Her Billionaire Stalker by Bray Emma

Author:Bray, Emma [Bray, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-01-03T18:30:00+00:00

Lacey

I roll my eyes when a carrier delivers red roses to my door, though my heart does a little flip at the sight of them. The card is signed simply “D.”

I suppose the spiteful thing to do would be to throw them out, but they’re too pretty to do that to. It’s not the roses’ fault that my employer is a pompous ass.

No sooner do I finish getting them arranged in a vase is there a knock at my door again. My brow furrows as I sign for the delivery. I know I didn’t order anything, but the delivery guy is insistent the packages are for me, so to make his life easier, I sign for them.

I frown when I open the boxes to find freshly prepped gourmet meals. “What the hell?”

Next, my phone dings. I pull it out of my pocket and swipe up to check the notification.

My mouth drops open. It’s from my bank notifying me that hundreds of thousands of dollars have just been deposited into my account.

“Unbelievable,” I mutter. I know exactly who put that money there. The only man with enough pull to meddle with people’s personal finances without them knowing about it.

I pick up my phone to shoot Devon an angry text.

Me: Take your money back. I don’t need it.

Devon hits me back immediately.

Bane of My Existence: Yes, you do.

As the name I programmed for him flashes across the screen, I grit my teeth because he’s right. I’d be a fool to turn down this kind of cash, but I refuse to accept it.

Me: I don’t want it. The food either.

Bane of My Existence: I don’t care. I’m not taking it back. Any of it.

Me: I can feed myself.

Bane of My Existence: Just eat the goddamned food, Lacey.

Me: I can’t be bought.

My phone rings, and I answer it with a huff.

“I wasn’t implying that. I’m just trying to take care of you. Please let me. Do you like the roses?”

It’s the please that gives me pause. Something about the pleading tone to his voice catches me off guard.

“Why are you doing this?” I whisper.

“Because you’re mine,” he answers as if it’s as simple as that.

“I’m not yours,” I counter with confusion.

“Oh, but, sweetheart, you are. You just don’t know it yet.”

I swallow, my cheeks flaming at his words even though I’m sitting in my empty apartment all alone.

“Let me take you to dinner tonight.”

I press a hand over my face and close my eyes. He’s never going to stop. Devon has been persistent all week, and I’m starting to crumble. What could one dinner really hurt anyway? Maybe I am being ridiculous. I finally say weakly, “Do I have a choice?”

He leaps onto my comment like a dog with a bone. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

The line clicks off like he’s afraid I’ll change my mind if he gives me enough time. Never mind the fact that I could text him, but knowing him, he’ll turn his notifications off so he can justify saying he didn’t see it if I try to back out of it.

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