Page 9 of Protected By My Playboy Billionaire

I roll my eyes. “Stop being a crybaby. Move on, Carson. We’re done.”

His smirk widens, displaying an arrogance that makes my skin crawl. “Done? Baby, you don’t really believe that, do you? Just because you got a little angry doesn’t mean we’re done. We were just taking a break. I honestly thought you’d come to your senses by now.”

“Well, it seems you underestimated me.” I quickly grab my salad and begin to scoot out of the seat when his hand clams down over my wrist. “Let me go,” I say through gritted teeth.

His eyes narrow, and he leans in, lowering his voice to a menacing whisper. “Do you think you can just walk away from me? You can’t, Elana. You can't escape that easily.”

My jaw clenches, and I shoot a glance around, hoping Lilly returns soon. The courtyard seems oblivious to what’s happening, and Lilly is nowhere to be found.

“Carson, get your hand off.”

Just as I'm about to stab his hand with my fork, Bryan reappears from behind me, holding a spoon and an extra pudding cup. He glances at Carson, and his eyes go down to his hand over my wrist.

“Everything okay here?” Bryan’s tone is calm, but there’s a firmness in his eyes.

“Just catching up with my girlfriend. Nothing that concerns you, Bryan.”

“Really?” Bryan raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Cause I see your hand over her wrist.” Carson finally lets me go and turns to look at Bryan, who is shaking his head. “Have some dignity, Carson.”

Carson shoots me a venomous look before standing. “You’re right. I have better things to do than waste my time with you.” He gives me one last warning glare before sauntering away.

In the backseat of the taxi, on my way to Morgan Investments, Adrian and the impending first day dominate my thoughts—Hell, my whole body. As we nearthe towering glass buildings, my palms grow clammy, and I feel a fluttering in my stomach that refuses to subside.

Get a grip.

My entire body seems to shake with nervous energy, and I only feel it once the pain in my muscles takes over. I take a deep breath, attempting to steady myself, but my chest tightens. The anxiety courses through me, manifesting physically until my whole body trembles. Why am I so nervous?

I glance out the window, hoping the distraction will calm my racing thoughts. The cityscape rushes by, a blur of towering buildings and flashing lights. The pain in my chest intensifies, a sharp ache that doesn’t go away. What is he going to be like now that Ethan won’t be there?

“Deep breaths,” I mutter to myself, attempting to regain control.

“I’m sorry?” The driver turns his head momentarily.

“Oh, I was just saying you can pull over right nextto that SUV.”

It’s just an internship. It’s nothing to be this worked up about. Yet, the anticipation of facing Adrian continues to gnaw at my composure. The taxi comes to a halt.

“That’ll be thirty-three dollars, miss.” The driver turns to face me.

Thirty-three dollars?I wince at the fare, realizing I should have taken the bus instead of a taxi as I pay the driver.

“Have a nice day.” I reluctantly pull myself together, mustering the courage to step out. The driver mutters out a response as I close the door.

Only when I hear the taxi drive off do I realize that I’m frozen in place. The imposing facade of Morgan Investments looms above me, and the bustling courtyard feels like a maze of well-dressed professionals, just like yesterday.

It’s just like the first day of college, Elana. You’ll be fine.

I navigate through the crowd, my gaze briefly catching the cafe where the memory of spilling coffee on myself flashes in my mind. A small cringe tugs at my lips, but I keep moving, weaving through the people.

I push through the main building's revolving glass doors. The air inside is crisp, and the scent of polished wood and faint cologne envelops me. With each step, my nerves intensify. The mere thought of facing Adrian today without Ethan sends shivers down my spine.

I head to the front desk, where a sharply dressed woman glances up from her computer.

“Hello, ma’am. Can I help you?” she asks, her tone professional.

I clear my throat, fighting to steady my voice. “I’m the new intern, Elana Turner. They should be expecting me.” I smile at the lady, but she merely nods, uninterested.

“Top floor, Adrian Morgan’s office. His assistant will help you,” she replies, her gaze returning to the computer screen.