Page 40 of Money Reigns
But the pit in my stomach already has.
Something isn’t right.
I push myself off the couch, exhaustion dragging at my bones.
Maybe a shower. Maybe just pajamas and lights out.
In my bedroom, I pause.
Something feels…off.
The faintest trace of scent lingers in the air, smoky, expensive, masculine.
But it’sfamiliar.
My pulse spikes.
Warren.
I shake my head. No. That’s insane.
I tug at my blouse and sniff. It’s probably his cologne lingering to my clothes.
I cross to the nightstand to plug in my phone and freeze again. The picture frame, my brothers, arms slung over my shoulders at my graduation, lies face down.
I don’t remember knocking it over.
A chill crawls up my spine.
I right the frame carefully, staring at our frozen smiles, before forcing a breath past the lump in my throat. “You’re losing it, Olivia,” I mutter under my breath.“Losing it.”
I move quickly after that, shed my clothes, shower, slip into cotton pajamas, brush my teeth with shaky hands. The routines help.
Anchor me.
By the time I crawl into bed, I tell myself I’m just overtired. Stressed. That my imagination is playing tricks on me.
Still… the expensive scent clings to the room.
And I leave the lamp on when I finally close my eyes.
***
Warren isn’t here yet. Which is…odd.
I glance at the clock on my monitor.
8 A.M. Sharp.
For a man who rules this building like a kingdom, his absence feels wrong.
His door stays closed. My inbox pings with a single email.
No greeting. No signature. Just a bulleted list of tasks.
I roll my eyes, but dive in. It’s easier to breathe without his stare burning through me.
Easier to focus when I’m not hyper-aware of every flick of his attention.
