All Chapters of The Billionaire's Curvy Prize: Chapter 111 - Chapter 117

She woke before that morning, and for a moment she didn't know why her heart was beating so fast.Then she remembered.Queen lay still in the large bed, the early light just beginning to gray the tall windows, and let the thought settle over her. *Today I resign.* She said it silently, then said it again inside her head, testing the weight of it.It was heavy. But it wasn't the kind of weight that crushed.Beside her, George stirred. His arm slid across her waist, warm and heavy with sleep, and he pulled her back against his chest without opening his eyes.“You're thinking too loudly,” he mumbled into her hair.“I'm not thinking.”“You're thinking in *capital letters*.”She laughed softly. “Go back to sleep.”“Hm.” His thumb moved in a slow, drowsy arc over her hip. “Do you want me to come with you?”“No.”“Good. I'd have said yes, and then I'd have been insufferable.”“You'd have glared at Richard.”“I'd have glared at the *carpet*.” A pause. His voice softened. “It's a big day, Quee

Queen carried the box herself.Sarah had the front door open before the car stopped, and her hands were already reaching, but Queen shook her head with a small smile. “I've got it.”“Of course, ma'am.” Sarah withdrew her hands and folded them. “Miss Ava arrived forty minutes ago.”“Forty minutes? I left her on the phone not an hour ago.”“She said she'd been on her way for a while.” A pause, perfectly composed. “She has taken over the library. She asked me not to mention.”Queen laughed. It felt good, after the morning she'd had. She crossed the great hall with the box held against her chest, the jade plant leaning against her collarbone, and the marble echoed her footsteps back at her.At the library doors, she stopped.The long reading table had been dragged to the middle of the room. Notebooks, three laptops, a stack of sticky notes in four colors. A coffee pot on a silver tray. On an easel by the window stood a whiteboard that had not been there that morning, and across the top of

Helen Marsh did not believe in surprises, which was why the lease was already on the table when Queen walked in.It lay in the middle of a long oak desk on the twelfth floor of the Williams Group building, squared to the edge, with a fountain pen resting across it like a verdict. Helen sat behind it in a gray suit, her glasses on their chain, wearing the faintly dangerous calm of a woman who had read every clause twice and enjoyed it.Ava, beside Queen, was holding a coffee she hadn't touched. Her eyes kept going to the door.“He's coming,” Helen said, without looking up.“Who?”“The landlord.”Queen's mouth twitched. “My husband is the landlord.”“Your husband is, for the purposes of this document, a stranger with a building,” said Helen. “I'd ask you to treat him as one.”“I always do.”“You do not. That's the problem.” Helen slid the document across. “Read it.”Queen read it.Page one, the parties. Page two, the premises: three floors, a basement, a roof. Page three, the term, five

Queen woke up to a kiss on her lips. It was a slow kiss, barely there, warm and unhurried, the kind that she has been getting since she married. Then another, at the corner of her brow. Then one at the curve of her shoulder, where the strap of her nightgown had slipped, and she felt the smile against her skin before she felt anything else.“Good morning, the absolute love of my life,” said George, very softly.She didn't open her eyes. Instead, she turned deep into the warmth of the sheets and found him with her hand: his jaw rough with the early hour, his throat, the steady pulse beneath it.“What time is it?”“Early.”“Then why are you awake?”“Because I couldn't sleep.” His fingers moved through her hair, slow and gentle, from her temple to the tips. “I lay here for an hour and watched you. I didn't want to miss it.”“Miss what?”“The last morning you were only *about* to do it.”Her eyes opened.The room was full of pale gold light. He lay on his side facing her, propped on one e