The Billionaire's Intern (Maya Thompson) novel Chapter 65

Chapter 36. The Obsession Grows-3

+25 Points

Chapter 36: The Obsession Grows-3

He imagined the look on her face when she saw it all. The tremble in her fingers. The disbelief. The cautious hope. The quiet panic of realizing there was no turning back.

He could practically feel it through the screen.

She would be stunned, he knew. Maya was sharp, determined-but she’d spent too long surviving on too little. She wasn’t used to abundance. To security. To being chosen.

And now she was all those things.

Chosen. Secured. His.

He stared at his phone, the cool weight of it a strange contrast to the heat pooling low in his chest. He knew he should wait. Let her breathe. Let the whirlwind of the day settle into something softer, something less overwhelming.

But patience wasn’t his strong suit.

Her signature was on those papers now. The emails had landed in her inbox. That one step had quietly pulled her deeper-closer-to his world. A world she didn’t even fully see yet, but was already hers.

He needed to hear her.

Not the formal, guarded Maya. Not the professional Maya, wrapped in titles and rules.

No.

He wanted the real her.

Vulnerable. Untamed. Unfiltered.

Fingers trembling, he dialed.

The first ring stretched out, taut like a wire between them.

Then a second.

And just before the third, a click.

“Hello? Who’s this?” The voice was soft-uncertain, edged with caution.

He didn’t answer. He waited, savouring the tiny hitch in her breath when she realized who it

was.

+25 Points

Chapter 36: The Obsession Grows-3

“Hello?”

Finally, he said her name, slow and low.

“Maya.”

Her breath hitched, sharp and sudden, as if his voice had landed somewhere deep inside her.

“Mr. Bla-”

“We’re not at work, Maya,” He said, his voice dropping smooth and deliberate. “What did I tell you last night?”

Silence stretched between them, thick and charged.

She whispered his name-fragile, raw, surrendering.

It wasn’t just the name-it was the way she said it. The slight catch, the quiet surrender buried beneath her words.

His fingers clenched around the phone.

Not recognition.

Not respect.

Submission.

Want.

“That’s it,” he murmured, a slow smile curling through his voice. “Good girl.”

He let the silence hang like silk between them, tasting the tension that made his pulse quicken.

She tried to steady herself, stumbling through thanks, explaining about James, the forms, the

emails.

Her voice was warm-soft, feminine, laced with uncertainty.

He pictured her there-curled under a blanket, phone pressed close, heart racing as she tried to untangle what was happening.

Then she faltered, voice barely above a breath:

“Um… about what you said last night… about… if you let someone in…”

But he cut her off, firm and final.

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