The Billionaire's Intern (Maya Thompson) novel Chapter 38

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Chapter 24 Silent Perimeter ?

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Chapter 24: Silent Perimeter-2

Damien’s voice dropped, cold and clipped. “And if he touches her before then?”

Ashcroft’s expression darkened. “Then we carve through that door before he finishes his breath. And I hand you the bastard-limbs optional.”

A gust of wind stirred through the trees.

Damien’s eyes burned. “No. I want him whole. I want him screaming.”

Ashcroft grinned. “Now we’re speaking the same language.”

As the sun began its slow descent, stretching long shadows across the earth, the air shifted.

A storm was coming.

And when the light finally died behind the trees… Hell was coming with it.

Inside the Lake House

The lock clicked into place.

Maya didn’t breathe-not yet. She listened. Waited. Counted the seconds in her head.

Ten. Fifteen.

No footsteps. No creaking floorboards. No return.

Just silence.

Her limbs still felt like lead, but she forced herself up, wrapping the scratchy blanket around her like a shield. Her knees nearly buckled beneath her, but she stayed standing. Her fingers dug into the fireplace poker beside the hearth-cold, heavy, awkward-but a weapon was a weapon.

She edged closer to the curtained window and carefully peeled back a corner.

Trees. Stillness. Shadows dancing in the fading afternoon light.

But something… shifted.

A flicker in the woods? She couldn’t be sure.

Her heart pounded, but not just from fear. Somewhere deep inside, buried beneath the haze and the panic, hope sparked.

Someone was coming. They had to be.

Jamie needed her to come home.

Chapter 24 Silent Peameter 2

She swallowed hard, her throat dry.

Hold on, she told herself. Just hold on.

But Beckett’s words circled like vultures in her mind.

“You’re Blackwood’s newest bitch.”

The accusation hadn’t just scared her – it had shaken her.

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She sank to the floor behind the couch, still gripping the poker. Her body trembled – not just from

adrenaline, but rage.

Where did he get that idea?

–

How could he look at her struggling to make ends meet, barely hanging on for her brother,

working two jobs just to survive-and think she slept her way into anything

She didn’t even know Damien Blackwood.

Three meetings. Barely any words exchanged. He was her boss. Intimidating, yes. Magnetic in a way that made her chest tighten-but utterly out of reach. And entirely uninterested. Wasn’t he?

She shook her head. Now wasn’t the time to think about that.

This wasn’t about Damien.

This was about survival.

This was about Jamie – his thin shoulders, his worried eyes, the way he always checked the clock when she was late. If she didn’t make it back… if Beckett did whatever it was he was planning to do

– No.

She pressed her fist to her mouth to muffle a sob, holding the tears in.

She couldn’t break down now.

“I’m going to make it home,” she whispered into the stillness. “No matter what.”

She thought of Jamie’s favorite cereal waiting in the cupboard. The sketchbook he left open on the kitchen table. The way he said her name when he was scared but trying not to show it.

I have to live. I have to fight. I have to get back to him.

A floorboard creaked above her. Her spine stiffened.

He was upstairs again.

Maybe preparing for whatever came next.”

The bed was already prepared-clean sheets, dim lighting, a vase of fresh wildflowers on the side table. He’d picked them on his last trip up here, before he’d even known for certain he would bring her. But part of him always had.

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Chapter 24 Silent Perimeter 2

She was made for this. For him.

It didn’t matter what she said. Or how she looked at him with those wide, terrified eyes.

Fear was temporary.

Once she let go of the world that had used her up-once she stopped clinging to lies about Blackwood, about innocence, about being “untouched”-she’d see it clearly.

That they were meant to be.

She would thank him for saving her.

For freeing her from a man like Blackwood.

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Beckett opened the closet, revealing a row of carefully arranged clothes-some his, some not. His fingers brushed over the soft cotton of a folded sweater.

One of Maya’s. He’d taken it months ago, from the hospital.

He pressed it to his face and inhaled deeply.

His pulse quickened.

Soon, everything would be perfect. The two of them, hidden from the world. Far from the corruption of Blackwood Enterprises. From the cold city that had failed her.

Here, she would be his.

Only his.

He laid the sweater gently across the bed, then moved to the dresser. Inside, a set of unmarked syringes and sedatives gleamed under the soft overhead light-lined up with obsessive precision.

Beckett stared at them for a long moment, fingers trailing just above the glass vials.

Insurance.

In case she got too loud… too difficult.

His gaze flicked to the clock. Dusk was falling fast. Time was almost up.

He closed the drawer with deliberate care, then turned to look at the bed-at the flowers, the folded sweater, the silent promise of what came next.

A soft hum left his throat.

“Tonight,” he whispered to no one, voice reverent. “She becomes mine.”