Allergic to youUpdated at Jun 17, 2026, 23:23
I pretended to be a boy to land my dream job.He's a reclusive billionaire who's violently "allergic" to women.One caught a wrist. One torn shirt. One whispered confession later…Getting hired as personal chef to the infamous Jason Black should have been impossible. The man fires women on sight – rashes, hives, the whole dramatic meltdown. So I did what any desperate, down-on-her-luck chef would do.I cut my hair. Bought a binder. Became "Leo."For three months, it worked. He never looked twice at his scrawny, quiet kitchen boy. Until the night he found me in the pantry – cap off, hair loose, every lie stripped away.I expected yelling. Getting fired. Maybe a lawsuit.Instead, Jason Black backed me against the flour sacks, breathed in my real scent, and smiled like a wolf."My allergy makes me break out in hives. You just gave me something else entirely."Now he won't let me leave the kitchen. Or his bed. He says I'm his to taste, his to keep. But the worst isn't that he caught me.The worst is that I don't want to run.The worst is that I'm starting to crave him back