All Chapters of STUCK WITH MR. BILLIONAIRE FOR CHRISTMAS : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

DANTEThe meeting finally wrapped up around four. Residents filed out, most of them smiling, shaking our hands. Jensen left without a word, jaw tight.Cinnamon turned to me as the hall emptied. "Is Dove okay? And Thessa?"The question caught me off guard. She'd been thinking about my family. Caring about them."It's a tough process," I said honestly. "But time will help. She'll heal and move on eventually.""I can't imagine what would make someone leave their wife and daughter if infidelity wasn't involved.""You can't predict humans." I laced my fingers through hers. "They have something perfect and ruin it with their own hands. I almost did that with us."She squeezed my hand. "But you didn't. We're here now.""We are." I pulled her closer. "But Cinnamon, there's something I need to tell you. About when this all started."Her smile faded. "What?""My original plan was to let you go as soon as this project finished. I didn't even intend to promote you."Hurt flashed across her face.

CINNAMONHe stood shirtless in the cabin's warm light, and I couldn't stop staring.There was a freaking tattoo of my face, inked slightly left, centered over his heart. Not some generic artistic interpretation, my actual face. The artist had captured the slope of my nose, the curve of my lips, even my thin eyebrows.Below it, my name was written in my own handwriting. The looping C, the way my n's always tilted slightly right, the flourish on the final n that I'd developed in high school and never lost, all accurately inked."How did you—" My voice caught. "When did you get this done?""Night of your promotion party." He said it like it was nothing. And permanently marking his body with my image was a casual decision. "Couldn't sleep. Couldn't stop thinking about you. Ended up in a twenty-four-hour shop at three in the morning.""Dante." I moved closer, fingers hovering over the ink. "You're full of surprises.""Tonight, I plan to show you another surprise." His voice dropped lower.

CINNAMON A woman stood there in a black uniform, white blouse, black vest, hair pulled back in a sleek bun. But it wasn't her I was staring at.It was the trolley.Green roses. Hundreds of them. Arranged in a massive display that must have taken hours to put together. Not the typical red or pink or white. These were deep forest green with darker green edges, unusual and striking and somehow perfect."Delivery for Ms. Wealth." The woman smiled. "From Mr. DM."Mr. DM. Dante Moretti.My heart did something complicated in my chest."Thank you." I stepped aside to let her wheel the trolley in.But there was more. Beside the roses sat a platter of chicken tenders arranged like a bouquet itself. Golden and perfect, arranged in a rose pattern with small cups of honey mustard tucked between them like flower centers. Enough chicken tenders to feed me for a week.He remembered. From our date. When I'd admitted my favorite food was chicken tenders and honey mustard like a five-year-old.The woma

CINNAMONLadies and gentlemen, I was in freaking Okinawa.Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined my life turning out this way. But here I was, healing, happy and held.We'd stopped in Virginia first, then boarded Dante's private plane for a twenty-hour flight that felt both endless and not long enough. When we finally arrived, exhaustion hit like crazy. But I still wanted to explore every inch of the mansion that greeted us. A sprawling estate with touches of green in every corner.This man was leaving my heart completely helpless.Just because I'd mentioned loving green, he'd made it his mission to incorporate it everywhere. Throw pillows. Vases. Art on the walls. Even the guest towels had subtle green threading.Very thoughtful. Slightly obsessive. Perfectly him.When I complained about not packing anything except my phone because he wouldn't tell me his plans, he'd shown me to our room. Every possible thing I could need was already there. Clothes in my size. Toiletries. Even my

DANTEKeeping this secret was killing me.I'd almost broken twice today, once when Cinnamon looked at me over breakfast with that soft, unguarded smile that made my chest ache, and again when she'd curled into my side on the couch, warm and trusting and completely mine.So instead of confessing early and ruining the surprise, I'd done something reckless. I'd poked at her. Stalled. Rage-baited her just enough to keep her distracted and just irritated enough not to look too closely.It had worked. Barely.We hadn't gotten Christmas together. Life had bulldozed straight through New Year's like those moments weren't sacred. So tonight was ours. Not just dinner. Not just family. This was my line in the sand. My announcement to the world that I was serious about her, about us, about the life I was choosing.The dining room hummed with life.Candles flickered along the massive table, flames dancing with every burst of laughter. Plates overflowed with roasted chicken glazed until the skin gle