Bought by the billionaire boss

The morning after everything changed

When I opened my eyes, I wasn’t alone.

Elias was still beside me.

Still shirtless. Still wrapped around me like I belonged to him.

His chest rose and fell with a steady rhythm, but his grip on my waist hadn’t loosened, even in sleep. It was like his body refused to let me go.

And I didn’t want to move.

But the second I did—slow, careful, trying not to wake him—his hand tightened.

“Don’t,” he murmured, voice still laced with sleep.

I froze.

“I wasn’t leaving,” I whispered.

His eyes opened. “Good.”

There was silence between us then. Not awkward. Not heavy.

Just full.

Full of everything we couldn’t say yet. Everything we felt but didn’t want to name.

“I meant what I said last night,” he said quietly.

I turned to face him. “About what?”

“About being wrong.”

My throat tightened. “So what does that mean?”

He exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair. “It means this contract is starting to feel like a lie.”

“And the rest of it?”

He looked at me. Really looked.

“It’s starting to feel like the truth.”

---

We didn’t talk much that day. Not because we were avoiding it—but because neither of us wanted to ruin the softness that lingered between us.

But peace never lasted long in Elias Thorne’s world.

By evening, the silence was shattered.

Victor barged into the penthouse with a look that made my stomach twist.

“You need to see this,” he said, tossing a tablet onto the table.

Elias picked it up. His jaw locked.

“What is it?” I asked.

He just turned the screen so I could see.

A photo.

Of us.

In bed.

Faces hidden in shadow, but unmistakably real. Raw. Intimate.

And under it?

A headline: *“Mrs. Thorne: More Than a Contract?”*

My stomach dropped.

“Who took that?”

Victor’s voice was sharp. “We don’t know yet. But someone got close.”

Elias stood, stone-cold now. All emotion wiped from his face like it had never been there.

“This ruins everything,” he muttered.

I stepped back. “So what… now I’m a liability?”

His jaw ticked. “No. You’re the reason they’re coming for me.”

The words stung worse than a slap.

I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off.

“I need to handle this. Alone.”

“You’re pushing me out.”

“I’m protecting you.”

“No,” I snapped, heart pounding. “You’re running.”

He didn’t deny it.

He just looked away.

And for the first time since we started this game…

It didn’t feel fake anymore.

It felt like goodbye.

—