The Billionaire’s Ledger : Accounting His Heart

Chapter 4: Dangerous Collision

SOLENE FROST

Eden Luxe Hotel. Penthouse suite. 7 PM. Confidential.

My brain short-circuited. Penthouse? Seriously?

But I shoved away any inappropriate fantasies. This is business. It has to be.

When I arrived at the Eden Luxe, I wore a modest ivory blouse tucked into black trousers. Professional. Safe. Absolutely no skin showing except for my throat.

Paul had told me not to knock—that the door would be open.

I stepped deeper into the penthouse, careful not to let my heels click too loudly on the marble floors.

“Paul?” I called again, softer this time.

No answer. Just the hiss of running water echoing from the bathroom.

Get a grip, Solene, I scolded myself. This is business. You’re here to talk about the audit, not… ogle your client naked.

But my traitorous brain was already conjuring images of him in the shower. Water running down his chest. Steam clinging to his skin.

I swallowed, cheeks burning, and crept closer to the half-open bathroom door.

I was about to leave—

—when the door suddenly flew open.

A blast of warm, fragrant steam rushed out.

And there he was.

Paul stepped out, dripping wet, completely unaware I was standing there.

His dark hair clung in damp waves around his forehead. Droplets slid over firm, sculpted muscles and down the deep grooves of his abs. A towel hung low on his hips, revealing far too much of those sinfully carved V-lines.

My eyes went huge. My brain emptied.

He turned—and froze when he saw me.

“s**t!” he barked, eyes wide.

I squeaked, my voice barely a gasp. “Oh my god—”

He tried to jerk away from me, but his feet slipped on the wet marble.

“Paul!” I shrieked, but he crashed straight into me before I could move.

I fell backward with a breathless yelp, hitting the cold floor—and suddenly I had six feet of wet, half-naked CEO sprawled on top of me.

My entire body went hot and cold at the same time.

Paul’s weight pinned me down, one muscular arm braced on the floor beside my head. His chest heaved against mine, slick and burning. Drops of water fell onto my cheeks.

We stared at each other, breathing hard.

I felt his breath on my lips. My gaze dropped to his mouth, and my mind flashed with images I absolutely did not have permission to think about.

“Uh… hi?,” I croaked.

His eyes flicked down my face, and then pure panic crossed his features.

“Wait. Don’t move.” His voice came out low and strained.

“Why—?”

“My towel,” he hissed.

I stared at him in horror. “Oh my god.”

“Cover your eyes, Solene.”

“I—”

“Now!”

With trembling fingers, I slapped my hands over my face. My entire body was trembling too—for multiple reasons I’d rather not admit.

Above me, I felt him trying to push himself up.

Instead, his slippery feet shot out from under him again.

“Oof!” I wheezed as he crashed back down.

“Sorry—sorry—s**t—don’t look—”

“Are you naked?!” I squealed, hands still over my eyes.

“Mostly!” he croaked. “Goddamn marble floors—hold still—”

I felt him shifting again, trying to lift himself, but he slipped a third time, his knee sliding between my legs. I bit back a humiliating moan.

“Paul—”

“Don’t. Move.” His voice was strangled, as if he was trying not to notice where we were pressed together.

Somewhere in the chaos, I heard a fabric snap.

“Oh my god,” I whispered. “Your towel—”

“I know! Don’t look!”

He somehow managed to grab a spare towel hanging from a hook above us. I felt him drape it around himself, his breathing ragged.

Finally, the weight lifted off me as he staggered upright, clutching the new towel around his waist.

I peeked through my fingers.

“Solene!” he snapped. “Eyes. Closed.”

“Sorry!” I squeaked, squeezing them shut again.

Seconds later, I felt a gentle tug at my elbow.

“Okay,” he said, voice tight. “You can look. I’m… decent. Wait for me, I’ll go get changed”

I lowered my hands cautiously.

Paul stood above me, dripping wet, two towels wrapped around him like a makeshift toga. His face was bright red.

My own skin felt molten.

Before either of us could say a word, the doorbell rang.

We both jerked like we’d been electrocuted.

Paul threw a murderous look toward the door. “Of all the goddamn times—”

He turned to me, his jaw tightening.

“Stay here. Don’t make a sound.”

“Who is it?” I whispered, my heart racing. But I shouted, “Don’t tell me we’re gonna hide again?! Enough is enough I’m already out of—” But he pressed his hand to my lips, fixing me with an intense stare. “- breath…”

He didn’t answer. He just clenched his jaw, wiped a stream of water off his face, and stalked toward the front door—still half naked and dripping.

He walked over and opened the door.

Standing there, framed in the doorway, was a stunning woman who looked like she’d stepped straight off a runway. Her hair was glossy and curled in perfect waves, her lips painted a seductive red.

Before Paul could even speak, the woman let out a delighted squeal and threw her arms around his neck.

My mouth dropped open.

She pressed herself against him, her laugh ringing through the penthouse as she buried her face in his damp chest. Paul stiffened, caught off guard, and raised a hand awkwardly to pat her back.

