Heaven or Hell: Loving My Twisted Billionaire novel Chapter 95

Heaven or Hell Loving My Twisted Billionaire.

Chapter 95

Hannah’s POV

The GPS announced our arrival as Amy pulled the car into the driveway of Finn’s villa. Though I’d been here once before, this was the first time I really took in the details. The building was all sharp angles and glass, its concrete and steel exterior both intimidating and

breathtaking against the backdrop of the endless ocean.

“Holy crap, Amy whispered beside me, her hands still gripping the steering wheel. “This place is… intense.”

I nodded, unable to find words. The villa was undeniably luxurious, but there was something cold about it–like a fortress designed to keep the world at bay rather than a place someone called home.

“Let’s get all this stuff inside,” I said, glancing at the mountain of shopping bags in the backseat. I’d spent the morning buying everything I thought would make this place feel more welcoming. Amy had raised her eyebrows more than once at the checkout counters, but she’d dutifully helped me load it all into the car.

We approached the massive front door, and I punched in the code Finn had texted me. The electronic lock clicked, and the heavy door swung open silently. I hesitated for just a moment before stepping inside, Amy following close behind with her arms full of bags.

The interior was exactly what I’d expected: minimalist to the extreme. The open floor plan revealed a space dominated by black, white, and gray. Floor–to–ceiling windows showcased the spectacular ocean view, but the furniture was sparse and utilitarian–a large black leather sectional, glass coffee tables, and chrome accents. Not a single personal item in sight. No photographs, no books, no mementos. Nothing that said someone actually lived here.

“This is like a museum,” Amy muttered, setting down her bags. “Or a fancy hotel room. Does he actually live here?”

I ran my fingers along a cold marble countertop. “I don’t think he’s been here much. It’s more like… a place to sleep, not a home.” I tried

to imagine Finn moving through these sterile spaces alone, and my heart ached. “But we’re going to change that.”

I clapped my hands together, suddenly energized. “Alright, let’s get started. Can you unpack those bags with the pillows and throws? I’ll tackle the lighting first.”

Amy’s eyes widened. “You’re really going all–in on this, aren’t you?”

“This place needs to feel like a home, not an art installation,” I said, already unwrapping a warm–toned floor lamp. “Everyone deserves a place that feels like home, especially Finn.”

For the next few hours, we transformed the living room. I replaced the harsh overhead lights with warm–toned lamps that cast a golden glow throughout the space. The black leather sofa disappeared beneath an array of soft orange and cream pillows, with a chunky knit throw draped casually across one end. I hung several vibrant abstract paintings on the stark white walls, their colors bringing life to the monochrome space.

In the corners, tall potted plants added touches of green, while the glass coffee tables now held art books, candles, and a vase of fresh

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Chapter 95

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flowers. The space still maintained its modern edge, but now it felt inviting rather than intimidating.

“It’s like one of those home makeover shows.” Amy said, stepping back to admire our work. “The before and after is pretty dramatic

I smiled, pleased with the transformation. “Let’s tackle the kitchen next.”

The kitchen was state–of–the–art, with sleek appliances that looked like they’d never been used. When I opened a drawer full of cooking utensils, I found price tags still attached.

“I don’t think he’s ever cooked here,” I said, pulling out a brand–new set of pots and pans.

Amy laughed. “Can you cook?”

“Not even a little bit,” I admitted with a grin. “I’ve survived on school cafeteria food and takeout for years.”

“I can teach you some basics,” Amy offered, already opening the refrigerator to examine its contents. “My mom taught me all her Colombian recipes when I was growing up.”

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Heaven or Hell: Loving My Twisted Billionaire: