Under His Billionaire Roof novel Chapter 29

The apartment smelled like paint and someone else's life.

Leighton stood in the middle of the empty living room. One bedroom. Tiny kitchen. A bathroom with water stains on the ceiling. It was all she could afford on her new salary. All she deserved, apparently.

Her boxes sat piled against the wall. Unopened. She'd been here three days and couldn't find the energy to unpack.

Her phone sat on the counter. Dark. Silent. She'd read Noah's texts fifty times. Memorized every word. Then deleted them.

She hadn't responded. Hadn't called. Hadn't reached out.

Because if she started, she wouldn't stop. And stopping was the only way to survive this.

Monday morning, she dressed for her first day. Black pants. White blouse. Nothing special. Nothing that felt like her.

The office was downtown. Glass and steel. Modern. Impressive.

Mark Chen greeted her with a warm handshake. "Leighton! Welcome to Catalyst Creative. Ready for your first day?"

"Absolutely."

He showed her to her desk. Introduced her to the team. Everyone smiled. Said the right things. Seemed genuinely happy she was there.

She smiled back. Said thank you. Pretended she belonged.

Inside, she felt hollow.

The work was good. Interesting, even. Rebranding a local restaurant chain. She had creative freedom. A supportive team. Everything she'd wanted.

But every time she opened her laptop, she thought about Noah looking at her portfolio that first time. The way his expression had shifted. The way he'd asked real questions.

Lunch was in the break room. Her coworkers chatted about weekend plans and office gossip. She nodded along. Laughed at the right moments.

None of it felt real.

After work, she went back to her apartment. Stared at the boxes. Ordered takeout. Ate half of it standing at the counter.

Her phone stayed dark. No texts from Noah. No calls.

Good. That's what she wanted. Space. Distance. A clean break.

So why did it feel like drowning?

Tuesday was harder. Wednesday worse.

By Thursday, she'd unpacked exactly three boxes. Hung one picture on the wall. A print she'd bought years ago. Generic. Safe. Nothing that reminded her of him.

Everything reminded her of him.

Friday evening, her coworker invited her for drinks. "Come on. First week survival celebration. You have to come."

She went. Sat in a bar that was too loud. Drank wine that was too sweet. Smiled at jokes she didn't find funny.

A guy at the bar sent over a drink. Tall. Good-looking. Nice smile.

She sent it back.

"Not interested?" her coworker asked.

"Not really."

"Fair. You seem... I don't know. Distracted? Is everything okay?"

"Just adjusting. New city, new job. It's a lot."

"I get that. But hey, you're doing great. Mark loves your work on the restaurant project."

"Thanks."

The conversation moved on. Leighton checked her phone under the table. No notifications. No missed calls.

She put it away and ordered another drink.

Saturday, she forced herself to explore the city. Found a coffee shop. A bookstore. A park.

None of it felt like home.

Home was a mansion two hours away. With a man who couldn't say he loved her until it was too late.

Sunday, Chloe called.

"Hey! I've been trying to reach you all week. How's the new place?"

"Good. It's good."

"And the job?"

"Great. Everyone's really nice."

"You sound tired."

"Just busy. Getting settled."

"Have you met anyone? Made friends?"

"A few. My coworkers are cool."

"Good. I was worried about you being alone in a new city." Chloe paused. "Noah's been weird, by the way."

Leighton's heart stopped. "Weird how?"

"I don't know. Quiet. Working all the time. More than usual. He barely comes out of his office." Another pause. "Did something happen between you two? Before you left?"

"No. Why would you think that?"

"I don't know. Just a feeling. The way he left that morning. The way he's been acting since."

"We barely talked the whole time I was there. You know that."

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