Page 25 of Selfish Suit

THE INTERN

IVY

Iprobably only need twenty minutes to pack everything I own, but I take my time under Dominic’s gaze, wanting to hold on to some sense of control. Some bit of agency.

As we ride back to his side of town, I try to stir up conversation, but he doesn’t look bothered by the silence. He keeps his gaze straight ahead, one hand steady on the wheel, the other resting casually on the center console. Every few minutes, a call comes through his dashboard, and he answers and ends each one in under a minute.

They’re all about work.

As we pass the Manhattan Bridge, my phone vibrates in my purse.

Nolan (BF… I think?)

Hey babe. Hope you’ve been doing well. I know our six-month break has been hard on you, and it’s been hard on me, too…

I heard you got a promotion?

Going back to work, just wanted to reach out & say I missed you.

Hope your pussy has missed my dick. <3

Oh my god.

I silence my phone and drop it deeper into my bag.

When I look up again, we’re pulling in front of a sleek black building on Billionaire’s Row. I bite my lip to stop myself from gasping.

The underground garage greets us with bright white lights, high ceilings, and polished marble floors that reflect the car’s headlights.

A man in a suit approaches the moment Dominic parks.

“Good evening, Mr. Sutton,” he says, tipping his hat before walking over to open my door.

“Good evening, Mitchell. This is Ivy Locke.” Dominic steps beside me. “Ivy, this is Mitchell. He manages all my affairs in this building.”

“Nice to meet you.” I offer my hand, but Mitchell lifts it to his lips for a swift kiss.

“There are two other cars on the way with her things,” Dominic says. “I’d like everything delivered into her temporary new space—the guest suite—by midnight.”

“No, that’s okay.” I shake my head. “I won’t be living here that long. I can give you a storage address instead.”

“I’ll handle it exactly as you want, sir.” Mitchell doesn’t acknowledge me. After another tip of his hat, he’s gone.

Dominic presses a key fob, and the elevator ahead opens with a soft chime.

“Tracey will show you some apartment options this week,” he says.

“Just so we’re clear,” I say, following him inside, “I won’t be sleeping in your bed or your room during my stay here.”

“Okay, Miss Locke.”

“I’m being serious,” I add. “And it would make me more comfortable with this situation if I had a couch far away from your bedroom.”

“You’ll have an entire guest suite to yourself.” He glances over at me, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “Do you just enjoy arguing and making your life more difficult, or do you really mean the shit you say?”

I don’t answer. I just wait until the elevator reaches his floor.

The doors open directly into the penthouse, and I try not to gasp.

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