All Chapters of One Night And A Billionaire Obsession : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Michael's POV I step out of the shower with steam clinging to my skin, the heat still pulsing across my shoulders. I’d stood under the water too long, hoping it would knock something loose out of my head, clear it, settle it, anything. It didn’t, it never does. There are some things water can’t wash off.My penthouse was quiet the way I liked it, the city spread out beneath the windows like a restless sea of lights. I grab a towel and scrub it over my hair, though my thoughts were louder than the fabric dragging against my scalp.She’s still there. Kelly Roberts.Three weeks in my company and she somehow manages to take up more space in my mind than the twelve-hour workday I just finished.I cross into the living room, towel hanging loose around my waist. I should be reviewing the quarterly report I got today. I should be answering any of the fifty unread messages on my phone. Instead I’m replaying moments I don’t want to replay.Her laugh earlier outside my office with one of th

Kelly’s POVSunday mornings were supposed to be for doing laundry, being silent, and the luxury of moving slowly. Instead, I was standing in my bedroom, staring at my mirror like it was a battlefield map. “Casual professionalism outfit” sounded simple until I had to execute it. Too formal and I’d look like I was trying too hard. Too casual and I’d look unserious. The sweet spot between “competent” and “not overdressed for a ghost-town Sunday boardroom” was frustratingly narrow.I finally settled on black slacks, a clean cream colored blouse, and a low bun. The kind of outfit that said I respected myself and the building but wasn’t trying to impress anyone. Definitely not him.Still, a tiny flicker of nerves hit me as I grabbed my bag and stepped out into the quiet morning air. Nervous or not, I was going there. Claire had added that investor meeting suddenly, and if I was going to survive Donovan Company’s rhythm, I needed to match the pace, not complain about it.The city was qui

Kelly’s POVDinner was meant to have been normal, or at least that was the lie I told myself as I set the table, placing the rice, grilled chicken, and a simple salad I made, nothing fancy on it. Hope and Dylan over the years had made my place being the “neutral ground” if we all needed to gather at any time. It was no pressure, no noise, just a quiet space where we could be ourselves without our respective jobs tugging at our sleeves.But there was pressure tonight, as I felt it, because it sat in my chest like an invisible hand, squeezing slowly, rhythmically, every time I remembered the email I received yesterday as I left the office.I heard Dylan’s voice first, as always. “You never lock your door Kelly,” he called out, stepping inside without knocking. “Its not safe and you know that. I don't need to keep telling you the same thing over and over again.”“Good evening to you too,” I said, closing the door behind him.He dropped his briefcase beside the couch and loosened his t

Kelly’s POVIt was Monday morning once again at Donovan Corp, and as always felt a little like the air carried the leftover tension from every argument that had ever happened inside the building. As I got to my desk that morning, I had barely dropped my bag beside it when an email from Claire flashed onto my screen.Please print the hard copies of the Clinton files attached under this email, it's for the 10 a.m. executive meeting, it said. And deliver directly to Conference Room A. Do not give it to someone else to deliver.Claire never wrote anything without intention. For her to say I shouldn't give the documents to someone else, probably meant the documents were sensitive, time-critical, or that someone in that room expected perfection delivered by hand.I printed the files, double-checked each page, smoothed the corners, then checked them again because my nerves insisted on it. Mondays were never kind, but this one had a different heaviness to it.By the time I reached the thir

Michael's POV The penthouse was silent when I finally stepped inside after a long day, the city lights stretching below like a scattered constellation I could never hope to reach. I had worked late again, staring at spreadsheets and budgets for the new acquisition, pushing every other thought aside. The buzz of my phone went unnoticed as I placed it on the side table, Ryder’s name kept flashing, but I ignored it. I did not want distractions right now. I poured a neat whiskey into a glass, the amber liquid catching the light, and sipped slowly, trying to scrub away the tension coiling in my shoulders, but it didn’t leave. Because at the moment my mind kept drifting back to that night in the club, the flash of her laughter, the reckless way she had followed me, and the fact that she was now part of my company. It had been nearly two months since that one night, yet the memory refused to fade. I told myself it was just a spark, nothing more. Sexual tension, I reasoned.