THE BUNNY IS MINE

Chapter 1

I never intended to find myself in this kind of mess. A mistake? It barely covers the scope of what happened. But as I stared into the bustling night of California from the high-rise window, my thoughts swirled back to that fateful evening, the choices I made, and the whirlwind that followed.

It all started with Thomas. My ex. The man I'd thought was my forever until I found him entangled with Melissa-my stepsister, of all people. The betrayal cut deep, a twisted knife of anger, confusion, and raw hurt. The pain left me hollow, and that night, I did the only thing I could think of to drown it: I went out, alone, and drank until the memories blurred. But they didn't disappear, not entirely.

I barely remember stumbling into the upscale bar, its sleek interiors and ambient lighting hazy through my clouded vision. Somewhere along the way, I ended up talking to Mark-the man everyone in California whispered about, the multibillionaire who owned Multiverse Books and a staggering array of other businesses. His reputation preceded him; sharp, calculated, untouchable. And yet, in that moment, he didn't feel like a figure of power but a stranger willing to listen.

Our conversation started with the usual pleasantries, but there was something in his gaze, a curiosity that seemed almost... personal. And, somehow, that look was what led us from the bar to his penthouse suite, a quiet escape from the world and my own spinning thoughts.

That night changed everything. I woke up, the reality of what I'd done settling in my stomach like lead. I could barely look at him as I dressed and left. The shame was overwhelming, the knowledge that I'd let my hurt push me into something reckless.

I'd hoped that was the end of it-that our paths wouldn't cross again. But life, it seemed, had different plans.

---

Weeks later, I returned to a sense of normalcy-or at least, I tried. My routine brought me back to work, where I was an editor at a small publishing house. The day had started like any other, filled with manuscripts and coffee, until I received a call from my boss.

"Lydia," he said, voice strained. "We're scheduled to have a meeting with the Multiverse Books team today. You're leading it."

The name hit me like a wave. Multiverse Books. Mark's company.

I managed a steady response, but my heart felt heavy. I had to face him-professionally, at least. I braced myself, knowing I'd have to keep everything strictly business.

Hours later, I found myself in a sleek conference room, seated among my colleagues. The door opened, and in walked Mark, his presence commanding the room instantly. Our eyes met briefly, and I could swear I saw a hint of recognition, a spark of something unspoken between us. I quickly looked away, focusing on the papers in front of me.

The meeting was all business, thankfully. We discussed potential collaborations, projects, and timelines. Mark's voice was calm, his tone confident. He seemed unfazed by my presence, which somehow made me feel both relieved and disappointed.

But as the meeting wrapped up, Mark's assistant approached me. "Mr. Collins would like to speak with you privately," she said, her tone polite yet firm.

I nodded, masking my nerves as I followed her into a smaller office adjacent to the conference room. Mark was waiting, his expression unreadable. He motioned for me to sit.

"Lydia," he began, his voice measured, "we didn't exactly part on clear terms."

My cheeks flushed, embarrassment mingling with the remnants of hurt from that night. "Mark, I... it was a mistake. I wasn't myself."

He held up a hand. "I'm not here to judge. I just wanted to ensure there are no misunderstandings. We're working together now, and I value professionalism."

I nodded, meeting his gaze. "Of course. I do too."

The conversation was brief, but as I left his office, I felt a strange sense of relief, like a weight had lifted. Perhaps this was the closure I needed, a way to finally put that night behind me and move on.

---

Days turned into weeks, and the collaboration with Multiverse Books progressed smoothly. I found myself interacting with Mark more frequently than I'd expected, but our exchanges were always formal, almost distant. He was polite, attentive in meetings, yet he kept a professional boundary between us, which I was grateful for... mostly.

But one afternoon, as I was wrapping up my workday, my phone buzzed with a message. It was from Mark.

*"Are you free to discuss some project details over dinner? I believe a less formal setting might allow us to cover more ground."*

My heart skipped a beat. This was unexpected, but his message was straightforward. It was, after all, about work.

*"Sure. Where and when?"* I replied.

An hour later, I found myself at a quiet restaurant tucked away from the bustling city streets. Mark was already there, seated at a corner table with a view of the city skyline. He stood as I approached, offering a polite nod.

"Thank you for meeting me on such short notice," he said as I took a seat.

We ordered our meals, and as we waited, he brought up a few project points, his focus sharp, but his tone casual. It felt strange, sitting across from him like this, discussing work in such an intimate setting. Yet, I found myself relaxing, the awkwardness from our past encounter slowly fading.