A Secretive Deal with My Billionaire Boss (by Gregory Ellington) novel Chapter 370

**Wram 370**

**Chapter 370**

Madison

I found myself staring blankly at the very spot where Alexander’s sleek Aston Martin had been parked just moments ago. My fingers gripped the doorframe so tightly that my knuckles turned white, and a trembling sensation coursed through my hands. Five long years had passed in silence, and now he appeared as if nothing had ever happened. As if he hadn’t left me stranded when I needed him the most.

“Madison?” Christopher’s voice cut through my reverie, pulling me back to the present. “Are you okay? That guy seemed intense.”

I forced a smile, turning my gaze back toward the café. “I’m fine. Just an old boss from New York,” I replied, trying to sound casual.

“Just a boss?” Christopher raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched across his face. “He looked at you like you were the only person in the world.”

I felt my heart race at the memory of his gaze, but I quickly dismissed it. “He’s engaged,” I said flatly, moving behind the counter to busy myself. “And my break’s over.”

Christopher opened his mouth, as if he wanted to delve deeper, but wisely thought better of it. We’d shared exactly one date last month, which I had cut short with a polite but firm rejection of his attempt to kiss me goodnight. He was kind, successful, and undeniably attractive, but he wasn’t…

No. I wouldn’t allow myself to go there.

Instead, I threw myself into my work, wiping down tables that were already clean, rearranging the pastry display, anything to keep my hands occupied and my mind from spiraling over the fact that Alexander Knight had reentered my life after half a decade.

Why now? Why today?

And why did my heart still race when I saw him?

“Stupid,” I muttered under my breath, scrubbing at an imaginary stain on the counter.

“Did you say something?” Ellie asked, balancing a tray of dirty mugs as she approached.

“Nothing. Just thinking out loud,” I replied, forcing a lightness I didn’t feel.

The afternoon dragged on, each minute stretching into eternity. Every time the door swung open, my heart leaped, my head snapping up in anticipation of Alexander’s return, his infuriating confidence radiating through the room. But it was always someone else—Mrs. Grayson, with her usual request for earl grey, the twins clamoring for after-school cookies, regulars living their predictable lives.

Unlike me, whose world had just tilted sideways.

Christopher lingered until closing, alternating between typing away on his laptop and casting concerned glances my way. When I finally flipped the sign to closed, he stood, gathering his things.

“Want to grab dinner?” he asked, his voice laced with genuine concern. “You seem like you could use a friend.”

“Thanks, but I need to get home to my son,” I replied, the words feeling heavy on my tongue.

“Right. Your son,” he said, slinging his laptop bag over his shoulder. “Rain check?”

“Maybe,” I said, knowing we both understood what that ‘maybe’ truly meant.

After he left, I moved through the closing routine on autopilot. Cashing out the register, wiping down the espresso machine, stacking the chairs, and locking the back door. Usually, these familiar tasks calmed my racing thoughts, but tonight, they only provided me with more time to contemplate the whirlwind that was my life.

Anthony Williams. That was the name that had led Alexander straight to me. I recalled our brief encounter two weeks ago at the farmer’s market, where we had exchanged meaningless pleasantries. Or so I had thought. Apparently, he had gone directly to Alexander with the news.

At least it would keep my mind occupied, distracting me from replaying every moment of my encounter with Alexander. The way his cologne had enveloped me, that same expensive scent that used to linger on my clothes after nights spent in his penthouse. The intensity of his gaze, tracking my every movement as if I were a puzzle he needed to solve.

Mr. Knight. I had addressed him as Mr. Knight, as if the last five years had wiped our history clean. As if we were mere strangers instead of…

What? What had we truly been? An arrangement? A transaction? Sex in exchange for medical bills and a promotion I had earned on my own merit.

“Liar,” I chastised myself, turning onto my street. “You felt something. You always felt something.”

And therein lay the crux of the matter. I had been foolish enough to fall for a man who viewed me as a convenient arrangement. A man who had become engaged to someone else without so much as a word of warning. Who had never responded when I had sent him the life-altering message that I was pregnant.

I had sent that text five years ago, watching as he read it immediately, and then… nothing. An agonizing silence. Not a call, not a text, not even a simple “good luck with that.”

So I had left. I had quit my job, relocated to Connecticut, given birth to my son, and built a new life.

A good life. A happy life.

One that didn’t include Alexander Knight.

I pulled into my driveway, parking beside Hazel’s car. Through the living room window, I caught a glimpse of her on the floor, engaged in some elaborate game that involved toy trucks and over-the-top sound effects.

My son, Ethan, was perched on the couch, conducting the chaos with a wooden spoon, a mini maestro in his own right.

My heart swelled. Just four years old, and he was already exhibiting signs of his father’s commanding presence. The same dark hair, the same intense focus when something captured his attention. But his smile? That was all mine—wide, frequent, and utterly devastating.