The Billionaire's Dirty Secrets

CHAPTER 7 : GAME OF EYES

(Ronan’s POV)

I should’ve been reviewing the final guest list.

Instead, I stood behind the upper floor banister, scotch in hand, watching her.

Calla.

Below me, in the entertainment hall, she moved like the cleaning staff’s version of a dancer. She bent low to sweep under the antique settees, stretched to polish the high arched windows. Efficient. Focused. Oblivious.

Or pretending to be.

Elijah stood nearby, arms crossed, supervising like he always did. But I wasn’t watching Elijah.

It was her waist. The way that damn uniform hugged her hips. Her curls were tied up but messy, like she rushed it. Her face flushed, probably from the effort, or maybe the memory of last night.

Too late, she’d said.

Damn her.

I should’ve fired her for wandering into my wing. For the way she looked at me. For the way she made me think about things I had buried under marble and rules and control.

I didn’t. I couldn’t.

And now I was hiding upstairs like some deviant prince, drinking at noon.

"Looks like someone’s finally met his match."

I didn’t have to turn to recognize the voice. Dominic.

My younger brother leaned against the wall like he owned the damn place. Looser shirt, smug face, mischief in every movement.

"You’re early," I muttered.

"And yet, right on time." He followed my gaze. Grinned.

"So that’s her, huh? The girl in the hall? The one who pretends she’s invisible but clearly knows she’s not?"

I didn’t answer. Dominic never needed confirmation to run his mouth.

"She’s… breathtaking," he continued. "Like a porcelain ballerina someone dropped once and glued back together. Fragile but still dancing."

I shot him a look.

"What? I appreciate art."

"She’s staff," I said flatly.

"She’s something," he replied, eyes lingering a second too long. "You sleeping with her yet?"

"Get out."

He laughed, pushed off the wall, and strolled past me. "Don’t worry, big brother. I’ll keep my hands to myself. Unless she asks."

That bastard.

Downstairs, I saw him descend the staircase slowly, casually, like a tiger circling its prey. Calla looked up when he approached. Her eyes widened just a little. She said something polite. Dominic said something back that made her smile nervously.

And just like that, I was no longer sipping scotch. I was watching them.

Closely.

##################

(Calla’s POV)

I was dusting the massive piano when I saw him.

Not Ronan.

The other one. The younger version. Softer smile. Same eyes but with a wicked edge. He gave off the vibe of a bad boy but sweet natured. Between him and his brother, I think he is the dangerous one. Yet, I feel free around him unlike his Ronan's presence I have to be on guard at all times.

"Hi," he said, stopping just in front of me. No pretense. No hesitation.

"Hello," I answered, stepping back automatically. I don't know why I'm being causal when last night my causality almost caused me my job.

I mentally slapped myself.

He held out a hand. "Dominic Vexley. I don’t think we’ve officially met."

I glanced down at my cleaning gloves. "Sorry—"

He waved it off. "Right. Germs and bleach. Still. Nice to meet you, Calla."

He knew my name. Of course he did. This is his house also. He is technically my boss too.

"Pleasure, sir."

"Drop the sir, please. That’s my brother’s thing."

Yeah, he knew his brother very well.

He smiled at me like he already knew I wouldn’t.

"You work fast," he said, glancing around. "The place looks spotless."

"Just doing my job." I offered a tight smile.

"Your job must include haunting the halls at night too, huh?"

I froze.

He tilted his head, amused. "What? Elijah’s got a big mouth."

I flushed.

"Don’t worry," he said, leaning in like we were sharing secrets. "I’ve done worse in that wing. You just caught the wrong Vexley’s attention."

"I didn’t mean to catch anyone’s attention," I muttered.

"Oh, you did. You just don’t know it."

He was too close. Too charming. Too aware.

"I should get back to work," I said.

He didn’t move for a beat. Then smiled. "Don’t let me distract you. Just know—if you ever get bored of brooding and cold, I’m around."

I didn’t answer. I guess all Vexleys are the same whether Young or old. I shook my head and laughed inwardly.

He walked away.

And then I felt it. I knew that feeling. Same one from the library earlier.

A presence.

I turned slowly.

Upstairs. On the balcony.

Ronan stood there. Watching. Arms folded. Unreadable expression. But the air around him crackled.

I held his gaze for a second. Just one.

Not after last night or this morning in the office when he called. I feel my cheeks red and I tried to pretend that I wasn't hurt by anything.

I looked away.

But something told me he wouldn’t.

###########################

(Ronan’s POV)

Later that night, after the hall had been cleaned, and Elijah gave his perfect report, and Dominic conveniently vanished into the city, I still couldn’t stop thinking about the look on her face.

That flicker of discomfort. That nervous smile.

She hadn’t encouraged him. But she hadn’t exactly run either.

And it pissed me off more than I could admit.

She worked for me. She lived under my roof. She owed me nothing, and yet—

She’s mine.

The thought came uninvited. Like chills creeping on your skin.

I shut the bedroom door harder than necessary and reached for the remote to kill the lights.

But sleep wouldn’t come easy tonight.

Not when every part of me still burned with her name.