Call Me Auntie, Jerk

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You're on my hair. I gripped the bedsheets so hard my knuckles ached, every breath trembling.

The man beside me half-opened his eyes, slowly sliding his arm out from under my neck. Not waiting for him?

The blood in my veins turned to ice.

I had gotten blackout drunk last night to beg my ex-boyfriend to take me back, and instead, I ended up sleeping with his ruthless billionaire uncle!

Chapter 1

His voice was rough with sleep. He must have been even more wasted than I was.

Wait for Chase in this situation? That was a literal death wish.

"No." I scrambled to get off the bed

"Can you get me some water?" The deep rumble came straight from his chest.

I froze, my mind blanking on how to refuse. I squeezed out an awkward "Okay," then sneaked into the kitchen like a thief to pour a glass of water. I brought it back and handed it over.

He looked pale, like he was one second away from needing an ambulance. Just to be safe, I had to ask, "Are you okay?"

He took the glass. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, followed by a low, gravelly chuckle. "You were like a wildcat last night. An old man like me can't handle being tossed around like that."

A jolt of electricity shot straight through my scalp.

I was guilty as sin. I had to run.

But the second I stepped out of the bedroom, I ran straight into my ex.

"Piper, have you no shame?" Chase blocked my path, looking down at me like I was dirt on his shoe.

My stomach plummeted. My first thought: I'm caught.

The air was sucked out of my lungs. I stared fixedly at his mouth, waiting for the final sentence.

He paused for a second, then let out a heavy sigh. "We broke up. Don't just show up at my house without permission anymore."

So that was it.

A pathetic wave of relief washed over me. I opened my mouth to arguehe was the one who dumped me out of nowhere without a single reason, which was exactly why I showed up in the first place.

Then, a girl slowly peeked out from behind his back.

"Hi." She deliberately kept a few steps away from him, but the fresh marks on her neck told me everything I needed to know. This was that junior from his college he used to mention.

All the fight drained out of my body. I didn't say another word. I didn't ask for his pathetic reasons anymore. I just felt like the world's biggest idiot.

I stood by the door, staring at my tangled shoelaces until my vision blurred. I kicked the shoes away, my back hitting the cold, hard wood of the front door as heavy tears smashed against the floorboards.

Chase just stood there, staring down at me without a single word.

My sobs must have been too loud. The second the front door clicked open, his mom rushed in and froze. "What happened?"

She snapped her head toward Chase. "Did you do this to Piper?"

"No," he lied smoothly.

"She's crying her eyes out! Do you think I'm blind?" She shot him a lethal glare before wrapping her arms around me, pulling me up.

"Oh, Piper, don't cry. If this little bastard did something, I'll kill him myself."

I dug my nails into my palms, taking several deep breaths to steady myself before gently pulling out of her grip. "We broke up. I need to go."

I turned for the door, but her hands clamped down on my arm, refusing to let go.

"Is that true?" she demanded, glaring at her son.

Chase kept his mouth shut. A silent confession.

The silence in the hallway turned suffocating.

After what felt like an eternity, his mom grabbed my hand again. "Piper, listen to me. Stay for dinner. We are going to sit down and figure this whole mess out before anyone leaves."

"Mom, if she wants to leave, just let her leave." Chase stumbled over his words.

I knew exactly why he was panicking. He was terrified his mom would embarrass that junior hiding behind him. My stomach dropped like a lead weight. He was so scared of her feeling awkward, but he didn't give a damn about humiliating me?

Right. Because I was the one who chased him first, I was supposed to just roll over and take it?

I had wasted an entire year on him. If I spent that time feeding a stray dog, at least it would wag its tail at me. But he just chewed me up and spat me out the second he got bored.

My teeth ground together so hard my jaw ached. Before I could stop myself, I nodded at his mom's offer.

I was going to stay for dinner. I wanted a front-row seat to watch these two put on their little show.

Chapter 2

His mom wasn't stupid. One glance at the girl, and she pieced it all together. She immediately pulled me into the kitchen to help prep the vegetables.

"When did this start?" she asked me.

"I don't know." I kept my head down, scrubbing the greens.

She let out a heavy sigh. "No wonder he hasn't brought you up lately. He used to talk about you every other sentence"

She swallowed the rest of her words. My shoulders were probably slumped so low she didn't have the heart to finish.

I just kept my gaze fixed on the sink, my mouth clamped shut.

After a long moment, her hand covered mine. "Piper, you're a good girl. That little bastard doesn't deserve you. Let him mess around; he'll regret it one day."

She squeezed my fingers. "I adore you. Even if things don't work out with him, I'll always see you as my own daughter."

"Whenever you want a home-cooked meal, just come over. I'll make whatever you want, okay?"

A bitter, half-broken laugh got stuck in my throat.

I always knew his mom liked me. I spent an entire year bending over backward for Chase, and I bent over backward for his extended family, too. I texted his relatives more often than he did. They all called me sweet, respectful, the perfect catch.

I thought playing the perfect girlfriend would make him love me more.

