Good morning,” he said softly when he saw me. He lifted the paper bag slightly. “I brought your favorites.” I forced a small smile and lowered my eyes. “Thanks… Marco. Really.” He studied my face for a moment before taking a careful step closer. There was something diffe

The workday finally ended, but the relief I had been waiting for never came. I packed my things slowly, my fingers trembling as I slipped my laptop into my bag. Outside the glass walls, the city had already begun to glow. Buildings were lighting up one by one, and headlights moved along the streets below like streams of light. I took a deep breath. Just go home. Home meant safety. Home meant Marco. I had barely slung my bag over my shoulder when I heard footsteps behind me. Slow. Measured. I froze. “I'll drive you home.” Ethan's voice cut through the quiet office. I turned around. He stood several feet away, his expression unreadable. “Ethan… no.” I tightened my grip on my bag. “Marco is coming for me.” “He can wait.” My stomach tightened. “I'm serious. He'll be here.” “I said I'll take you.” There was something final about his tone. “I'm not asking you to choose.” I stared at him. “You're ordering me?” His jaw tightened. “You shouldn

The next morning, I woke around eight. The cold sheets greeted me. Ethan was gone. He was probably already at the office. Only the faintest trace of his scent lingered—clinging to the pillow, my skin, my ribs. A whisper of last night. A reminder of everything I should have pushed away. Not once. Not twice. I didn’t just fall once. I fell again. Willingly. Helplessly. And the shame hit harder this time. Because a mistake made once could be forgiven. But twice? What did that make me? I pulled the blanket around myself like armor, as if cotton could hide the truth. From the world. From Marco. From myself. My gaze drifted toward the dining table. Food, wrapped neatly. A quiet offering. A silent reminder. A goodbye… Or a warning. A secret sat heavy in my chest, like a stone pressing against my lungs. I opened the container, and nausea slammed into me. The smell. The sight. The memory. My stomach twisted violently. I barely made it to the sink before I retched,

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime. I stepped out, clutching my bag far tighter than I needed to. The office looked exactly as it always did. People moved between desks, folders and coffee cups in hand. Phones rang from every corner. Keyboards clattered beneath rushing fingers. A printer droned somewhere down the hall, followed by the faint sound of laughter drifting from the pantry. Ordinary. Everything was painfully, almost cruelly ordinary. Everything but me. It felt like I’d walked into a world that kept turning while mine had ground to a halt—stuck somewhere between guilt and regret. I kept my head down and headed for my desk, moving slowly, careful not to hurry. My fingers shook around the bag strap; I gripped it harder, hoping no one would notice. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I didn’t want to force a smile. I didn’t want anyone’s gaze to linger too long. I was terrified they’d see it— The exhaustion etched deep in my eyes. The heavy gu