Mr Billionaire's Heart✔️(Edited and Polished)

CHAPTER 10 NIGHTMARE

I deliberately opened my eyes from my sleep while lying in my bed, and I felt a delicate blanket about my midriff.

I don't know how I wound up on the bed; I strikingly recall passing snoozing on my room's floor.

Then, at that point, I cleaned my eyes, and the primary thing I saw was Aaron sitting on my bed, watching at me with concerned filled eyes. This was whenever I first saw he was worried about me, and I sat up on my bed, realizing he was the person who put Oilment and restorative wrap on my injury.

"It doesn't hurt a lot," I told him, hoping to recognize a brief look at trust easily that he thinks often about me.

My heart is surging so rapidly as I feel his profound look over me, stop at my lips, then, at that point, my bosoms, then, at that point, return to my eyes.

"I realize you care about me," I told him with a grin.

That sweet articulation in his eyes changed back to a cold and brutal one when he comprehended what I was talking about.

"No, I couldn't care less about you; I just did this since I'm the one in particular who can harm you; no other person can." He muttered something solidly and left my room.

I looked at the entryway where he had simply left my room, pondering, "For what reason doesn't he concur that he thinks often about me?" I grinned to myself, yet my smile immediately blurred as I understood he could never adore me.

********

I'm having breakfast in the lounge area at this moment.

Then, at that point, in his expensive blue perfect Armani suit, Aaron arises, seeming to be a model straight out of a magazine.

For what reason would he say he is so appealing?

He's Satan, that is a no.

Aaron sat in a lounge area seat, totally unaware of my presence until Amy shows up and puts his morning meal and espresso on the table, following which she serves me more hotcakes.

I told her, frowning, "No, I'm finished."

"Eat, no doubt about it," she said straight, ruling out contention.

At the point when Aaron got soon his morning meal, I briskly positioned his lunch enclose front of him, which I had arranged for him.

"For what reason do you cook today? You don't have to do cooking since house keepers are there, and your leg is likewise harmed," he made sense of.

"My leg is harmed, not my hand, and it's anything but a significant injury; I'm improving today," I made sense of.

"I propose this since, supposing that something happens to you, how might I am familiar with that man who gives you that envelope, your world, which is so essential for my business," he expressed strongly.

After he left, I went with the choice that to effectively defend myself, I expected to recognize that secret person who gave me the envelope, which Aaron disdains and accepts I'm the double-crosser who executed the data spill extortion.

Yet, where do I start? I have no clue about who that man was or the way in which he gave me the bundle.

Additionally, Aaron wouldn't allow me to take off from the house.

What am I going to do now?

I moaned and strolled over to the library.

To ease my exhausted head, I will peruse some fiction writing.

Indeed, one of Aaron's house's most alluring highlights is its library.

Columns upon lines of perfectly fixed up books with their spines confronting outward, variety coded with specks, fiction segment arranged in sequential request, youthful grown-ups region, youngsters' part with low retires and floor pads, delicate cowhide chairs.