STUCK WITH MR. BILLIONAIRE FOR CHRISTMAS novel Chapter 7

Chapter 7

CINNAMON:

m M.

“I can’t believe they’re doing this to you during the holidays.”

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Risa paced across my bedroom, stepping over piles of clothes and open suitcases like they’d personally offended her. “This is insane, Ci. You’re supposed to be with your mom and Khole. No working through Christmas for some asshole.”

When Risa worried like this, voice pitched high, hands gesturing wildly, it reminded me exactly why she’d been my best friend since kindergarten. We’d survived everything together: first crushes, bad breakups, career disasters. And somehow, we’d ended up in different departments at the same company, which felt like fate giving us a break for once.

Apart from Mom and my sister Khole, Risa was the only family had. Beautiful, kind, hardworking Risa, who would probably fight Dante Moretti in a parking lot if given half a change.

I paused mid-fold, a sweater dangling from my hands. Three suitcases lay open on my bed, overflowing with clothes, shoes, toiletries.

“Risa, it’s fine. It’s only a few weeks. And I need that bonus.”

“But you’ll be working with the devil himself.”

“I’ll keep my distance. He won’t get on my nerves if I don’t let him. Moreso, he’s not coming with me.”

“I doubt distance would do justice to his ugly personality. He would still find a way to annoy you over the phone.” She looked around, eyebrows rising. “And why are you packed like you’re never coming back?”

I laughed. “Just taking essentials.”

“You don’t need all this. Your mom’s already home with Khole.”

She was right.

Mom had left two days ago back to Meadowbrook after spending a few weeks in Alabama for treatment. She hated the city. Too loud, crowded, and suffocating. Meadowbrook was home to her: countryside charm, intimate community. A place where everyone knew your name and half your business.

I used to love it too.

Then Marcus happened.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

Risa’s voice softened as she helped me zip the last suitcase, rolling it out to the living room. She collapsed onto my couch dramatically, breathing like she’d just run a marathon.

“I am,” I said too quickly.

“You stayed away for two years for a reason, Ci. Being back there is going to remind you of everything.”

“I’m healed now. It won’t matter.”

“And Marcus?”

“He moved. I won’t see him. Besides, he’s engaged to someone else.”

Risa sat up, curiosity sparking in her eyes. “How do you know that?”

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09:52 Sat, Feb 28

Chapter 7

m M.

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“He posted it on Instagram. The same day I got fired, actually.” I pulled out my phone, scrolling to the post I’d memorized against my will. “Something about being ‘finally fortunate to end up with the love of his life.” I did my best Valley girl impression, complete with dramatic hair flip.

Risa narrowed her eyes. “Is that why you accepted this job? Not just the bonus. You want to show him you’re thriving.”

“I’ll do no such thing.”

“Liar.” She grabbed her water bottle, taking a long sip. “You’re going to post gorgeous pictures of yourself at fancy dinners, looking flawless in cute outfits, living your best life. All so Marcus can choke on his own regret.”

I said nothing. Because she was right. Not entirely, but close enough.

When I’d first seen that post, I’d been too devastated to process i But after the meeting with Dante, securing the bonus and realizing this trip meant dinners, events, opportunities to dress up and document everything, the silver lining became obvious.

Marcus would see me thriving. And it would kill him.

“Just take care of my apartment while I’m gone,” I said, changing the subject.

“Only if you promise to call me. Every day. And if anything goes wrong, Dante crosses a line or if the project falls apart, you back out immediately.”

“I promise.”

“Do you even know the itinerary yet? Or are you flying blind?”

That was a good question.

“Martin hasn’t sent it yet.”

Risa groaned. “And you’re just… going? What if the plan doesn’t sit well with you?”

“I’ll work something out.”

“Oh, Ci-”

C

“Risa.” I grabbed my coat, cutting off whatever lecture she was about to deliver. “Come see me off. Help me grab a taxi to the airport.”

“They’re not even sending someone to pick you up?” She answered her own question before I could respond. “You have to be kidding me. I wish I could meet this guy and choke him out. He’s such an asshole.”

I hugged her tight, kissing both her cheeks. “Chill. I’ll be fine. I need this money. For Mom.”

She sighed but didn’t argue.

***

The taxi ride to the airport was quiet. Doubt crept in with every mile. This was the biggest project I’d ever handled. I knew Meadowbrook inside and out. Sure, I’d already built relationships with half the town. But working under Dante Moretti? Managing his expectations while navigating my own complicated history with that place?

What if I couldn’t pull it off?

At least he’d be back in Alabama, barking orders from a distance. I wouldn’t have to see his face every day. Wouldn’t have to deal with his condescension or the way he looked at me like I was simultaneously an inconvenience.

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m M

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I should’ve asked Martin for more details. The itinerary. The investor meeting schedule. Hell, even the project scope.

But no. I was flying blind because Dante Moretti couldn’t be bothered to keep me informed.

I put in my headphones, letting soft music drown out the noise in my head.

This would be over before I knew it. Just charm the investors, secure the deal, collect my bonus, and get out. Simple.

Except… what were they planning to do with all that land?

Develop it? Build affordable housing? A hospital?

Meadowbrook needed infrastructure. Real investment. If I could suggest improvements, things that would actually help the community, maybe this project could mean something beyond corporate profit.

I made a mental note to bring it up with Martin.

The taxi pulled up to a hangar instead of the main terminal.

I frowned, grabbing my bags. “Are you sure this is right?”

The driver checked his phone. “Says hangar seven.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

I rolled my suitcases toward the building, expecting to find other passengers, maybe a check-in counter.

Instead, I saw Martin.

He waved me over, half-jogging in my direction. “You’re late!”

“What? I’m ten minutes early-”

“Not for this.” He grabbed one of my suitcases, leading me past a private jet.

That’s when I noticed the helicopter.

It sat behind the plane, rotors still, painted a glossy black with a logo emblazoned on the side: DM. Dante Moretti.

Of course.

Standing next to the helicopter door was the devil himself. Well, he looked less like a devil and more like a breathtaking angel. Blue dress shirt, top two buttons undone, sleeves rolled to his elbows and dark slacks. Hair slightly tousled by the wind.

Wasn’t it too cold for this?

And what was he doing here?

“Ms. Wealth.” He greeted with a clip nod.

I stopped a few feet away, forcing a smile. “Mr. Moretti.”

“Shall we?” He glanced at his watch. “You’ve kept us waiting.”

Wait.

Us?

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09:52 Sat, Feb 28

m M.

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Chapter 7

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My brain caught on that word, replaying it over and over. It felt poisonous hearing it again. The last time there was an ‘us’ it ended up being a disaster. And I would never let that happen again.

Before I could ask, Martin stepped forward, pulling a small velvet box from his jacket pocket. Navy blue, gold clasp, expensive-looking.

He handed one to me. One to Dante.

“You’ll be needing these.”

I opened mine.

Inside, nestled against white satin, was a ring. Not just any ring. An engagement ring. Diamond solitaire, platinum band that promised forever. No, I never wanted to see or deal with one of these.

I looked up. Dante was staring at his own box, expression unreadable.

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