Page 36 of Adonis: The Cost of a Billionaire's Heart
“For?”
“This week. For treating Mason so well. For making this whole crazy ass situation as comfortable as possible for both of us.”
He was quiet for a moment before he found his words. “I think I should be thanking you. This deal means more than you know to Holland Enterprises.”
“Just to the company?” I queried before I could stop myself.
Adonis shifted slightly, turning more fully toward me. “What do you mean?”
I shouldn’t pursue this. We’re almost done with this arrangement, and then we'll go our separate ways. There’s no point in complicating things now.But there was something about the darkness, the late hour, and the strangeness of our situation that made me feel brave enough to dive deeper.
“You’ve never talked about why this deal matters to you personally,” I observed. “Everything is about Holland Enterprises, the shareholders, or your bottom line—whatever that means. But you’re the man behind the company, Adonis. What does this mean to you?”
He was silent for so long that I started to think he’d fallen asleep and might not answer me at all. When he finally did speak, his voice was quieter than I’d ever heard it.
“My father built Holland Enterprises from nothing. When he died, everyone expected me to fail—to be the spoiled heir whoran his legacy straight into the ground.” The bitterness in his tone was subtle but evident. “This expansion will prove so many mothafuckas wrong. It’ll make Holland Enterprises truly mine and not just something I inherited through a will or by blood.”
His confession struck something deep within me—the universal desire to prove himself, to step out of the shadows and stand on his own merits, to prove every single one of his haters wrong and watch them die from jealousy. I understood that better than he might’ve thought.
“You said you went to Howard, right?”
“Yeah, for accounting.”
“Is that what you wanted to major in, or were you like me and allowed your parent to live vicariously through you?”
“Nah, I love math. It’s a universal language, and numbers never lie, unlike people.”
A cold shiver raced down my spine, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the chill in the air or his words.
“Is that why you’ve never married?” I probed, the question slipping out before I had sense enough to be silent. “Because you’ve been focused on proving yourself?”
Another long pause. “Maybe. Or maybe I’ve just never met anyone worth the distraction.”
The word ‘distraction’ should’ve reminded me of where I stood in his world—a temporary arrangement, a placeholder, a means to an end. But something in his tone made it feel like less of a dismissal and more of a confession.
“And now?” I whispered, my heart suddenly beating faster. “Am I a distraction, D?”
In the dim light, I saw his expression change, something like vulnerability flickering across his features before he masked it. He shifted closer, just slightly, the space between us charged with possibility.
“Yes,” he admitted, his voice rough. “More than you should be.”
My next breath got caught in my throat. We were treading into dangerous territory, crossing lines that our contract had carefully established. But I didn’t move away. Instead, I found myself drawn toward him; the magnetic pull that I’d been fighting all week was suddenly impossible to resist.
I exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of the moment wash over me. My body was ready to take things to the point of no return, but my heart said otherwise. I knew the secret hiding behind my eyes. He didn’t. Every time I considered telling him about Mason’s father, I always swallowed the words. Would crossing the intimate boundary make me any less complicit than I already was by not telling him about the connection between us when I initially found out? I wanted to lie to myself—to tell myself that I was thinking too much into it when I should’ve been looking at the moment for what it was. It was just sex. But if that were the case, why was my pulse so off-balance with apprehension? It was the kind that made me wonder if I was doing it out of guilt or out of lust or worse, if I’d forgotten how to fuck, how to feel pleasure, and how to let someone in after so many years of being alone and guarded.
Four years. I’d spent the past four years wiping away tears, slaying monsters under the bed, reading bedtime stories, and building a world where it was just Mason and me. And before I got pregnant with him, I was dealing with the debris of a toxic relationship with his father that left my heart in shambles.
And yet, there I was, staring into the eyes of a man who had turned my world upside down in a matter of seven days. I wondered if I even remembered how to be seen as something other than Mason’s mother or a billionaire’s trophy. Wondering if it was too reckless to want Adonis’s body on mine, and if Iwas being selfish for even wanting to take things a step further, knowing what I knew and that he’d already given me so much.
“Sim,” he murmured, his hand finding mine beneath the covers. “This isn’t part of our agreement.”
“Trust me,” I whispered back, “I know.”
His fingers gently intertwined with mine, warm and strong. It was such a simple touch, yet it felt like a direct contrast—his warmth against my cold—and more intimate than anything we’d ever shared before, including that staged kiss for the camera. This was real, unscripted, and completely unexpected.
We lay like that, tangled fingers and unspoken questions, as the silence thickened and the air between us heated up. He shifted slightly under the covers, just enough that his thigh touched mine. The innocent contact felt accidental, but it wasn’t.
Every nerve ending in my body began to tingle. I exhaled slowly, unsure if I was trembling from nerves, guilt, or passion. The moonlight caught his eyes as he watched me. For a moment, we just . . . stared.