Instead? While I was busy mailing out holiday cards to his aunts and running family errands, he was busy pinning that college junior to a wall. A suffocating tightness gripped my chest.

I gently pulled my hands back. "Thank you. You've been amazing to me."

I swallowed hard. "But after tonight I won't be coming back."

I was desperate, but I wasn't a literal stray dog.

She sighed deeply and didn't push it.

Sitting at the dining table felt like being strapped to an electric chair. I stared at my plate, regretting every life choice that led me here. I wanted to flip the table and expose those two right in the middle of dinner, but after his mom's kindness in the kitchen, the fight had drained right out of me. My hands stayed firmly in my lap.

"Where's your uncle Roman?" His mom suddenly looked up at Chase.

"He's here?" Chase clearly had no clue.

"Yeah, he flew back into the country yesterday. Said he wasn't feeling well and came straight here to rest since it's close to the airport," she explained. "You made me so mad I almost forgot. Go wake him up for dinner."

My heart slammed against my ribs. The image of that pale, dangerously exhausted face flashed in my mind. The fork trembled in my grip.

A few minutes later, that exact man appeared in the dining room. He walked over and pulled out a chair, water droplets still clinging to his dark hair. The collar of his dark dress shirt was thrown wide open, exposing a hard chest and a glaringly obvious red scratch dragging across his collarbone.

I didn't dare look at him. My pulse hammered relentlessly in my ears.

"What happened to the buttons on your shirt?" his mom asked out of nowhere.

The man across the table didn't answer. I couldn't stop myself from darting a glance upward, only to crash straight into his dark, bottomless eyes. He leaned back in his chair, his oppressive gaze locking dead onto me, looking at me like he wanted to strip me bare right there at the table.

I snapped my eyes back to my plate.

But when I risked another peek, he was still staring. The back of my neck burned. His sister-in-law was talking to him, why the hell was he staring at me?

"Oh, this is your nephew's girl" His mom started, but caught herself just in time, swallowing the rest of the word. "Good friend."

Good friend? A sharp sting hit the back of my throat. I had only ever heard rumors about Chase's uncle Roman. He was a late-in-life baby of Chase's grandfather, spent most of his time abroad, and I had never actually met him in person.

"Someone ripped them off," he drawled lazily.

And as he said it, his dark, dangerous gaze flicked right back to me.

Chapter 3

Wait. He couldn't possibly mean what I think he means.

"Another one of your endless flings," his mom sighed, shaking her head. "You're thirty years old. Your nephew is practically catching up to you, and you still refuse to settle down."

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly tight. I kept my mouth firmly shut.

He didn't even bother denying it. He just let out a low, dismissive chuckle. "Is that so?"

The rest of the dinner dragged on in suffocating silence. His mom occasionally brought up company business with Roman, who barely responded. He sat there, radiating a lazy, untouchable arrogance, only dropping a single word here and there. Meanwhile, Chase spent the entire time meticulously peeling shrimp for the silent girl next to him.

Watching those two act like they were the only ones in the room, a violent cramp seized my stomach. I forcefully shoved my chair back, bolted for the nearest bathroom, and emptied the entire contents of my stomach.

When I finally dragged myself back out, his mom took one look at my pale face and gasped. "Piper, are you alright? I'll have Chase drive you to the clinic."

I shook my head frantically. Looking at him right now would only make me gag again.

"No, it's fine. I think I just caught a stomach bug. I just need to head back to campus and crash."

"Roman, aren't you heading to the office soon? Drop Piper off at her dorm on your way," she ordered the man across the table.

So that was his name. Roman.

"No."

"Fine."

The two of us spoke at the exact same time.

The tension in the room thickened.

"Let's go. I have a meeting," he announced, completely ignoring my refusal as he grabbed his suit jacket.

He strode right up to me, his tall frame blocking the light. "You'd rather stay?" he murmured, his dark gaze flicking deliberately toward Chase.

The message was crystal clear. Of course I wanted to leave. I didn't want to breathe the same air as them for another second.

"Fine." I forced my stiff facial muscles into a polite smile. "Thank you for the ride."

"Hmm." He didn't offer another word, just turned and walked out the door, his jacket slung carelessly over one shoulder.

My stomach twisted into knots as I trailed behind him. Some things couldn't be undone. Chase had made his irreversible choice, and I had made mine. But I had to deal with the fallout.

"Got dumped, huh?" That was the very first thing he said the second the car doors locked.

My heart skipped a violent beat. "You could tell." I let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh.

Obviously. Chase parading his little college junior around the dining table while leaving me out to drya blind man could have seen it.

He stared at me for a few heavy seconds before dropping a bomb.

"You told me yourself last night."

Oh, God. I had blocked that out. I was blackout drunk when I stumbled into his place last night. I vaguely remembered him asking what was wrong, and I must have clung to him, spilling my pathetic little guts out.

But what I couldn't comprehend was how crying about my ex escalated to me shoving a dangerous, powerful man onto his back. I was the one who popped the cork. I was the one who threw myself at him. There was no running away from this crime scene.

"About last night" I trailed off. The issue had to be dealt with, but the words felt like broken glass in my throat.

