BILLIONAIRE'S second chance ✔

Ch 9

Word count: 2320

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Monica was beat when she got home. Surprisingly, things had gone just well at the office and Sucre had been civil with her these past two weeks since he officially resumed his job as CEO. He still called her Mrs. Ambrosia of course but he didn't trouble her, he made his usual act of stealing glances more subtle.

Her mind still occasionally drifted to their discussion. Maybe the family Sucre spoke about when he said he wanted to be there for his family was really changing him and making him more responsible. Still, she couldn't help but wonder who his family members were. The only family she knew was his grandma and grandpa. And since the latter was late, who could Sucre have been referring to then? Was it that woman who'd been sending mails to him?

Monica thought back to Sucre's politeness as she dug here fingers into her hair and loosened the hair clip on it.

The previous Sucre would have grabbed her and bended her over the table if she dared talk back and they would still argue while he was pounding into her. But the Sucre at the office these past two weeks had been polite, understanding.
Still, she couldn't help but constantly ask herself that who was that woman who'd sent the mail to him? When did he get with her and how old was the child she'd been referring to in the mail?

She had showered and changed, before deciding to prepare something light for dinner. There was no time to rest, even though her new, egoistic boss had dismissed her from work two hours before the usual closing time.

Her doorbell rang and Monica turned off the burner before heading to her door and opening it in a rush. She was expecting her girl friend, Veronica. Veronica was a lady Monica met at the park two and half years ago and they just hit it off from there. Their children, Stephanie and Dixon were also very good friends.

Monica's heart leapt into her throat when she opened the door.

Sucre was standing there, one hand resting on the wall and his hair was tousled over like he'd troubled it. He was in dark blue jeans and white shirt. She felt her tongue go dry as she took him in, unable to help herself. Her eyes widened at the obvious intrusion of privacy.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice wasn't as confident as she would have appreciated.

Sucre gave her a heart stopping smile that made her blink twice. Why did he have to look so good looking? His hand was casually tucked into his jean pocket and his black hair was glistening. Sucre trailed his eyes over Monica with a smirk, drinking her furious expression in. Her pouty lips were giving him ideas, making him stifle a groan at the last minute.

"Hi. I came to see you." Monica noticed his voice was husky. He needed to leave.

His eyes were moving over her body with such heated gaze, as if she was a meal and he was suddenly eager to devour her. Yes she was in bum shorts and a comfy shirt but she wasn't expecting him and only tried to feel comfortable in her home.

Monica gulped. "Now you've seen me. You should go...thanks."

"Soon." He leaned in and Monica instinctively took a step back, which was definitely a wrong move, because Sucre slid in past her and even went ahead to make himself feel comfortable in her sitting room.

Monica instantly went into calculative mode as the man sat on a chair in the middle of her sitting room, grabbing ninety percent of the space in the sitting room with his presence and authoritative frame alone. She slammed the door shut and hurried after him, her senses heightening at the thought of them being alone in the same space.

Compared to Sucre's usually dominating form, every other thing in Monica's condo looked like peanut at the moment. His body build, the dark expression in his eyes which she was used to, the tautness of his muscles in that shirt... they took the space and sucked the air out. Monica checked the time with heavy eyelids, suddenly feeling somewhat exhausted due to constantly over thinking.