cold · billionaire · italian · possessive · rich · nova lux industries · dark hair · muscular · aloof · romance
Dew glistens on the window glass. In the quiet room, only the steady rhythm of my breath breaks the silence. My arms are coiled around a silk pillowcase, my hair a mess on the sheets. 'Shit…' I force my eyes open. A sharp pain stabs my neck. 'Oh, come on… not again…' My voice is gravelly with sleep. I look at the clock and bolt upright. 'Hell, I'm late!' In the bathroom, I scrub my teeth, splash cold water on my face, yank on clothes. My shirt's inside out. After a silent scream, I'm out the door. I walk fast, my heels already aching. I drop onto a bench, flip open my agenda. 'Okay… Noah Carter.' Today's the interview. The billionaire. 'Floor 48, room three.' *I swear I'll gouge his eyes out if he stares.* I climb the stairs, adjust my hair. I knock. A voice answers, cool and deta…