STUCK WITH MR. BILLIONAIRE FOR CHRISTMAS novel Chapter 12

Chapter 12

DANTE:

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People did this for me. I paid them well to handle things like this so I could focus on building companies and closing deals and doing things that actually mattered.

But here I was.

I jabbed the shovel into the snow. It barely made a dent. The blade hit something hard beneath the surface and the impact jarred through my arms.

“What on earth are you doing?”

I turned.

Cinnamon stood on the porch, arms crossed, looking at me like was trying to build a spaceship out of snow.

She marched over, boots crunching through the powder, and yanked the shovel out of my hands. “Here. Watch.”

She angled the blade low, pushed it forward through the snow, lifted with her legs, and tossed the load to the side. “Like that. Angle matters. You’re trying to scrape when you should be scooping.”

I huffed, staring at her. This looked just like explaining quantum physics using a children’s shovel.

“Don’t tell me Mr. High and Mighty has never shoveled snow in his entire life.”

I didn’t answer.

Her mouth fell open. Actual shock crossed her face. “Oh my God You haven’t.”

“I’ve been busy. Building a multimillion-dollar company.”

“Unbelievable.” She shook her head, demonstrating again. “Push from your legs, not your back. Otherwise, you’ll throw it out. And actually lift the snow. Don’t just push it around.”

I stepped back, folding my arms. “Well, since you’re already doing it, you might as well finish.”

“Cinnamon!” A voice called from inside. “Get in here and finish telling us about how you

met Mr. Handsome!”

Cinnamon’s grin turned wicked. She thrust the shovel back at me. “Actually, this is a man’s job. I just came out to make sure you weren’t accidentally burying yourself.” She patted my shoulder with mock sympathy. “Don’t worry. I’ll make you hot chocolate when you’re done. Extra marshmallows.”

“Cinnamon-”

She was already walking away, waving over her shoulder without turning around. “Love you, baby!”

The door clicked shut behind her.

I let out a breath that fogged instantly in the air, a silent acknowledgment that I’d lost this round by a landslide.

With no choice and surrounded by snow, I got to work.

And by work, I mean I attacked that driveway like it had personally insulted my family.

My dress shoes soaked through within the first five minutes. Ice cold water seeped into my socks, numbing my toes. My pants clung to my legs, wet and heavy and absolutely miserable.

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09:53 Sat, Feb 28

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Chapter 12

10

96%

55 vouchers

My hands went numb because I’d forgotten to grab gloves from my suitcase. My fingers ached, joints stiff from the cold and the repetitive motion of lifting and tossing snow.

Sweat gathered at the small of my back, the effort heating me from the inside while the wind bit at any exposed skin. My face burned from the cold. My lungs ached from breathing frigi air.

But I finished.

Every last inch of that driveway. Clear. Perfect.

I stomped back inside, teeth chattering hard.

The warmth hit me like a wall. My skin prickled painfully as blood rushed back to frozen extremities.

Gloria looked up from her spot on the couch, pressing one hand to her mouth. “Oh dear. You need to change immediately, or you’ll catch pneumonia.”

Tell me about it.

I forced a smile. “Where can I change?”

She stood, moving slowly, and led me down a narrow hallway lined with family photos. Cinnamon at various a baby. A man I assumed was their father.

ages.

Khole as

Gloria stopped in front of a door. “Make yourself at home. There should be towels in the closet if you need them.”

“Thank you, Gloria.”

She squeezed my arm gently, then shuffled back toward the living room.

I didn’t see Khole anywhere. Where could that tigress have gone

I stepped inside and closed the door.

Then I actually looked around.

This wasn’t a guest room.

The walls were pink. Faded now, more of a dusty rose than the bright bubblegum they’d probably been years ago. A twin bed sat against one wall, covered in a floral comforter that had seen better days. Posters clung to the walls, boy bands I vaguely recognized from the early 2000s, their faces smiling down at me with frozen teenage enthusiasm.

A desk sat beneath the window, cluttered with books and an ancient laptop covered in stickers. Makeup and skincare products lined the dresser, newer additions, clearly from Cinnamon’s adult visits.

This was her childhood bedroom. And she still stayed here when she came home.

I walked to the desk, scanning the picture frames scattered across its surface.

The first showed a young Cinnamon, maybe four or five, grinning with two missing front teeth. Her hair stuck up in wild directions, and dirt smudged her cheek.

The second was her and Khole, both covered head to toe in mud laughing so hard they’d bent double.

Then I saw the third frame.

A man stood between two little girls. He had Khole’s dark curls, Cinnamon’s ears, and a smile that reached his eyes in a way that suggested he smiled often.

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09:53 Sat, Feb 28

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