"Hmm." He casually scrolled through a document on his tablet, acting as if this was just another Tuesday. "What exactly do you plan to do with me?"

Excuse me? How did the ball end up in my court? He was asking me what to do with him?

"Do you need some sort of emotional compensation fee?" I asked hesitantly. It was my first time doing something like this. I had zero experience and my mind was blank.

A low sound broke the silence. He actually laughed. It was a dark, tightly suppressed sound vibrating in the confined space of the car.

He paused his scrolling and slowly lifted his gaze to lock onto mine. "Alright. How much are you offering?"

He's actually asking for money! A cold sweat broke out on my back. I had seriously dug myself into a lethal pit.

"Would fifteen hundred bucks work?" I mentally calculated the balance on my debit card. I had just gotten my scholarship, but after dropping cash on a gift for Chase, that was literally all I had left.

He didn't laugh this time. The temperature in the car plummeted. When the amusement vanished from his face, he became terrifyingly cold. A primal instinct told me to be very, very afraid of this man.

He ignored my offer, dropping his gaze back down to his screen.

Chapter 4

I twisted the fabric of my jeans so tightly my knuckles ached, a layer of cold, clammy sweat coating my palms.

After a long, suffocating silence, he finally spoke. "I'm quite the catch, apparently."

Anyone with a functioning brain could hear the heavy sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"I'm broke," I stated flatly.

Of course I was. To a man who wore suits that cost more than my entire tuition, offering fifteen hundred dollars was basically tossing pennies at a beggar.

"Put it on your tab, then."

"Fine." I dug my nails back into my palms. "Should I get your number? So I can Venmo you later."

He didn't reply right away. Instead, he reached over, grabbed his phone, pulled up his contact QR code, and held the screen out to me.

I scanned it, immediately turned my face toward the passenger window, and firmly shut my mouth.

He didn't speak either, his attention entirely consumed by his tablet again.

A while later, he tossed the device onto the empty seat between us.

The sudden weight of his gaze dragged across my skin. The hairs on my arms prickled.

"Does it hurt?" he asked out of nowhere.

My pulse spiked. I had no idea what he was talking about.

His dark eyes slowly swept over me. "If you aren't in pain, why were you crying this morning?"

Wait what?

Honestly, my entire day had been a high-speed car crash. I had been walking on broken glass since I woke up, running entirely on adrenaline. I hadn't had a single second to actually process that.

I lowered my eyelashes and did a quick internal check.

Pain? Not really. Mostly just an overwhelming cocktail of tension and sheer panic.

Besides, maybe because I was blackout drunk, losing my virginity hadn't hurt anywhere near as bad as the horror stories on the internet claimed. So much so that I couldn't even confidently confirm if we had actually done the deed.

But there was no way I was saying any of that out loud. I kept my mouth tightly shut.

Thankfully, he didn't press the issue.

Desperate to escape the suffocating awkwardness, I unlocked my phone and started aimlessly scrolling. One random thought led to another, and before my brain could stop my thumbs, I typed a search query:

[How to tell if you actually did it when you were blackout drunk.]

The top-voted reply glared back at me from the screen:

[Toothpick energy. Pathetic.]

Excuse me?

"What are you spacing out for?" A low, vibrating voice brushed directly against my ear.

I flinched. The phone slipped from my sweaty grip and tumbled onto the floorboard.

I stared at him. I stared down at the floorboard. My thoughts stalled.

He set his own phone down and started to lean over to grab mine.

The search results were still glaring on the screen in massive font. All the blood drained from my face.

"I got it!" I yelled, lunging forward desperately to snatch the phone first.

My head slammed directly into a solid wall of bone.

A sharp pain exploded in my skull. I squeezed my eyes shut, my face screwing up in agony. When I finally forced my eyes open, I saw a bright red mark blooming right along the sharp line of his jaw.

"I'm so sorry!" I scrambled back against my seat.

"Hiss" He tilted his chin up, his large hand coming up to rub the red mark. He let out a slow, deliberate sigh. "Are you actively trying to assassinate me?"

"It was an accident," I swore earnestly.

He dropped his hand. His dark eyes slid over to me, gleaming with dark amusement. "Is that your catchphrase?"

I blinked at him, totally lost.

"You said the exact same thing last night right after you ripped my shirt open."

Boom.

A wave of scorching heat exploded across my face, burning all the way down my neck.

"Do you want me to pay for that too?" I wanted the plush leather seat to swallow me whole. I couldn't believe drunk-me was such a shameless menace.

"You want to pay for it?"

"Yeah."

He stared at me for a few agonizing seconds before a low chuckle vibrated in his chest. "Add it to your tab."

Something choked in my throat. Fantastic. One wild night, and I was suddenly drowning in debt.

And my creditor was a thirty-year-old man who apparently couldn't perform in bed.

Thinking back to that brutal internet comment, I couldn't help but shoot him a deeply sympathetic glance. Remembering his sickly, pale, half-dead face this morning, I barely suppressed the urge to shake my head in pity.

Chapter 5

"What are you thinking about?" he asked right as I stole one last pitying glance at him.

