Heaven or Hell: Loving My Twisted Billionaire novel Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Hannah’s POV

I wandered aimlessly through the garden, my mind replaying the

moment when Finn’s expression changed like a storm cloud suddenly

darkening a clear sky. One minute we were having something

resembling a conversation, and the next–his face had hardened into

granite when I’d mentioned our “transaction.”

That single word had triggered something in him. Something dark

and dangerous. I had braced myself for violence, but he’d simply

walked away without another word.

That was even more terrifying.

I spent the entire day on edge, constantly looking over my shoulder,

afraid Finn would appear suddenly with that cold, merciless look in

his eyes–well, behind his glasses. The mansion was huge, but

somehow it felt like a cage, with me as the trapped animal waiting for

the predator to pounce.

When evening finally arrived, I retreated to my suite, convinced Finn

would show up like he had the previous night. I took a long shower,

put on one of the modest robes I’d found in a drawer, and sat

nervously on the edge of the bed.

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Minutes ticked by. Then hours.

Nothing.

No footsteps in the hallway. No sudden appearance. No Finn.

My fear gradually transformed into something else–anxiety about

failing my mission. I glanced at the small calendar on the nightstand.

Four days. That’s all I had left according to the contract. Four days to

get pregnant or the whole arrangement would collapse like a house of

cards.

What would I tell Victoria tomorrow if she asked about progress?

What would happen to Peter’s treatment if I couldn’t fulfill my end of

the bargain?

I stood up, my heart pounding against my ribs. I couldn’t just sit here

waiting. I couldn’t fail–not when Peter’s life depended on it. I

rummaged through the drawers, bypassing the revealing nightgowns

I’d been provided, and found a simple t–shirt and pants that I could

wear outside my room.

The hallway was dimly lit and silent when I slipped out. I had no idea

where Finn’s quarters were located, but I needed to find him. I needed

to fix whatever I’d broken with that careless word.

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I spotted Amy down the corridor, gathering sheets from one of the

many linen closets.

“Amy,” I whispered, causing her to jump and nearly drop the stack of

perfectly folded bedding.

“Hannah! You scared me!” She clutched the sheets to her chest. “What

are you doing wandering around at this hour?”

“I need to find Finn’s room,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady

despite the nervous flutter in my stomach. “Do you know where it is?”

Amy’s eyes widened until I could see the whites all around her irises.

The color drained from her face as if I’d suggested we go swimming

with sharks.

“Hannah, no one goes to young Mr. Sterling’s rooms!” Her voice was

barely above a whisper. “Last month, a new maid just knocked on his

door and was fired on the spot. Nobody disturbs him there–it’s

forbidden!”

I swallowed hard but stood my ground. “I need to see him, Amy. It’s

important.”

She stared at me for a long moment, conflict evident in her

expression. Finally, she sighed. “I can only take you to the corridor

Chapter 15

entrance. After that, you’re on your own. And if anyone asks, I never

helped you, okay?”

“Thank you,” I said, relief flooding through me.

Amy led me through a maze of hallways, each turn taking us deeper

into a part of the mansion I’d never seen before. The décor gradually

changed the warm, elegant furnishings giving way to stark,

minimalist design. The lights grew dimmer, the atmosphere heavier.

“This is the west wing,” Amy explained in a hushed tone. “Mr. Finn

has this entire section to himself.”

We climbed a narrow staircase and stopped at the entrance to a long,

shadowy corridor. The walls here were bare, painted a deep charcoal

gray with no artwork or decoration. The lighting was so dim I could

barely make out the end of the hallway.

“That black door at the end,” Amy pointed with a trembling finger.

“That’s Mr. Finn’s room.”

She turned to me, her eyes pleading. “Hannah, please reconsider.

Nobody knows what happens behind that door. It’s not worth risking.”

“I have to try,” I insisted.

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Amy gave me one last concerned look before hurrying away, leaving

me alone in the silence.

The hallway seemed to stretch forever as I took one hesitant step

after another. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure it would give me

away before I even reached the door. A security camera tracked my

movement from the ceiling, its red light blinking like a warning.

With each step, I reminded myself why I was doing this: For Peter.

For Edward. For the two million dollars that would save a life.

Finally, I stood before the imposing black door. An electronic lock

glowed faintly beside it, suggesting that not just anyone could enter-

even if they dared to try.

I raised my hand to knock, my fingers trembling slightly. The sound

seemed absurdly loud in the silent corridor. I waited, holding my

breath, but there was no response.

I knocked again, a little harder this time.

Still nothing.

“Is he not here?” I whispered to myself, feeling both disappointed and

relieved.

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I leaned forward, pressing my ear against the cool surface of the door,

straining to hear any movement inside.

Without warning, the door swung inward. I lost my balance and fell

forward, colliding with a solid wall of muscle. That familiar scent of

expensive cologne filled my nostrils as strong hands steadied me—

then abruptly tensed.

“Apparently your popularity isn’t what it should be if no one warned

you about coming to my room.” Finn’s voice was cold as ice, sending

shivers down my spine.

I stepped back, my heart racing. “Someone did warn me, I admitted.

“But I came anyway.”

His mouth twisted into a mocking smile. “So eager?” The words

dripped with sarcasm.

I opened my mouth to explain that I wanted to finish what we’d

started, to fulfill my promise–but stopped myself just in time. The

word ‘transaction hovered on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed

it back, remembering his reaction in the garden.

Too late. His expression darkened as if he’d read my mind.

“Shut up,” he snapped. “Stop with your damn transaction theories!”

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Before I could respond, he grabbed my arm and yanked me into his

room, slamming the door behind us. With surprising strength, he

shoved me toward what I assumed was his bed. I fell backward onto

the soft surface, my pulse hammering in my ears.

“You know my room is off–limits to everyone,” he said, his voice

dangerously quiet. “But clearly you don’t understand the

consequences. Let me educate you right now.”

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