THE BILLIONAIRE DADDY'S ADDICTION

Chapter 11

Ariella hadn't slept.

She'd spent the entire night tossing and turning, replaying every moment of yesterday, the coffee, the walk, the way Noah's hand had felt wrapped around hers. The way he'd looked at her like she was the only woman in the world. The way her heart had raced when he said let me in.

She groaned and pressed her pillow over her face.

This was bad. This was really, really bad.

She was falling for a billionaire. A forty-two-year-old billionaire who'd admitted to having her investigated, who'd offered to pay off her debts, who showed up at her workplace like some kind of romantic stalker. Every rational part of her brain was screaming at her to run.

But her heart, her stupid, traitorous heart, didn't want to run. It wanted to stay. It wanted to see where this thing with Noah could go.

She threw off the covers and padded to the kitchen, where Jazz was already awake, nursing a cup of coffee and scrolling through her phone. Jazz looked up, took one look at Ariella's face, and set down her mug.

"You look like hell."

"Thanks."

"Did you sleep at all?"

"No."

Jazz sighed and gestured to the chair across from her. "Sit. Talk."

Ariella sat. She wrapped her hands around the mug Jazz slid toward her and stared into the dark liquid like it held the answers to all her problems.

"I went out with him," she said finally. "Noah. Yesterday."

Jazz's eyebrows shot up. "The billionaire?"

"Yeah."

"The one who had you investigated?"

"Yeah."

"The one who's old enough to be your dad?"

"Jazz, "

"I'm just making sure we're talking about the same person." Jazz leaned back, crossing her arms. "What happened?"

Ariella told her. The café. The walk in the park. The way he'd held her hand. The way he'd asked her to let him in. The way she'd said okay.

When she finished, Jazz was quiet for a long moment.

"You're falling for him," she said. It wasn't a question.

"I don't know, "

"You are. I can see it all over your face." Jazz shook her head. "Ariella, this is dangerous. You know that, right? This guy has money, power, resources. If he hurts you, he can destroy you. And he will hurt you. They always do."

"Not all men, "

"Don't." Jazz's voice was sharp. "Don't give me that 'not all men' crap. You know what happened with Brian. You know how that ended. And this guy? He's ten times more powerful than Brian ever was. If he decides he's done with you, he won't just break your heart. He'll obliterate you."

Ariella flinched. The words hit too close to home.

"I know," she whispered. "I know."

"Then why are you doing this?"

"Because I can't stop thinking about him." Ariella's voice cracked. "Because when I'm with him, I feel... I don't know. Seen. Like I matter. Like I'm not just some broke girl working two jobs to survive. He looks at me like I'm something precious, Jazz. No one's ever looked at me like that before."

Jazz's expression softened. She reached across the table and took Ariella's hand.

"I'm not trying to be the villain here," she said gently. "I just don't want to see you get hurt again. You've been through so much. You deserve someone who's going to love you right, not someone who's going to control you, or possess you, or use their money to keep you in line."

"He's not like that."

"You don't know that yet."

"I know what I feel."

"Feelings lie."

Ariella pulled her hand away. "So what am I supposed to do? Just walk away? Never take a chance on anyone ever again?"

"I'm not saying that." Jazz sighed. "I'm saying be careful. Keep your walls up a little longer. Don't give him everything until you know he deserves it."

Ariella was quiet for a moment. Then she nodded.

"Okay," she said. "I'll be careful."

Jazz studied her. "You're lying."

"I'm not."

"You're going to see him again."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to." Jazz stood and walked to the coffee maker. "Just promise me one thing."

"What?"

"If he hurts you, if he does anything, you come to me. Immediately. No hiding, no pretending everything's fine. You come to me."

Ariella hesitated. Then she nodded.

"I promise."

Jazz poured herself another cup of coffee. "Good. Now eat something. You look like you're going to pass out."

Ariella took a bite of toast and tried not to think about Noah. She failed.

Later that morning, in a penthouse across town, Noah was having his own internal war.

He sat at his desk, staring at his phone. Ariella's number was saved in his contacts, he'd added it after the coffee date, when she wasn't looking. He'd wanted to text her a hundred times since last night. He'd wanted to call her, hear her voice, make sure she was thinking about him the way he was thinking about her.

But he didn't. He couldn't.

Because he knew that if he started, he wouldn't be able to stop.

He was obsessed. He knew it. He'd known it since the moment he saw her behind that reception desk, looking tired and beautiful and utterly unimpressed by him. She was different from every woman he'd ever met, not impressed by his money, not intimidated by his power, not playing games. She was real. And he wanted her.

He wanted her so badly it scared him.

He picked up his phone and called Marcus.

"I need to talk."

"About what?"

"Ariella."

There was a pause. "Noah, it's Sunday morning. Can this wait?"

"No."

Marcus sighed. "Fine. What's going on?"

"I can't stop thinking about her. I've tried, I've thrown myself into work, I've gone to the gym, I've, nothing helps. She's in my head, Marcus. Constantly."

"That's called being in love, my friend."

"I'm not," Noah stopped. Was he in love? He'd only known her for a week. That was impossible. That was insane. "I'm not in love. I'm just... obsessed."

"Same thing."

"It's not the same thing."

"Okay, fine. You're obsessed. What are you going to do about it?"

Noah was silent for a moment. Then: "I'm going to see her again. Tonight."

"Tonight? You saw her yesterday."

"I know."

"Noah, "

"I can't help it." His voice was raw, honest. "I need to see her, Marcus. I need to be near her. I know it's crazy, I know it's too fast, but I can't stop myself. I've never felt like this before. Ever."

Marcus was quiet. Then he sighed.

"Just be careful," he said. "She's young, she's vulnerable, she's been hurt. Don't overwhelm her. Don't try to control her. Let her come to you."

"I don't know how to do that."

"I know." Marcus's voice was gentle. "But if you want this to work, you're going to have to learn."

Noah closed his eyes. "What if I mess it up?"

"Then you mess it up. But at least you'll have tried."

Noah nodded, even though Marcus couldn't see him.

"Thanks," he said. "I owe you one."

"You owe me a hundred. But who's counting?"

Noah laughed, a real laugh, surprising himself. He hung up and looked at his phone again.

Then he typed out a message.

Dinner. Thursday. No excuses.

He hit send before he could change his mind.

Three minutes later, his phone buzzed.

Bossy.

He smiled.

You have no idea.

She didn't respond. But she didn't say no either.

And for now, that was enough.

Ariella stared at her phone, her heart pounding.

She should say no. She should tell him she was busy. She should protect herself, keep her walls up, listen to Jazz.

Instead, she typed: Okay.

She hit send.

Then she threw her phone across the bed and screamed into her pillow.

She was in so much trouble.