I snapped my gaze away. Jesus! Wasn't he looking at his tablet? Does he have eyes on the side of his head?

"Just wondering what to eat for dinner," I lied smoothly.

His dark eyes locked onto me for a second before he lifted his wrist, glancing at his heavy mechanical watch. "I can't make the time tonight."

"Huh?" I blinked, totally lost. They say a three-year age gap is a generation, but with him, it felt like we were separated by the entire Pacific Ocean.

"Maybe next time," I offered, since I was literally just pulling words out of thin air.

Instead of brushing it off, he gave me a dead-serious nod. "Alright."

What?

Later, I made him pull over a block away from my campus. He shot me a dark look but didn't argue.

I hopped out and started power-walking toward my dorm. But when I accidentally glanced over my shoulder, his sleek black car was still crawling down the street behind me.

Why the hell is he following me?

My heart slammed against my ribs. Was he planning something sketchy? I was half a second away from breaking into a full sprint when his car suddenly pulled a sharp U-turn at the intersection and sped off in the opposite direction.

Guess I was overthinking it. I exhaled a shaky breath and picked up my pace.

The second I locked my dorm room door behind me, I grabbed a cardboard box. I shoved every single thing Chase had ever given me into it, filling it to the brim.

Then, I pulled out my phone. I deleted his number. I blocked his accounts.

Lying in bed that night, I gritted my teeth. Because of my bank's daily transfer limit, I could only Venmo Roman five hundred bucks. I attached a quick note:

[Can you please keep that thing a secret?]

The payment stayed pending. He left me on read.

Not enough?

A few days later, I went to the bank, raised my limit, and transferred him the full fifteen hundred.

It stayed pending. Absolute radio silence.

Still not enough? I buried my face in my pillow. I literally didn't have a single penny left to my name.

Since he was playing ghost, I shoved the whole mess to the back of my mind.

A week later, the second I stepped into the lecture hall, I felt the heavy weight of a dozen stares. People were whispering and pointing fingers at me.

I followed their gazes. It was Chase. He had brought that college junior to our class.

Scumbag.

It had been a week. I thought I had cut him out of my system. But seeing them sitting shoulder-to-shoulder right in front of me still made a sharp spike of pain shoot through my ribs.

I froze in the doorway for three agonizing seconds before I spun on my heel and bailed.

I clutched my books tightly to my chest as I walked down the hallway, my throat feeling like I had swallowed a handful of crushed glass.

I had chased him for a year, and we had been together for another year. The whole campus knew about us. Now, I felt like he had taken whatever scrap of dignity I had left and ground it into the dirt.

"Skipping class?" A hand clamped down hard on my arm.

I didn't even need to turn around to know exactly who it was.

"None of your damn business!" I yanked my arm out of his grip.

"Piper, who taught you to act like this? Skipping class now?" Chase stepped directly into my path, his condescending, critical gaze sweeping me from head to toe.

"Are you actually insane, Chase?" I fired back. "You left your shiny new girlfriend in there just to come lecture your ex?"

He froze, genuine shock washing over his face.

Makes sense. From day one, the power dynamic was rigged. I was the one always chasing him, begging for his attention, letting him get away with murder. He had never actually seen me bite back.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips. It wasn't that I didn't have a backbone. I was just so terrified of losing him that I broke my own spine to keep him around.

Chapter 6

"Piper, you" His jaw clenched tight, words failing him. Finally, he shoved a small paper bag directly at my chest.

"Do you honestly think I have nothing better to do? If my uncle Roman hadn't told me to bring this to you, I wouldn't have bothered coming here just to get yelled at."

Uncle Roman?

I stared at the bag in his hand. My stomach twisted into a tight knot.

"He said you dropped your student ID." Chase practically jammed the bag into my hands before his brows pulled together. "Why did he have your ID anyway?"

My mouth went dry. All the fight drained right out of my body.

I knew my ID was missing, but I never expected it to be with him. How else would I have dropped it? Obviously, I left it in his bedroom. I was screwed.

"Did you drop it in his car the other day?" Chase demanded, shooting me an impatient glare.

"Yeah." I silently thanked him for handing me an alibi on a silver platter. My tense shoulders dropped.

"Why are you always such a burden?" Chase started up again, taking a step closer.

"Do you have any idea how busy my uncle is? He's been out of the country for a week and still had to worry about your stupid card. Can you ever just act like an adult?"

The sound of his voice grated on my nerves. I used to be terrified of losing him, but now that he was gone? I didn't give a damn anymore.

"Can you shut up?" I shot back, lifting my chin to meet his gaze head-on. "You don't get to lecture me anymore, Chase. Who the hell are you to me?"

He flinched like I had just slapped him.

"I was blind for a whole year. Go make your new little girlfriend miserable." I gripped the bag, spun on my heel, and walked away.

Seeing his face turn three different shades of pale before I turned around felt incredibly satisfying. Bet you didn't see that coming, did you?

Back in my dorm room, I tossed the bag onto my desk and collapsed into my chair, my blood still running hot.

