Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 29567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Everything else in the apartment is just… there.
When the lights are fully illuminated, I see Dominic looking around with his jaw clenched.
“Would you like a tour?” I try to lighten the sudden dip in mood. “Well, I mean, you’ll need to take your shoes off and then try not to step too hard on the floorboards by the window because—”
“Pack up your shit,” he interrupts.
“What?” I cross my arms. “Why?”
“Pack. Up. Your. Shit,” he repeats himself. “You don’t live here anymore.”
“You could just say ‘no’ to the tour.” I laugh. “I appreciate the ride home. I’ll see you tomorrow, and you can leave the same way you came.”
“Exactly,” he says. “With you.”
“Come again?”
“I’m not letting you stay another night here, and I’m not leaving without you,” he says, glancing at his watch. “So either start packing, or I’ll call someone to pack everything for you.”
“You think you can just make me move out of my apartment?”
“Can you ask your ridiculous questions and pack your things at the same time?” he asks. “It would prevent me from taking more drastic measures…”
My mouth opens, but nothing comes out.
“What part of what I’m saying is unclear, Ivy?” The way my name falls from his lips is dangerous.
“You’re serious.”
“Dead-ass serious.”
“Well, I need time to go through things and—”
“Tracey?” His phone is against his ear, and he’s dismissed me like we’re at work. “I’m going to send you an address and I need you to get me—” He looks around my room. “Six full sets of luggage within the hour. Thank you.”
He ends the call and leans against a door.
“There,” he says. “You have an hour’s time.”
THE INTERN
IVY
Iprobably only need twenty minutes to pack everything I own, but I take my time under Dominic’s gaze, wanting to hold on to some sense of control. Some bit of agency.
As we ride back to his side of town, I try to stir up conversation, but he doesn’t look bothered by the silence. He keeps his gaze straight ahead, one hand steady on the wheel, the other resting casually on the center console. Every few minutes, a call comes through his dashboard, and he answers and ends each one in under a minute.
They’re all about work.
As we pass the Manhattan Bridge, my phone vibrates in my purse.
Nolan (BF… I think?)
Hey babe. Hope you’ve been doing well. I know our six-month break has been hard on you, and it’s been hard on me, too…
I heard you got a promotion?
Going back to work, just wanted to reach out & say I missed you.
Hope your pussy has missed my dick. <3
Oh my god.
I silence my phone and drop it deeper into my bag.
When I look up again, we’re pulling in front of a sleek black building on Billionaire’s Row. I bite my lip to stop myself from gasping.
The underground garage greets us with bright white lights, high ceilings, and polished marble floors that reflect the car’s headlights.
A man in a suit approaches the moment Dominic parks.
“Good evening, Mr. Sutton,” he says, tipping his hat before walking over to open my door.
“Good evening, Mitchell. This is Ivy Locke.” Dominic steps beside me. “Ivy, this is Mitchell. He manages all my affairs in this building.”
“Nice to meet you.” I offer my hand, but Mitchell lifts it to his lips for a swift kiss.
“There are two other cars on the way with her things,” Dominic says. “I’d like everything delivered into her temporary new space—the guest suite—by midnight.”
“No, that’s okay.” I shake my head. “I won’t be living here that long. I can give you a storage address instead.”
“I’ll handle it exactly as you want, sir.” Mitchell doesn’t acknowledge me. After another tip of his hat, he’s gone.
Dominic presses a key fob, and the elevator ahead opens with a soft chime.
“Tracey will show you some apartment options this week,” he says.
“Just so we’re clear,” I say, following him inside, “I won’t be sleeping in your bed or your room during my stay here.”
“Okay, Miss Locke.”
“I’m being serious,” I add. “And it would make me more comfortable with this situation if I had a couch far away from your bedroom.”
“You’ll have an entire guest suite to yourself.” He glances over at me, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “Do you just enjoy arguing and making your life more difficult, or do you really mean the shit you say?”
I don’t answer. I just wait until the elevator reaches his floor.
The doors open directly into the penthouse, and I try not to gasp.
Floor-to-ceiling windows cast Manhattan in soft sundown hues of gold. Sleek grey furniture guards matching marble floors that look untouched, like no footsteps have ever dared cross them.
I walk in slowly, drawn toward the main window. The city stretches beneath us in every direction—rooftops, bridges, water, light. I can see everything I’ve never had access to. And none of where I came from.