Page 34 of Adonis: The Cost of a Billionaire's Heart
His unexpected compliment warmed me more than it should’ve. “High praise from Adonis Holland.”
“I give credit where it’s due.” He finished his champagne and set down the flute. “Now, about these sleeping arrangements?—”
“I’m taking the sofa,” I interrupted firmly. “It’s decided.”
He sighed, recognizing my stubborn tone. I was a Taurus. I had it honest. “Fine. But at least let me get you some bedding.”
As he called down for extra pillows and blankets, I wandered over to the window, taking in the spectacular view of Chicago at night. The lights of the city twinkled below us as cars moved like fireflies along the streets. It was beautiful, the world that Adonis inhabited so naturally—a world of luxury and privilege that I’d only been a temporary visitor in.
Tomorrow, it would end. I’d return to my small apartment, and it’d be back to scraping by, to being just Simora Campbell, the single mom, no longer the fascinating fiancée of a billionaire CEO. It was what I wanted—to get back to reality—so why did the thought fill me with unexpected sadness?
“Penny for your thoughts,” Adonis stated, appearing beside me at the window.
“They’re not worth that much,” I deflected with a small smile.
“I disagree.”
I glanced up at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. As we’d spent nearly every waking hour together, both around Mason and alone, I’d noticed subtle changes in how we interacted. The stiffness between us in the beginning had faded faster than anticipated for two strangers, replaced by something that in different circumstances might’ve been considered a friendship.
“I was just thinking about tomorrow,” I admitted. “About going back to normal life.”
“Are you ready for that?”
The question seemed to hold more weight than his few simple words suggested. Am I ready to leave the lap of luxury behind? To stop pretending to be the woman who captured and warmed Adonis Holland’s heart? To no longer feel his hand at the small of my back, guiding me through crowded rooms, or see his billion-dollar smile whenever I said something that genuinely amuses him?
“Yes,” I lied. “Of course. That was always the plan.”
Adonis held my gaze a moment too long, as if he knew I wasn’t being entirely truthful. Then he nodded toward the bedroom. “The extra bedding should be here soon. You should get some rest. Tomorrow’s an important day for both of us.”
“You’re the one with the fifty-million-dollar deal on the line, D,” I reminded him. “I’m just arm candy.”
“You’re far more than that, Sim,” he said quietly. “This deal wouldn’t be happening without you.”
Before I could respond to his unexpected acknowledgment, there was a knock at the door, probably housekeeping with the extra bedding. Adonis went to answer it, and the charged moment passed.
I took the opportunity to grab my overnight bag and retreat to the bathroom to shower and complete my nightly routine. When I emerged in a simple satin pajama set—a far cry from the sexy designer sleepwear Kimberley selected for me at the penthouse—Adonis had arranged a makeshift bed on the sofa with the extra blankets and pillows.
“All yours,” he announced, gesturing to his handiwork.
“Thanks.” I moved toward the sofa, but he didn’t step aside. Instead, he remained standing there, looking down at me with an expression I couldn’t quite decode.
“Sim,” he began, then stopped, seeming unusually uncertain.
“Yeah?”
“I . . .” He shook his head slightly. “Nothing. Sleep well.”
He disappeared into the bedroom, leaving a gush of cold air in his wake as the door closed behind him. I stared after him for a moment, confused by whatever had just transpired between us, then settled onto my sofa bed. It was comfortable enough, though not nearly as luxurious as the bed I’d been sleeping in at Adonis’s penthouse.
Despite my physical exhaustion, sleep didn’t come easily. I tossed and turned, my mind replaying moments from the past week: the warmth in Adonis’s eyes when Mason showed him a rocket ship drawing and he put it on the fridge, the gentle way he guided me through my first swing on the golf course and held me in the hospital waiting room, the brief but intimate touches that had become more physical with each passing day. Still, wenever crossed the line. The closest we’d gotten was hugs and my impromptu kiss to his cheek.
I told myself it was just the champagne making me feel all gushy, or perhaps the knowledge that after the deal was done, I’d probably never see Adonis Holland again outside of a social media post or magazine cover, which was fine. It was what we both wanted. It was always just a business arrangement. The fact that my heart pinched painfully at the thought of leaving him and his world behind was irrelevant.
After an hour of restless turning, I finally drifted into a broken slumber, only to wake sometime later, shivering. The suite’s air conditioning was set to arctic levels, and despite the mountain of blankets I was underneath, my body was as frozen as a popsicle. I tried to ignore it by pulling the covers tighter around me, but my teeth were practically chattering. After another ten minutes of frozen misery, I gave up. I wasn’t Elsa. The cold fucking bothered me.Maybe there’s an extra blanket in a closet somewhere.
My feet padded around the dark suite, searching for additional bedding, but there was none. I didn’t want to turn on any lights, so I used the flashlight on my phone to try to adjust the thermostat, but it was complicated and had a mind of its own. No matter what buttons I pressed to turn up the temperature or turn it off completely, nothing changed.
Finally, driven by desperation and nearly frostbitten limbs, I approached the bedroom door and knocked softly.
