Touched by the Billionaire, Owned by the Devil
“But I have to go home. I have to handle it.”
He studied my face, his jaw ticking slightly. He knew I was lying. He had to know. But he didn't push.
“Okay,” he said softly. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small, silver key and set it on the counter next to my mug. “But the offer stands. The code for the gate is 4492. If you change your mind, even at three in the morning, just go.”
Staring at the key, I felt a sudden, sharp sting behind my eyes. Blinking rapidly, I picked up my water bottle and turned away so he wouldn't see my face. “Thank you. I should get back to work.”