The Billionaire's Creed

D

hates

ient was. And honestly, I was picturing an old bald billionaire in

lients because of our little dispute. I was taught to be better t

our business—boosting the

Did Mr. Creed sexually assault y

hands, but that was not the point. “Nothing

w what was in his head. His eyes may be focuse

ness. We kept in mind that client was client no matter their social status. We loved what

hatever issue I had with Mykel, we had to

u’re okay to wor

e’s not the most difficult client we’ve had.

ffed. “Ho

me because he thinks I’m overreacting and

his project.” Blaze knew me pretty well, considering we’

told him that I

fore he parked the car

st a joke,

otion.” He gave me a look one more t

ld not be available until Tuesday. Before we left his impressive penthouse, he made sure to

*

copy of the design I made yesterday. Instead, he emailed my person

with Mr. Creed at ten. I

y looked at me as she checked the monitor screen.

er. “Can you double

e, and I knew how hard to get a job at a billion-do

ou’re not on his appointment. I can reschedule you for an

Thanks.” My jaw clenched a

way. “Hey, Miss Kross

sent me an email saying Tuesday, ten a.m, offi

ver the phone as if she

at suppose

d is his penthouse office. He just left five m

I hung up

a suit, came to me with a broad smi

dbag and my tote. It was a little bit hea

When he asked to drive me to t

y and smelled musk. Everything abou

, and he led me to the o

k you

welcome,

p voice behind the door, which I rec

ing on the blanket on the floor with a basket, some plates, two glasses, and a bottle of red wine.

e m

walk away, but Blaze’s ang

and drew in

y slept from the flight last night. Then I woke up lat

Your email signature is way longer than the body. Text

. And noted, I will text you.” I

tant to email me if you are

wanna give you the impression of a malicious id

it,” I replied as I plac

in

hanks. I had

a wine, Adley. I promise thi

eyes. I sighed. “Fine, it’

t there, or maybe he didn’t want a stranger to be in his kitchen. Some people were very prot

was staring at me. His foc

ha

is head. “

son. Have you taken a look

graphic design. Have you tried painting?” He lo

it into my nose. When I took a sip, I knew it

lot of women. My stomach began twisting up in knots as if reminding me he was a

I asked as I waved away

essed i

what

e w

a conno

. You did not an

llege. My kind of family had no time for art. As rebellious as I was,

to see if he knew something about me. Al

ha

rniture. And the executive desk, I gave you

ffice, is there anything you

k glass top desk.”

t it before he agr

connection to order in a French luxury brand, or do you pr

told me that you’re

? And it looks like the rest of your pe

y laptop on the kitchen island and was okay with that for almost a year. I kept telling myself that I

mean our company,” I

y me,

hings to say. So I scrambled to my feet. Mykel did the same, du

he other

gott

e barrier between us. Like you built y

e when I a

t trust you, or just m

d, our clients were sat

pang of strange guilt into my chest. “M

It was just a wrong app

ood?” He exte

d around and wa

e, he had already pressed his hand

tall he was, he was overshadowing me, and with his p

sed my li

r my wits before I turned to face him. I met his gaze, and he was staring b

since I get what I want to finish what I started, we don’t have to see each other ag

professional, I was losing my patience. I handled difficult clients before because it was

we’re good, Adl

ou to work with you. In

Suit yo