Rejected by my Ex, Claimed by His Billionaire Boss

Backed herself into a corner

Renee shoved Killian’s arm aside and bolted up the grand staircase.

She retreated to her room, clutching her phone, and slammed the door shut.

After twisting the lock, she collapsed onto the bed and pressed her face into the pillows.

"I will never forgive him," she whispered, tears soaking the fabric.

The depth of her pain surprised her; even the collapse of her last relationship hadn't cut this deep.

She skipped dinner, the ache in her stomach matching her resentment, and cursed Killian until exhaustion finally pulled her into a fitful sleep.

The next morning, she rose before the sun and slipped out of the house without preparing his breakfast.

Although the contract demanded she tend to his morning needs, she could not bring herself to play the part.

When she reached the executive floor, she bypassed the kitchen staff and went straight to the communal kitchenette.

She stood in the quiet space, and prepared an instant coffee for herself.

Renee took a sip of her coffee just as a man stepped into the kitchenette. He studied her with a mix of professional curiosity and skepticism.

"You’re the CEO's personal assistant, right?" he asked, extending a hand. "I’m George, the Director's assistant."

Renee offered a tight, polite smile. "Yes, that’s me."

"That’s a surprise," George said, his tone sharpening with interest. "CEO Killian has never hired a woman for this role before. How exactly did you manage to land it?"

The weight of the office gossip from the previous day pressed in on her, and she had no interest in dissecting her hiring process. "I need to get back. If the schedule isn't finalized, the CEO will have my head."

She dropped her empty cup into the bin and brushed past him, retreating toward her workspace.

Once she reached her desk, she gripped the edge of the mahogany surface to steady her racing heart.

She pulled up the system, methodically clearing her inbox according to Mark’s instructions before turning her attention to the day’s agenda.

She spent a few minutes reordering the meetings for better flow and dispatched the final schedule.

Just as she sat back, the sound of rhythmic, heavy footsteps echoing against the marble floors caught her attention.

She looked up and saw Killian striding in her direction.

Her pulse quickened.

Without a word, she pushed her chair back, scrambled to her feet, and veered away in the opposite direction.

She knew she couldn't avoid him indefinitely given the nature of their contract, but for now, the instinct to escape was the only thing she could manage.

~~~~

Killian’s gaze followed Renee as she ducked away, his jaw tightening into a hard, rigid line. He stormed into his office and dropped into his desk chair, frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

"What the hell is wrong with her?" he muttered.

He reached out and pressed the bell, but seconds stretched into a minute, and Renee did not appear.

His irritation spiked. Was this how she intended to play him?

He was accustomed to employees trembling under his scrutiny, but Renee was different.

A cold realization settled in his chest; perhaps he had signed the marriage contract with the wrong person.

Finally, the door opened, and Renee stepped inside. She offered a stiff, formal greeting, her eyes fixed firmly on the floorboards to avoid meeting his gaze.

Killian didn't miss the coldness. "What is with that attitude?" he demanded. "Keep your personal baggage outside that door. This is a professional environment."

"When have I ever brought personal drama into this office?" Renee retorted, her voice climbing in volume.

Killian ignored the question, his gaze hardening. "You left the house before I did this morning. Do you have any idea what the contract terms actually are? You’re provided a roof over your head to follow my orders, not to defy them."

He was still hungry, having skipped dinner the night before and now breakfast, and the lack of service only fueled his irritation.

"I didn't sign a slave contract," Renee countered, her chin lifting defiantly. "I’m your wife, not your subordinate. If you’re so desperate to kick me out, just say the words."

"Fine. Get out of my house," Killian spat, his voice devoid of warmth.

Renee stiffened, genuinely stunned that he had dared to say it. But she wasn't without leverage.

"Try me," she snapped, a dangerous edge to her tone. "I’ll go straight to your grandfather. I’m sure he’d love to hear exactly how his grandson treats his wife."

Killian’s composure shattered. He slammed both palms onto the desk and lunged to his feet.

He crossed the distance between them in a heartbeat, his sudden, predatory movement forcing her to scramble backward.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she realized she had backed herself into a corner.

His both hands trapped her between him and the wall.

“Do you really think Grandpa will help you?”