Every nerve in my body went electric.

Heat and embarrassment surged up my neck. I was suddenly painfully aware that I was standing in Paul’s penthouse—alone, disheveled from that ridiculous fall, still flushed from the near-naked fiasco a minute ago.

Panic clawed at me.

What if she sees me?

“Paul!” the woman cooed, her voice dripping with affection. “I missed you so much.”

Paul let out a low, uncomfortable sound. “Brielle, what are you doing here?”

A cold weight settled in my chest.

“…can’t just show up unannounced,” Paul was saying, his voice tight.

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Brielle purred. “I wanted to surprise you. Aren’t you happy to see me?”

I should get out right now.

And that was how I found myself hiding in the room, my heart in my throat, and a million questions spinning in my head—wondering who Brielle was, and what the hell I was supposed to do next.

From behind the bedroom door, I pressed my ear against the wood, straining to hear every word.

“…Brielle, I told you not to come here unannounced,” Paul’s voice snapped from the other side of the penthouse.

“Oh, come on, Paul,” Brielle replied in a sweet, singsong tone. “Don’t act like you’re not happy to see me. You’ve been avoiding me for weeks.”

My stomach twisted.

I closed my eyes and clenched my fists. Jealousy was not an emotion I wanted to admit I felt. I barely knew Paul. Okay… I’d seen a lot of him. In ways I couldn’t un-see. But still.

Paul’s tone dropped, colder than I’d ever heard it. “Brielle, I’m serious. I have a meeting right now. You need to leave.”

“Oh, fine,” Brielle sighed dramatically.

Moments later, I heard the front door slam.

Who the hell is Brielle? Girlfriend? Ex? Fling? Someone he’s hiding from the press?

I glanced at myself in the bedroom mirror and groaned. My hair was damp and sticking to my cheeks. There were tiny wet spots all over my blouse where Paul’s dripping chest had pressed against me.

I rummaged through the drawers and found a clean white towel. I quickly started blotting the water from my blouse, trying to tame my hair.

That’s when the door swung open.

Paul stood in the doorway, hair still damp but dressed now in dark trousers and a crisp white shirt.

He froze. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of me drying my chest with a towel.

“Oh—s**t—sorry!” he blurted, turning his back so fast he nearly knocked over a lamp.

My face went up in flames. “It’s—it’s fine. I’m decent.”

Paul kept facing away. “I swear I didn’t know you were in here.”

“I figured.”

He cleared his throat. “Um. Are you… ready for the meeting?”

“Yeah. One second.” I shoved the towel aside and smoothed my hair as best I could.

A few minutes later, we both sat in the penthouse’s living area, a safe, respectful distance apart on the massive sectional sofa.

Paul seemed to have recovered his cold CEO composure. He flipped open a leather folder and handed me a few pages.

“These are the ledgers from the last quarter,” he said. “I assume you’ve already looked at some preliminary reports.”

I nodded, gripping the papers, trying not to think about the towel incident. “I have. And… I’ve noticed discrepancies. Some significant entries don’t match the supporting ledgers. Expenses routed through shell vendors, payments duplicated, several invoices marked confidential.”

Paul’s jaw tensed. His eyes flicked to mine. “I’m trying to trace who’s authorizing these transactions. I suspect Jordan, but I need proof before I go to the board.”

I swallowed. “Are you saying he’s… embezzling?”

“I’m saying I don’t trust him. And neither did your father.”

I blinked. “What do you mean?”

Paul hesitated, then leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Your dad wasn’t just my external auditor, Solene. He was helping me investigate this months ago. Quietly. I think… he might have found something big before he died.”

My heart stuttered.

So Dad really didn’t tell anyone about this and he really didn’t finish his task…

Paul’s eyes were on mine, unreadable. “I need you to finish what he started.”

A chill ran down my spine. “And if I find proof… what happens next?”

His gaze turned hard. “Then I’ll deal with Jordan myself or whoever it is.”

A shiver went through me—not entirely from fear.

My voice came out barely a whisper. “Okay. I’ll help you.”

The next day,I was on my way to deliver the “clean” audit reports—the ones Paul and I agreed to show publicly to keep up appearances.

As I approached a traffic light, I glanced into the rearview mirror and felt my stomach drop.

A black sedan.

I made another turn—sharp enough to squeal the tires.

On pure instinct, I stabbed the button on my steering wheel to call Paul.

“Solene?” Paul’s deep voice came through, clipped and cool. “I’m in the middle of a meeting. What is it?”

“Paul—” My voice cracked as I glanced in the mirror again. “I—I think someone’s following me.”

“Where are you? ”There was a moment of silence on the line. “Solene? Answer me!” Paul barked.

CRAAASHHHH!!!!!

Moments later, sirens wailed as rescue crews poured onto the scene.

I tried to keep my eyes open, but darkness clawed at the edges of my vision.

The last thing I saw was Paul’s face, fierce and protective, before everything went black.

-J. Maitel