Home > Billionaire Black (My Billionaire Boss #4)(8)

Billionaire Black (My Billionaire Boss #4)(8)
Author: Emily Cantore

I smiled and felt my body tingle as I refocused on his reflection in the window. I had seen angry Mr. Stone. I had seen cold. I had seen furious. Just for a moment, I caught a glimpse of content.

Without another word between us he pulled me away from the window and to his bed. We slipped under the sheets and my head was only on his chest a moment before I was asleep.

*

The next morning I awoke and found Mr. Stone was gone.

I sat up, feeling warm and relaxed and saw a gold envelope sitting on the end of the bed. I quickly rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and opened it.

I will be away on business for the next few days. We will begin your training on Wednesday morning in the office. There is a driver waiting to take you home once you have had breakfast.

You will learn how to please me.

I shivered, imagining all that he had in store for me. Training in the office? What did he mean?

I stretched and then brought the note up to my lips, smelling his faint scent on it. I was still sore and worn out from yesterday but the scent of him made my skin tingle and my heart start to beat faster. I suddenly remembered what I'd agreed to and reached up to feel the leather collar around my neck.

I was his.

*

After a shower, I found a pile of clothes in my size in the en suite that fit me perfectly. I dressed and then after a quick breakfast prepared by Nadine, Mr. Henry led me out the front of the mansion where a limo was waiting. He opened the door for me and I slipped inside.

"The driver will take you home miss," said Mr. Henry.

"Thank you so much," I said as he closed the door.

I gathered it wasn't Mi-oh driving me home this time. The driver kept the barrier up between us but I barely noticed. I kept touching the collar around my neck and remembering last night. I was so lost in daydreams that I didn't realize I was home until the car stopped.

The driver opened the door for me and I stepped out and almost into him.

Mr. Stone.

Dressed in a tuxedo.

I squealed as he grabbed me and pulled him hard against him, our lips meeting in a passionate kiss. He pushed the car door closed behind me and then I was against the car, feeling his cock press up against me.

He finally broke off the kiss, leaving both of us gasping. All I wanted was to fuck him right now.

"I will see you Wednesday," he said and gave me a final kiss.

"You bastard," I said, panting.

He raised an eyebrow at me.

"You bastard, sir," I said.

He raised his hand to my throat and took hold of the collar with two fingers.

"You belong to me and you will obey," he said.

With that he moved me away from the car and got back in the driver's seat, leaving me standing on the footpath panting like I'd just run ten blocks. He drove away and I didn't know whether to laugh or throw my shoe at the retreating limo.

I floated into my building and then took the elevator up to my floor, trying to clear my head but all I could think about was Mr. Stone. By the time I reached my apartment I was determined to give myself a cold shower or a good slap in the face so I could regain my senses.

But as soon as I stepped inside my door, I felt a cold rush come over me like I'd dived into an ice pool.

Sitting on my scarred and battered coffee table was a single A4 photograph. It was a young girl at a protest. She was yelling and holding a Molotov cocktail. Her face was filled with rage and fear.

It was me, age sixteen.

I turned the photo over and stuck on the back was a print-out from my hometown local paper.

STONE PHARMA BURNT DOWN IN ARSON ATTACK

I didn't read the article because I knew it by heart. I'd read it a million times when it had been published. A Molotov cocktail was thrown during a protest against Stone Pharma. Their building caught fire and burnt to the ground. A janitor working there had died of smoke inhalation in the basement.

Underneath the article was a phone number and a message:

Text I understand and await our instructions.

Someone knew who I was. They knew where I lived and had been in my apartment. I pulled out my phone and tried to enter the message but my hands were shaking too much. Finally I gave up trying to enter the message and collapsed on the sofa, staring at the photo of my younger self.

She had been out of her depth back then and I was out of my depth right now. She had made stupid decisions back then.

Was I about to make a stupid decision right now?

I managed to type in I understand and hit send.

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