When my roommate walked in, she immediately zeroed in on the desk. She peeked inside the bag and gasped. "Piper, do you have a new boyfriend?"

"What?" I barely glanced at her.

"Didn't your new guy give you this?"

"What are you talking about?"

"This new Herms cardholder."

"Herms?"

The word acted like a magnet. My other roommates crowded around her, whipping out their phones to look it up online.

"Three thousand dollars."

"Holy crap."

"Piper, are you dating a billionaire?"

I froze. I stared at the signature orange leather in her hand. Where did that come from? Wasn't it just my ID?

I snatched it from her grasp and popped it open. My cheap plastic student ID was tucked neatly inside the ridiculously expensive leather slots.

My mind struggled to make sense of it. I had to ask Roman.

Ignoring my roommates' relentless questions, I shoved the cardholder into my pocket, grabbed my phone, and stepped out onto the balcony, sliding the glass door shut behind me.

I dialed his number. No answer. I called two more times. Still nothing but ringing.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, exhaling a harsh breath. Did he think I was annoying? I mentally retraced my steps. I hadn't done anything to offend him.

He was the one who asked for the money, then he completely ignored the transfer. Now he pulls this stunt and ignores my calls? Was he terrified I was going to turn into some stage-five clinger?

Whatever. I hit the power button on my phone, tossing it onto my bed, totally done with the whole situation.

Late that night, I was half-asleep when my phone suddenly buzzed against the mattress.

My brain was foggy. I blindly swiped the screen to answer without checking the caller ID. "Hello?"

"Hmm."

The low, vibrating hum sent a jolt straight through my system. I pulled the phone away from my ear and squinted at the glaring screen. Roman. I sat up, clutching the sheets.

"Lost your voice? You called me enough times today." A dark, teasing amusement laced his rough tone.

My grip tightened on the phone. "What is the deal with that cardholder?"

Chapter 7

"A bag?" He paused, the silence stretching as if he was turning the word over in his head. "You want me to buy you one?"

What the hell?

"No I mean the orange Herms cardholder. It's in my" His unhinged question derailed my train of thought.

"Herms orange hmm." His voice was thick, dragging over the syllables. "Just text me exactly what you want."

He let out a long, heavy exhale, the sound vibrating against the speaker like he was bone-tired.

"I'm not asking you to buy me anything." It suddenly clickedhe was completely wasted. "You sent my student ID back but it was stuffed inside a wallet"

"Yeah, I'm a little drunk." A low chuckle rumbled through the receiver, cutting me off before I could launch into my frantic explanation.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. What was the point of reasoning with a drunk guy? It was a literal waste of breath.

"Are you out of it right now?" I asked.

"Hmm."

"Do you even know who you're talking to?"

He didn't answer right away. Another dark, raspy laugh vibrated through the line. "I know So, when are you going to pay for that shirt?"

How the hell was he this drunk but still remembering my debt? God, I hated billionaires.

I took a deep breath. "I I don't have the money. Do you seriously not have any other clothes to wear?"

He paused. A muffled, dangerously rough laugh followed. "I'm actually not wearing anything right now."

Wait, what? Doesn't he run a massive corporation? Is he secretly broke?

A dull ache pulsed behind my temples.

"Then bring it over, and I'll sew it for you, okay?" I muttered into the phone.

In my mind, it was just a missing button. How hard could it be?

"Alright." His answer was shockingly crisp.

Realizing zero productive conversation was going to happen while he was like this, I pulled the phone slightly away from my ear. "You should drink some water. Sleep it off."

"Hmm." His response was uncharacteristically obedient. "It's not very convenient right now. I'll drink some later."

"Oh" I honestly didn't care if it was convenient or not. I just desperately wanted to end this suffocating call.

The faint sound of water sloshing came through the receiver. "I'm in the bathtub," his voice was terrifyingly deep, "naked, and I don't want to get up."

A hot flush seared my neck, blood rushing in my ears as his earlier comment about not wearing anything snapped into context. Even though I couldn't see him, just holding the phone felt obscenely intimate.

"Right. Goodnight." I scrambled to hit the end call button.

But he didn't say goodnight back, and he didn't hang up. A stupid, ingrained polite streak kept my thumb hovering over the screen. Hanging up on him just felt like crossing a dangerous line.

While I was mentally fighting myself, his voice drifted through the speaker again.

"It's past eleven over there, isn't it?" he asked.

"Yeah." Please, for the love of God, just hang up.

"Are you in bed?" The absolute gravel in his tone made the words scrape directly against my ear. It felt like his lips were brushing against my jaw.

My entire body went rigid. I gripped the sheets, heat flooding my face. "Obviously I'm in bed! How else am I supposed to sleep, standing up?"

The line went quiet for a second before the low rumble of his chest vibrated through the phone again. And this time, his dark laughter only seemed to grow more arrogant.

I froze, my knuckles white as I gripped the phone, totally bewildered by what was so damn funny.

"Go to sleep, little girl."

"Mhm." Without giving my brain time to process, I finally slammed my thumb on the red button.

I tossed the phone to the foot of my bed. Replaying the conversation in my head, something felt incredibly dangerous, but I couldn't exactly put my finger on what.

