Second Marriage, The Billionaire's Planned Love novel Chapter 8

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8 Chapter 8 Preparing for War

8 Chapter 8 Preparing for War

Ivy’s POV

The elevator doors opened, and I spotted Zoe immediately. Her blonde hair caught the evening light as she waved from her parked car, but I could see the worry etched in her expression.

“There’s my corporate warrior!” she called out, opening her arms for a hug. “How was your first day in the big leagues?”

I collapsed against her with a shaky laugh. “I’m pretty sure I’m getting murdered

tomorrow.”

Zoe pulled back, her eyes widening with alarm. “What? Already? What the hell happened?”

“I went to war with my boss over the phone,” I admitted, wincing at how suicidal it

sounded when said out loud.

Zoe’s eyes went wide before she burst into incredulous laughter. “You did what? Oh my God, Ivy! Do you have any idea who you’re working for?”

“It’s not funny!” I protested, but a reluctant smile tugged at my lips. “He was being an absolute tyrant.”

“Mommy!” A high-pitched voice called from the backseat. I peered in to see my beautiful three-year-old son, his rare ice-blue eyes lighting up at the sight of me-eyes that still made my heart ache with memories I couldn’t quite grasp.

“Hi, sweetheart!” I leaned in to plant kisses all over his chubby cheeks, my heart melting as it did every time I saw him. “Were you good for Aunt Zoe today?”

Max nodded enthusiastically, clutching his favorite toy dinosaur. “We got ice cream!”

I shot Zoe a look as I climbed into the passenger seat. “Before dinner? Really?”

“Don’t start,” Zoe warned, sliding behind the wheel. “Now, tell me everything. I want all the details about this boss from hell.”

As she pulled into traffic, I recounted both phone calls with Caleb Thorne. By the time I finished, Zoe was staring at me with a mixture of horror and admiration.

“So this guy-who runs one of the most dangerous operations in the city-basically

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8 Chapter 8 Preparing for War

tried to intimidate you, and you told him to go fuck himself?” She gripped the steering wheel tighter. “That’s my girl, but Jesus Christ, Ivy.”

“Heidi said it was some kind of test,” I explained, “but now he’s coming in tomorrow, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to disappear into the harbor.”

“Show me his message,” Zoe demanded.

I pulled out my encrypted work phone and showed her his text: “Arriving tomorrow. We’ll discuss your… duties. Prepare the chamomile tea.”

“Ooh, he sounds lethal,” Zoe whistled. “Please tell me he’s not some crusty old monster. If you’re going to die, at least let it be at the hands of someone attractive.”

“I don’t know!” I replied. “I haven’t even seen him in person. Heidi mentioned he’s quite young to be running such a… complex organization, but that’s all I know.”

Zoe grinned dangerously. “A young, powerful crime boss? This could get very interesting.”

“Stop it,” I warned. “I’m a single mom who desperately needs this job to keep us safe. The last thing I need is to get involved with someone that dangerous.”

‘Speaking of jobs,” Zoe said, her smile growing wider, “guess who just got hired at that exclusive PR firm downtown?”

I gasped. “You did? Zoe, that’s incredible!”

‘I know! The interview went perfectly, and I start next week. We’re both climbing the

ladder now!”

We high-fived as Max giggled in the backseat, mimicking our excitement without understanding the dangerous world we were navigating.

“Where to now?” Zoe asked. “Home to plan your survival strategy?”

I checked my watch. “Actually, can we stop at the mall? I need to get a few things for Max’s new daycare tomorrow.”

Twenty minutes later, we were strolling through the upscale shopping center with Max between us, holding both our hands and occasionally jumping to make us swing him.

“Careful, baby,” I cautioned as he nearly collided with a well-dressed woman. “Let’s get your supplies first, then maybe we can look at a new toy if you’re good.”

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8 Chapter 8 Preparing for War

“Dinosaur!” Max exclaimed hopefully.

“You have fifteen dinosaurs already,” I laughed, ruffling his dark hair.

“But not a blue one,” he argued with impeccable three-year-old logic.

After gathering Max’s daycare supplies, we wandered past an expensive toy store where Max spotted a sophisticated building set.

“Mommy, look!” He pressed his face against the glass, his eyes wide with wonder.

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