My Boss's Hidden Heir (Elara and Marcus) novel Chapter 43

WILLOW

We were neighbors.

Tristan and I were neighbors.

Finished

I stepped out of the car slowly, not looking at my new house but being wary of the house to my left despite the noticeable distance.

When I finally moved my gaze to the house built for me, I gasped. It was beautiful. The architecture was modern but warm, with tall glass panels framed by soft stone and wooden accents.

There was a landscaped garden stretching toward the side of the property, and beyond that, I could see the faint shimmer of water.

“A jacuzzi,” Rocco said proudly, noticing where my eyes landed. “And a heated pool behind it. The yard is large enough for gatherings, if you wish.”

Large enough was an understatement.

The backyard extended farther than I could process. The house itself was at least three times the size of any place I had ever lived in.

And yet, I could not take any of it in properly.

I kept glancing back to the property next to me, seeing if there was a possibility of running into each other. It was fortunate that we were separated by trees. However, there were some gaps between its trunks where one could definitely see the other.

It was absurd. It felt like the universe had grown bored and decided to play a cruel joke on me.

How could I have not noticed there was a house here yesterday?

“Miss Willow?”

Rocco’s voice broke through my thoughts.

“Do you not like it?”

I blinked, realizing I had been standing frozen in place.

“I do.” I said quickly. “It’s beautiful. It’s just… too much, I think.”

“I’m not used to it,” I admitted.

Rocco chuckled softly, locking the car behind us. “You’d better get used to it.”

I looked at him, confused.

“This is the place where your father wanted you to have a family,” he continued with a gentle smile. “He thought ahead.”

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13:56 Tue, May 12 M.

Chapter 43 Great View

Ruished

I choked on thin air.

“My father has already thought that far?” I managed.

Rocco nodded, a nostalgic warmth in his eyes. “Sir William always planned long–term.”

“I just need some time.” I said after a moment. “Everything is moving too fast, honestly. I’m trying to take it all in. However, is it alright if I don’t stay here every day yet?”

“Of course,” Rocco replied immediately. “It is entirely up to you. This house is yours. You decide how and when to use it.”

I nodded, grateful for the freedom.

“Would you like to see your bedroom?” he asked.

I hesitated for a second, then nodded again.

We stepped inside.

The interior mirrored the exterior’s elegance, but there was something softer about it.

Rocco led me upstairs.

When he opened the bedroom door, I froze again.

It actually looked simple.

One wall was painted a soft blush pink, subtle and sophisticated rather than childish. The rest of the room was cream, accented with gold details and textured fabrics that made the space feel homey.

The bed was large but inviting, layered with plush pillows and a light duvet.

It appeared quite comforting.

“This is nice,” I whispered.

Rocco smiled.

“I thought you would like it.”

I walked slowly toward the window, drawn by the natural light filtering through sheer curtains.

Without thinking too much, I reached out and pulled the curtains open fully.

And then I stopped breathing.

Directly across from my window, almost perfectly aligned, was another window.

A large one.

And behind it was Tristan.

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13:56 Tue, May 12 M.

Chapter 43 Great View

My stomach dropped.

He was inside his bedroom, completely unaware that I was staring at him.

Folcked

He was on his phone, his back partially turned, pacing slowly. He was wearing nothing but a pair of dark underwear that hung low on his hips, his abs on full display.

Even from afar, they appeared sculpted. The sunlight streaming into his room traced the lines of his body, highlighting muscle and shadow in a way that made my mouth go dry.

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly irritated about something he was hearing on the phone. His jaw was tight. His shoulders tense.

Then he stopped pacing.

He bent slightly to grab a pair of trousers from the edge of his bed.

My breath caught.

He slipped one leg in, then the other, all while holding the phone between his shoulder and ear.

He tucked the phone properly against his ear and pulled the pants up slowly, the fabric sliding over his hips.

I felt heat bloom under my skin.

This was wrong, but I could not look away.

He leaned one hand against the window frame suddenly, his forehead pressing lightly against the glass as though the conversation on the other end was exhausting him.

The position put him fully in view.

His profile.

His bare chest.

There was a slight tension in his expression.

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