The next time I had to deal with Roman was an entire month later.

I had scrubbed the whole "sewing a button" thing from my memory, right up until he texted me out of nowhere to announce he was parked directly outside my campus gates.

What else was I supposed to do? I blindly grabbed the orange cardholder, raided my roommate's sewing kit, and bolted out the door.

To be honest, I had zero idea how to actually sew. Which meant sitting in the passenger seat of his ridiculously expensive car, trying to attach a button to his shirt, was an utter disaster.

Chapter 8

It took me five agonizing minutes just to thread the damn needle. My hands were shaking like an eighty-year-old's, and the actual stitches I managed to make looked like a mangled caterpillar.

I genuinely marveled at his patience. Exactly how desperate was this billionaire for a shirt that hed sit in total silence in his luxury car, just watching me butcher a button for a solid fifteen minutes?

Staring down at the glaringly thick black thread jaggedly securing the button to his crisp white dress shirt, I wanted to slam my head against the dashboard.

"You should probably just take this to a dry cleaner." I held the ruined shirt up, letting out a defeated exhale.

He stared at the mangled fabric. A low, barely suppressed chuckle vibrated in his chest. He was laughing at me.

"I'll pay for the dry cleaning," I muttered, snatching the shirt back. I reached for the door handle, but his dark gaze suddenly flicked toward the windshield.

I followed his line of sight out the window.

Chase.

Pure panic spiked in my chest. He was walking straight toward us.

The distance closed rapidly, and trapped in the passenger seat, I had nowhere to hide. A cold sweat broke out across my back.

Meanwhile, Roman just leaned back against the leather, radiating absolute, unshakable calm.

I must have lost my mind. Panic hijacked my common sense. I threw myself sideways, burying my face directly into his thighs, curling my entire body into a tight ball below the window line. If humanly possible, I wanted to disintegrate into thin air.

"Uncle Roman? What are you doing here?"

I would recognize that voice even if it were dragged through gravel.

I was dead.

A cold sweat chilled my spine, stealing the air from my lungs.

"Taking care of some business," Roman replied, his tone frighteningly smooth.

"Oh? And who's this" Chase trailed off. He had to be looking at the lump curled under Roman's jacket.

I wanted to reach up and beat him unconscious with a tire iron. Why was he so damn nosy?

Right as terror paralyzed me, terrified Roman was going to sell me out, a heavy, warm hand landed squarely on the top of my head. His long fingers slowly, deliberately stroked my hair.

"A friend."

A shaky breath leaked past my lips.

"Uncle Roman, I didn't know you cruised around my campus for fun." Chase chuckled, clearly joking. "If you end up making me call some college girl my aunt, I'm absolutely not doing it."

The broad chest against my cheek rumbled with a dark, lazy laugh. "If the time comes, you'll address her properly. We wouldn't want to forget our manners now, would we?"

"Whatever. You just got back into the country and instead of going home, you're parked outside my gates. You owe me an expensive dinner if you want me to keep my mouth shut about this."

"Deal. But today isn't convenient."

For the next few excruciating minutes, the two of them carried on a casual conversation, treating the girl curled up in the passenger seat like a piece of furniture. I tuned out their words. Every muscle in my body locked tight, goosebumps breaking out across my arms under the suffocating tension.

I had no idea how much time actually passed before a rough palm tapped my shoulder. "Hiss Are you planning to stay down there forever?"

At the sound of his voice, I finally scrambled off his lap, retreating back into my own seat.

His brows were pulled together in a tight line, his dark eyes shadowed with a heavy, unreadable intensity that made my stomach flip.

"I'm going to head back." Utterly humiliated, I grabbed the door handle, desperate to escape.

Click.

The central locking system snapped shut.

I froze, whipping my head around to stare at him in pure panic.

"Look at your face," he murmured, lifting a long finger to point lazily at my cheek. "Walking out like that, people are going to assume we were doing something indecent in here."

A scorching heat rushed up my neck, setting my cheeks on fire. I was burning up so badly I could have fried an egg on my forehead.

What was I supposed to do?

"Fine, I'll stay for a minute." I frantically fanned both hands at my face, desperately trying to cool the humiliating flush. It didn't do a damn thing. Noticing the passenger window was still rolled halfway down, a spike of guilty panic shot through me, and I quickly hit the button, rolling the tinted glass all the way up to seal us in.

"What are you so terrified of?" He leaned his head against the headrest, an amused smirk playing on his lips.

"It looks bad if someone sees us," I muttered defensively. Honestly, I couldn't wrap my head around it. Was this older guy just that immune to scandals? He didn't look bothered in the slightest.

"Why?" he challenged smoothly.

Seeing him ask with such a straight face left me completely exasperated. "Because this setup screams illegal affair."

A low, suppressed laugh broke from his chest. His dark gaze slowly, deliberately dragged down my entire body before snapping back up to my face. "You're a bit too young for me to be caught doing that, don't you think?"

Chapter 9

"You" I gritted my teeth. Why did every single word out of his mouth sound like a filthy double entendre? Was my brain just broken?

