THE BILLIONAIRE’S PUREST OBSESSION

Out of Place

The door closed, instantly shutting out the whispering floor outside.

Kylian didn't waste a second. He walked over to the table near the window, threw his suit jacket over the back of an armchair, and dropped into his seat. He looked up at her, gesturing to the spot across from him.

"Sit."

Evangeline stayed rooted to the spot, holding the lunch basket tightly against her chest. "Sir, I can unpack your food and wait outside. Miss Serena said—"

"I don’t care what Serena said. Sit down, Evangeline."

The sound of her name on his lips stopped her mid-protest. Swallowing down the sudden knot in her throat, she stepped forward, placed the basket on the table, and sat on the edge of the leather cushion.

She unpacked the containers quickly, setting down the chicken, the warm broth, and the small bottle of medication right beside his glass of water, before pulling her hands back into her lap.

Kylian picked up his fork, but he didn't eat right away. Instead, his raised his head up, assessing her face down, in a way that made her skin prickle.

"You shouldn't wear this here again," he said quietly.

Evangeline blinked, caught off guard. She looked down at her grey dress. "What?"

"This outfit is meant for the house," Kylian said, taking a bite of his food. "It’s not suitable to wear here.”

"I don't exactly have a huge collection of clothes, Mr. Moreno. It was either this or the old clothes that you already made clear you disliked."

"And while we're on the subject, a delivery man brought bags to the penthouse this morning. Uniforms, shoes, coats, cream. It's far too much. I'm your cook, Mr. Moreno. I haven't earned any of those things, and I can't accept them."

Kylian chewed slowly, entirely unfazed by her burst of anger. He set his fork down, resting his forearms in the table as he met her glare.

"You didn't earn them, they aren't rewards, Evangeline. They are necessary things you need for work."

She scowled, confused. "Necessary things?"

"You work in my home," he explained, as if pointing out the most obvious fact in the world. "Your old shoes were worn paper-thin and had zero grip on the kitchen tile. Your hands were bruising because Mrs. Gable failed to order proper protective gloves. And your old dress was no better than a rag. If you represent my home, you will dress appropriately for it."

"I understand maintaining standards, sir, but—"

"Then there's nothing left to argue about."

He leaned back, his eyes lingering on her uniform. It looked clean, but it was obviously a servant's uniform, and seeing her sit across from him in his own office dressed like a maid, he didn’t like it at all.

She needs real clothes, he thought, watching the subtle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed through her frustration.

He knew better than to bring up taking her shopping. Her pride was already bristling, and offering to buy her clothes directly would only make her retreat behind the huge walls she already has. No, he would just hand the task off to Serena before the afternoon was out. Serena could shop for her and have it delivered straight to the penthouse. Evangeline wouldn't have a choice in the matter.

"We're going to need to handle your attire for these afternoons," he said aloud.

Evangeline’s eyes snapped wide. "No. Absolutely not. Please do not buy anything else for me, Mr. Moreno. I mean it."

Kylian didn't bother arguing with her. He simply wiped his mouth, and stood up. He reached for his suit jacket, slipping it back on easily.

"Your lunch is getting cold," he noted, glancing down at the second plate she had packed for herself. "Eat."

"I am not hungry."

"Eat your food, Evangeline. I’m not asking."

She bit the inside of her cheek, glaring up at him but Kylian was already turning toward his desk.

Across the hallway, an entire board of directors were sitting in silence, sweating over a multi-billion-dollar acquisition meeting he had paused just to eat.

He didn't care. They could wait.

"The car will be waiting downstairs to take you back home."

Evangeline stood up quickly, her chair scraping against the floor. "And tomorrow?"

Kylian paused, his hand resting on the door handle. He glanced back over his shoulder, "tomorrow at one o'clock," he said softly. "Don't keep me waiting."

He opened the door and stepped out, letting it shut behind him.

Evangeline let out a shaky breath and sank back onto the chair. Her heart was pounding hard against her ribs, he was arrogant and infuriating.

He treated her life like a project that needed managing. As she reached down to clean off the table, she noticed his phone sitting right beside his empty glass.

He had left it behind.

Evangeline picked it up, intending to hand it to Serena on her way out, when the door suddenly turned open again.

She turned around just as a tall woman stepped into the office, holding a leather briefcase. Her gaze swept over the room, settling on Evangeline, the lunch basket, and the phone in her hand.

Her expression went cold.

"Who the hell are you?"