All Chapters of STUCK WITH MR. BILLIONAIRE FOR CHRISTMAS : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

CINNAMON:Three years.Three years of late nights, brutal deadlines, and campaigns that saved the company's ass more times than I could count. Today, all of it would finally mean something.I smoothed my hands over the navy blazer I'd splurged on last month. Tailored, professional. It was perfect for claiming what I'd earned. My reflection in the apartment window looked ready. Confident. A woman who'd already won.The promotion was mine.I grabbed my bag and bolted out the door, heels clicking against the pavement as I speed-walked toward the junction. The staff bus always left at 7:45 sharp, and I'd rather chew glass than miss it today of all days.The bus rumbled into view just as I rounded the corner, brake lights glowing red."Wait!" I broke into a jog, waving my arm like a lunatic.The door hissed open. Thank God.I reached for the handle, ready to haul myself up and collided with a wall of muscle and expensive cologne.A man stood at the door, one hand already gripping the rail

DANTE:The next day, the office felt different.Employees avoided eye contact when I walked past. Conversations died mid-sentence. Even the executives moved carefully, speaking in measured tones, correcting themselves before I had to.Fear.Good. I'd rather be feared than loved. Fear kept people sharp. Kept them obedient.I was halfway through a meeting with the finance team when Martin knocked."Sir, I need a moment."I waved him in. "Make it quick."He hesitated, glancing at the others in the room. "Privately, if possible."I dismissed the team, then leaned back in my chair. "What is it?"Martin set a folder on my desk. "The Meadowbrook project. It's our next major acquisition. It's a land development for a luxury resort. The investors are traditional, family-oriented. They only work with people they trust.""And?""The land is in Ms. Wealth's hometown."I went still.Martin continued, oblivious. "She knows the area. Knows the people. She's the only one who can navigate the local po

DANTE:Who the hell was this?I stared at the woman standing in my doorway, and for a split second, my brain refused to connect her to the coffee-throwing menace from two days ago.Then her eyes defiantly met mine and reality snapped into place.She'd transformed from the hasty, disheveled woman who'd stumbled into the boardroom to a cooperate diva.The fitted dress hitting just above her knees, moved with her like water. Her hair complimented her subtle makeup. Her heels clicked with a confidence that made her presence swallow the entire room. They elongated her legs beautifully, though I couldn’t help remembering the last time I’d seen her in one. She could barely walk in them then, wobbling like a newborn foal, and yet here she was now, wearing them as if she’d been born in them.I'd redecorated this office specifically to impress. Minimalist furniture, custom lighting, art pieces. Everything designed to establish dominance before a single word was spoken.But standing here, watchi

CINNAMON:"I can't believe they're doing this to you during the holidays."Risa paced across my bedroom, stepping over piles of clothes and open suitcases like they'd personally offended her. "This is insane, Ci. You're supposed to be with your mom and Khole. Not working through Christmas for some asshole."When Risa worried like this, voice pitched high, hands gesturing wildly, it reminded me exactly why she'd been my best friend since kindergarten. We'd survived everything together: first crushes, bad breakups, career disasters. And somehow, we'd ended up in different departments at the same company, which felt like fate giving us a break for once.Apart from Mom and my sister Khole, Risa was the only family I had. Beautiful, kind, hardworking Risa, who would probably fight Dante Moretti in a parking lot if given half a chance.I paused mid-fold, a sweater dangling from my hands. Three suitcases lay open on my bed, overflowing with clothes, shoes, toiletries."Risa, it's fine. It's

DANTE:Before I could pull myself back together, she’d already shifted to her side of the cabin, leaving a charged emptiness where she’d been. Cinnamon blinked too fast, a quick flash of hurt crossing her face before she smoothed it into a faint, polite smile.I was an idiot.She’d calmed me down from a full panic spiral, and I repaid her by snapping like she’d crossed a line.“Thank you,” I muttered.“There’s no need to thank me.” Her voice was cold now, stripped of every trace of softness. “Because this won’t happen again.”She angled her body away, shoulder turned, knees pointed toward the window as if she wanted to carve the distance into the air itself. She wanted me to see it. To feel it.I deserved that.What was it about this woman? I’d spent years perfecting control and she unraveled it with a single act of kindness. One moment I was composed. The next, I was lashing out because she got too close.I needed to get myself together.I drew a breath, ready to apologize properly,