"I'm leaving." I reached for the chrome door handle again.

This time, his large hand clamped down directly over my arm, stopping me dead.

"You sent me money, you sewed my button, and you refused the cardholder. I have to at least buy you a meal," he stated smoothly.

I turned my head stiffly, staring at the flexed muscles in his forearm and the large hand shackling my bicep. His dark, heavy gaze locked onto mine for a few intense seconds before his rough fingers slowly uncoiled, releasing me.

"No thanks." I had zero appetite for whatever dinner he was plotting.

"Not terrified of running into Chase anymore?" He didn't reach for me again, just pinned me with a dangerously knowing look. "That little punk is probably lurking behind a bush right now, waiting to see exactly which girl steps out of my passenger seat."

The blood drained from my face. I hadn't even thought of that. Even though I was curled up hiding my face, what if he had recognized my clothes? Lurking in the shadows to catch someone in the act was exactly the kind of unhinged, controlling behavior Chase was known for.

I bit the inside of my cheek, weighing my options. "Then can we go somewhere far away from campus to eat?"

The mere thought of Chase catching me in a car with his uncle made my stomach churn. I wasn't about to endure another one of his condescending lectures over a non-existent affair. It was easier to just avoid the fallout.

"Somewhere far away, huh" The engine roared to life, the tires gripping the asphalt as we peeled away from the curb. His deep voice cut through the hum of the engine. "Planning to kidnap your uncle, Piper?"

"What? No!" My mind scrambled.

"Bold little thing." He shot me a sidelong glance, an arrogant smirk playing on his lips, before dropping the conversation completely.

A fresh wave of heat scorched my cheeks. "You" I snapped my jaw shut and whipped my head toward the window. Going toe-to-toe with him in a verbal sparring match was practically a death sentence.

Whatever. I took a deep breath, forcing my racing pulse to settle.

I didn't need to argue with a man who couldn't even perform in bed. He might be a terrifying, untouchable billionaire, but beneath all that custom-tailored Italian wool, he was firing blanks.

The mental image was enough to make my tight shoulders finally drop.

It quickly became obvious that Roman and I had vastly different definitions of "far away." He drove for two solid hours before pulling through the wrought-iron gates of a ridiculously exclusive private country club.

He sat on the sprawling terrace, casually sipping vintage espresso, while I loitered around the manicured koi pond, desperately calculating how much an Uber back to civilization was going to destroy my bank account.

It wasn't even dinner time yet, but he was basically holding court. Every five minutes, someone would step out of a Maserati or Bentley and make a beeline straight for his table to pay their respects. He barely cracked a smile for any of them. He sat there radiating cold, untouchable authority, his sharp jawline locked in a serious, business-like mask.

The contrast was giving me whiplash. How could a man who looked this flawlessly cold and composed spout such filthy, heart-stopping lines in private?

I crouched by the water, nervously tracing the edge of the stone pond, stealing glances at him through the decorative reeds. The second I saw his dark head start to tilt in my direction, I practically snapped my neck looking away, staring intensely at a random koi fish like it held the secrets of the universe.

Glancing around the private club, I noticed the crowd. Older guys in polo shirts were smoking cigars on the golf course, playing high-stakes poker, or just lounging in the shade like they were fifty years into a trust-fund retirement. I rolled my eyes. He really was just a thirty-year-old trapped in a senior citizen's lifestyle.

Watching him shake hands with yet another CEO, my stomach let out a violent, embarrassing growl. I was practically starving to death.

[Uncle Roman,]

I typed out a quick text. I stared at his silhouette across the lawn. He didn't even flinch. His phone remained firmly in his pocket.

Defeated, I rested my chin on my knees and went back to aggressively counting the pebbles at the bottom of the pond.

Right as I was debating whether eating the expensive fish feed was socially acceptable, a massive, imposing shadow fell over the water, swallowing my reflection.

Roman.

"What is it?" The deep, gravelly voice vibrated directly above my head.

I scrambled to my feet. Standing this close, the sheer size difference was suffocating. The top of my head barely reached the center of his broad, solid chest. I had to crane my neck back just to meet his dark eyes, the angle sending a sharp ache through my spine.

"I'm starving," I admitted, clutching my stomach.

A dark smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. He took a deliberate step back, giving me space to breathe, before turning and leading me toward the exclusive private dining suites.

But ten minutes later, staring down at a massive mahogany table covered in ridiculously elaborate, Michelin-star-level dishes, my appetite suddenly vanished.

Chapter 10

Take the pink, bunny-shaped pastries, for example. Just looking at them felt like a crime. I finally worked up the courage to pick one up. The second I popped it into my mouth, a polite knock echoed from the door.

A middle-aged man walked in, a practiced, corporate smile plastered across his face. He froze when his eyes landed on me before turning his attention forward. "Mr. Roman, it's a pleasure. Why didn't you let me know you were coming? I would have made proper arrangements. Please forgive the lack of hospitality"

Roman set his silverware down. His face gave away absolutely nothing. "It was a last-minute decision, Vincent. Don't trouble yourself."

