Page 19 of Her Filthy Cold Billionaire Boss

He walked off, whistling a tune I didn’t recognize, and I let out a shaky breath. The kitchen was empty, but the smell of cinnamon rolls and coffee meant Maribel would be here soon.

I pulled the flower from behind my ear and set it on the counter. The petals were already starting to wilt.

I checked my phone, found a new message from my best friend:

Survive the day?

It’s morning. Have you been day drinking again?

I put the phone away, poured myself a cup, and enjoyed that my phone was now buzzing nonstop as Ruby blew up my notifications with texts. I sighed, and tried to memorize the feeling of peace before the next round started.

I had a feeling that it wouldn’t last long

Leo was already in the kitchen by the time I’d drained my first cup of coffee and scraped the sugar crust off a cinnamon roll. He leaned on the counter, arms folded, surveying the room like a general planning a siege.

I nursed my mug and tried not to look like I was counting down the minutes to my next task. But Leo was impossible to ignore, even when silent.

He nodded at the mug. “You know, if you add a little orange zest, it cuts the bitterness.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I’m immune to bitterness at this point.”

He laughed, but the sound was softer this time. “You get used to the house. All the rules, the eyes in the walls. Eventually, it feels like home.”

“I’m not sure I want it to feel like home,” I said, not meaning to say it aloud.

He shrugged. “Some people don’t. Some people just want to leave a mark and move on.” He paused, watching me. “You don’t seem like a mark-leaver.”

I wasn’t sure what that meant. I focused on the mug, tracing the wolf’s outline with my thumb.

We both jumped when the door swung open with a click. In stepped Gareth Wolfe; suit, tie, and a presence that made the kitchen seem half its actual size.

He didn’t speak at first. He didn’t need to. Just standing there, he commanded the space. The temperature seemed to drop a degree. I went ramrod straight on my stool, shoulders squared, mug frozen mid-air.

Leo’s posture shifted, too. Not defensive, but alert, like a dog waiting for a command.

Gareth’s eyes skipped over Leo, then landed on me. “Ms. Blake,” he said, voice cool as the marble tiles. “I need to review the vendor contracts with you at ten. Please be prompt.”

“Of course,” I said, my voice coming out thin.

He turned to Leo, who nodded, almost respectfully. “Boss,” Leo said.

“Mr. Martin,” said Gareth. No inflection. No warmth. Just a pointed, surgical incision.

The silence that followed was as thick as the cinnamon roll frosting. I looked between them, unsure whether to break the silence or disappear.

Gareth broke the stare first. “You’ll take breakfast in your quarters today, Ms. Blake,” he said, as if it was a decree and not a question. “Maribel will bring it up.”

“Understood,” I said, too fast.

He watched me a second longer, eyes narrowing as if searching for a flaw in my answer. Then he turned and left, footsteps barely making a sound. The kitchen felt instantly lighter.

Leo exhaled, shaking his head. “Told you. He’s intense.”

I gave him a tight smile. “He keeps things…efficient.”

Leo grinned, but I could see the gears turning in his head. “You ever see him lose it? Like, really lose it?”

“Nope, doubt I will ever see that.” But a sudden flash in my mind, the thought of him taking me, stunned me speechless. I knew I was attracted to him, and I was pretty sure he was attracted to me, too.