Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
This was going to be another day of torture, the billionaire thought with a mental sigh. Ever since meeting Ilse, he hadn’t fucked another woman, and not counting the years before he had lost his virginity, this was the longest time he had gone without sex.
With an effort, the billionaire managed to keep his voice steady, saying, “Ilse, get up.”
“Mm.”
He heard more sounds, Ilse flipping to her stomach and covering her head with a pillow. It was the simplest thought, but it still have the most amazing impact on his cock, and for one tempting second the billionaire seriously considered going back to his room so he could jerk himself off.
The thought had the billionaire inhaling hard.
Control. He needed to be in control.
“Come on, babe. You don’t want to be late, do you?”
Half a minute passed before he heard a sigh coming from the other end of the line. “I’m up.”
Her tone was half-sleepy, half-grudging, to which the billionaire replied in a mockingly polite voice, “Your gratitude for my wake-up call is duly noted.”
Ilse growled.
“Around what time will you get to work, do you think?”
“Quarter to nine usually,” Ilse answered, still mumbling in a sleep-scratchy voice. “Why?”
“I’ll call you then.” And just like that, the billionaire hung up.
Huh?
While taking her shower, Ilse tried to make sense of what just happened, but the billionaire’s attitude continued to puzzle her even after she made it to the kitchen and started preparing Jan’s lunchbox. Although Jan was already twenty-six, he still had to attend special classes every day, the lessons meant to gradually teach him new life skills to prepare him for an independent future, in the event that the worst happened.
It was already eight by the time Ilse walked her brother to school while pulling her bike with her. “Don’t forget what I told you about strangers,” she reminded him.
“Okay,” Jan answered.
“Repeat it so I know you remember,” Ilse requested. She knew she was being too paranoid and bossy, but she couldn’t help it. Jan was everything to her.
“No matter what they say or do, I won’t go with them.” Her brother spoke in a big, booming voice, his condition making him oblivious to how he was drawing attention from the passers-by. “And if they insist, I should start shouting for help.”
Ilse smiled. “That’s right.” She ruffled his head. “See you at home later.”
And that’s what really matters, Ilse thought determinedly as she watched Jan disappear inside his school. Just her and Jan were fine. There was no need for anyone else, and Ilse tried to convince herself of this as she cycled to work.
With a scenic route making up her daily ride, Ilse was able to bike past rows of red and orange buildings with majestic pediments and steeples that soared against a backdrop of pristine skies. From there, Ilse biked along the canals, which treated her with an enchanting sight of wooden houseboats swaying laconically on the waters, followed by an equally picturesque mix of quaint cafes and cosmopolitan fashion boutiques.
Ilse usually took her time admiring the views, but today everything might as well have been buried under a mountain of lashes. Her thoughts were completely consumed by the billionaire, causing Ilse to cycle faster in a futile attempt to run away from them.
By the time she made it to her workplace, Ilse was in a bad mood, and she had the craziest urge to pretend the lamppost in the corner was the billionaire so she could give it a nice, hard kick.
I hate you, Jaak de Konigh.
But deep in her heart, she knew she was lying to herself.
Crouching down to lock her bike into place, Ilse began roughly yanking a chain around it, wishing it were the billionaire she was strangling with the chain.
I hate you, Jaak de Konigh.
Her cellphone suddenly started to ring, the ringtone telling her it was the billionaire calling. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, a glance at the screen told her it was exactly eight forty-five, and Ilse scowled at how surprisingly prompt he was.
Why did fate seem to hate her so that it just had to make Jaak de Konigh in possession of practically every trait she desired in a man?
Answering the call, she said right away, “You may think you are being sweet with your wake-up call, but common sense tells me you have an ulterior motive.”
“That’s not common sense, babe,” the billionaire said gently, “but bias.”
Oh. She glared at her phone. How awful it felt whenever the billionaire managed to have the last word!
“I’m just calling to make sure you got to your workplace in one piece.”
Ilse blinked. “Why wouldn’t I have?”
“No particular reason,” the billionaire answered easily, “but I just prefer to check up on you all the same.”
“You’re being very controlling.”
“I believe the word you mean to use is ‘concerned.’”