"Whatever you want to eat, just say the word. I'll have the staff wait right outside your door."

"Fine."

My muscles locked tight. I kept my head down, barely daring to breathe as I listened to them.

"And this is your niece?"

Suddenly becoming the center of attention, I froze in place. Every ounce of air drained from my lungs.

Roman didn't say a word. He just let out a low chuckle, deliberately dragging his dark gaze over to me.

Vincent looked slightly confused but quickly pivoted. "The young lady carries herself beautifully. Where do you go to school?"

"Columbia," Roman drawled lazily.

"Columbia! I actually know the board members over there. Do you want me to put in a good word?" Vincent's aggressive enthusiasm was suffocating.

"I'd appreciate that." Roman looked entirely unbothered. He tilted his head, shooting me a dark, amused look. "Do you want that?"

Cough cough

Hearing him ask Do you want that? with that specific tone, the pastry got lodged straight in my windpipe. I gasped for air, violently choking.

"I'll let you enjoy your meal. I won't disturb you any further." Realizing he was overstaying his welcome, Vincent finally backed out of the room.

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes as I hacked into my napkin. A heavy, warm hand landed squarely on my back, patting me slowly.

"How do you manage to choke on dessert?" he murmured, shaking his head. "Is it really that tight in there?"

He lifted a long finger and tapped directly against his own Adam's apple.

The first half of his sentence was normal enough. But the second half hit my brain, and the filthy double meaning slammed into me like a freight train. My coughing fit doubled in intensity. God, kill me now.

By the time I finally managed to draw a steady breath, I felt hollowed out.

"What? Did being called my niece upset you that much?" He slid the plate of pastries away, his expression completely blank as he watched me.

"No," I answered honestly.

"Do I really look that old?" His movements stopped, pinning me with an irritated glare.

"No it's just, technically, I really should be calling you Uncle." Chase called him Uncle. I used to date Chase. By default, I practically was his niece. What was the problem?

"Right. Uncle" A dark, self-deprecating smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"You don't actually look old, though," I added quickly, unable to read the heavy shift in his mood. Nobody liked being told they looked like a senior citizen, after all.

He didn't respond. He just picked up his phone and dialed a number.

"Yeah. Don't let anyone else in." His voice was dangerously soft, yet coated in absolute, immovable authority. "Let me eat in peace. No one."

I watched him. Thinking back to the endless parade of executives he had to entertain all afternoon, keeping up that perfectly calculated mask, just watching it drained my energy. I guess being a billionaire didn't actually mean you got to do whatever you wanted. Suddenly, my own broke college student life didn't seem so terrible. I might not have a dime to my name, but at least I had my freedom.

He stayed completely silent after that. The temperature in the room seemed to plummet. He didn't look openly angry, but a heavy, suffocating pressure radiated from his broad shoulders, hijacking the atmosphere.

Desperate to break the unbearable tension, I picked up the serving tongs and carefully placed a piece of lobster onto his plate.

Chapter 11

The second I dropped the food onto his plate, instant regret hit me. He raised an eyebrow, his dark gaze locking onto me. "What is this supposed to mean?"

What else could it mean? I just wanted to smooth over the tension. Even though I belatedly realized that serving him a fresh oyster carried a heavy, inappropriate implication, it was already on his plate. It wasn't like I could snatch it back.

"Seeing you're tired every day, I thought you could use the stamina." As soon as the words left my mouth, a scalding wave of heat rushed up my cheeks and burned all the way to the tips of my ears.

He shot me an amused look, a self-deprecating smirk touching his lips. "Right. God knows I need the stamina."

"How are things with Chase?" he asked casually, leaning back against his chair.

"We broke up." Just hearing his name made a dull ache throb behind my ribs.

"Oh?" He tilted his head, watching me with sudden, sharp interest.

"That junior actually met him through me. And now they're together. How stupid am I?" Remembering them sitting shoulder-to-shoulder in the lecture hall made my chest tight with suffocating frustration.

He fell silent for a moment before nodding slowly. "Pretty damn stupid."

"Hey" I glared at him. I could call myself an idiot, but hearing it from him felt like swallowing a mouthful of sand.

"Whatever. We probably shouldn't contact each other anymore anyway. I have nothing to do with him now, and if he finds out I'm texting his uncle, he's just going to corner me and give me another one of his condescending lectures."

"So you only contact me because of him?" His eyes darkened, a heavy, unreadable weight settling in his gaze.

"Not entirely," I quickly defended myself, sensing the sudden drop in temperature around him. Desperate to shift the focus, I threw the ball back into his court. "What about you, Uncle Roman? Why did you reach out to me?"

That actually caught him off guard. A rare flicker of surprise crossed his face.

Tossing the impossible question back into his lapI internally patted myself on the back for that stroke of genius.

Right as I was practically glowing with my own cleverness, he shot me a flat look. "Because you owe me money. Did you forget?"

My jaw snapped shut. I had zero comeback for that.

His logic was bulletproof. Defeated, I dropped my gaze and stabbed at my food. God, I hate billionaires, I cursed internally for the ten thousandth time