Page 12 of Ruthless Billionaire Daddy

My fists clenched at my side at the thought of someone placing their hands on her. We stopped at her door, and she pulled out her key and looked at me.

“Mr. Quantum, what I do after hours, and again, where I live, is none of your business,” she huffed.

“You are my business.”

She lifted her eyebrow and I continued, “Not only are you my employee, but my best friend’s sister, and that extends outside of work hours.”

Delilah laughed bitterly, “When was the last time you even spoke to Dean? And when have youeverlooked out for me? Because I don’t have any memories of that happening, so don’t try to start now. I can take care of myself.”

“Delilah.” I placed my hand on her arm but she yanked away.

Without thinking, I pushed her against the wall, my two hands flat against the door behind her. She gazed up at me, her eyes wide.

“You are not my boss right now. All you are is an annoying, controlling co-worker who can’t take a hint when to get lost.” She tried to sound intimidating, but her words came out like a whimper instead.

As I looked down at her, I noticed her breaths came in short gasps and her chest bobbed up and down. Her nipples pressed firmly against the soft material of her blouse.

I wanted to tell her that no matter where we were, Iwasher boss. I wanted to show her exactly how much I could controlher, if I chose, as thoughts of seducing her right here, right now, infiltrated my mind. I’d fuck her brains out in the shadows outside her apartment. and there was nothing she would be able to do about it.

But, reluctantly, I took a step back.

Never had I had the desire to just fuck a woman anywhere. Discretion was important to me. Yet still, here I was having these intense thoughts about Delilah outside her apartment.

“Good night, Ms. Malone,” I bit out.

Delilah unlocked her apartment door and entered without a word. I didn’t hear anything on the other side for a while. After a few moments, I heard Delilah walk away from the door, and I made my way down the stairs. Tony was standing at the bottom of the staircase, waiting. I exited the building, and he followed.

Outside, two security officers were waiting, one by my car and the other by their SUV. I hopped into my car and sped away, the only thing on my mind contacting Dean.

***

It had been two damn hours since I’d reached home and had been trying to reach Dean. Every number I had for him, his cellphone and his car dealership lines, didn't work. Since he’d moved his business to another state, we hadn’t been able to keep in touch like we used to. But the fact that none of his lines worked meant something was wrong. Very wrong.

.

Frustrated, I tossed my phone on the sofa, slumped back and closed my eyes. Now, I didn’t just have Delilah to be worried about, but Dean was now added to the list.

I wondered if Delilah knew where Dean was. But if she did, would she tell me? Her question about when I last spoke to Dean hinted that she knew we hadn’t spoken in the last year or so. And if she didn’t know exactly where he was, was she in contact with him?

Then a thought crossed my mind. Did Dean ghost me? If he did, what reason did he have?

I dialed Vega’s number, gave him Dean’s information and told him I wanted an update in the next few days.

With Dean out of the picture, Delilah was mine to take care of, and that was exactly what I planned to do.

That weekend, I paid the mechanic a hefty sum to look at Delilah’s car, making sure every issue was addressed. By Sunday evening, the car was fixed and Rex, one of the security officers, delivered it to her. I vowed that once Delilah accepted the permanent position I offered, I’d include a company car and a luxury apartment close to the office. I wasn’t sure if she’d take it, but at least she’d have the option.

When I walked into the office on Monday at seven a.m. Delilah was already in her office. I popped in to let her know I expected her in my office at eight sharp to finalize our notes from Friday.

Over the next few weeks, I had two security officers parked outside her apartment building once she was home. And I didn’t only follow Delilah home, I followed her once she left the office.

The only place she went besides work was the supermarket, staying cooped up in her shabby apartment. Did she not have any friends? Maybe she spoke to them over FaceTime or Zoom.

And I still had no idea where the hell Dean was. Vega told me the last time Dean’s phone was in service was six months ago, right after his business folded. But after that, he just seemed to disappear. No credit cards to trail, no debit card purchases. The last image Vega picked up of him was him getting into a cab on Main, and then nothing.

I wasn’t sure if it was my worry about not being able to locate Dean or why Delilah was forced to stay in that crappy apartment, but I couldn’t get her off my mind.

When I wasn’t stalking her at the supermarket learning her favorite foods, I was scrolling through her media page to find out what she was allergic to, and the reason she loved that peach-scented lotion, which, turns out, was her mother’s favorite scent, and places on her bucket list that she’d love to visit.

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