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The Billionaire Who Hated Me... Until I Stole His Heart Novel Cover

The Billionaire Who Hated Me... Until I Stole His Heart

Six years ago, I stole from a stranger. I was desperate, broken, and trying to save the only family I had left. I never expected that stranger to be a billionaire. Or that one reckless night would bind our lives forever. Now he's back-powerful, haunted, and dangerous. He doesn't remember me... but he remembers the theft. I work in his hotel. He signs my paychecks. And the secret I've carried for six years could destroy us both. He wants answers. I want redemption. But when desire burns hotter than guilt, and the past refuses to stay buried, loving him might cost me everything, including the truth he deserves.
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Chapter 5

As I entered the large gates of the Thorne Hotels and Suites, I immediately noticed the ruckus, which contrasted with the calm and elegance that is Thorne Hotels and Suites, one of the largest, top five-star hotels in Aberdeen, where I worked as a concierge.

"What's happening, Rufus?" I asked one of the gardeners who was trimming the lawn profusely.

"Oh, hey Leah. Well, It came all too sudden. We all got a call this morning that the Thorne annual fundraiser had been moved to this place last minute. So, everyone's in a frenzy to get the place in shape within a week."

I scoffed.

"But the whole place is sparkling. Why the pressure? It's not like we've been idle the whole time. We've actually been working."

"Tell that to the organizers. They've become devils at this point. Going at everyone with pitchforks."

I sighed tiredly. The pressure was massive as it was; now there would be even more.

I facepalmed myself and began walking in.

"Thanks, Rufus," I said with a wave, getting a nod in response.

From then, the day spiraled out of control. We were made to check the rooms several times, making sure no duvet was mismatched nor a toiletry missing. We were re-drilled on how to act and behave professionally with the dignitaries who would arrive early.

We had to help out with setting up the large hall for the event and do loads more. Oh! It was so exhausting.

This went on for days. I almost died!

I came home at midnight exhausted, then had to wake up early to go for my classes in the morning, then spend a few hours at the library to study for my exams, after which I'd go to the hotel.

"Leah!"

"Yes, Mr. Scott?!" I squeaked, freezing on the spot.

"Why hasn't the executive suites been checked today? The guests will be arriving by next week!" Mr. Scott, our prim and proper manager, dressed in his tailored, crease-free suit, yelled in his British accent.

I had just finished going through thirty rooms! Checking, rechecking, dusting, rearranging. Give me a break, man! It's quite difficult working in heels.

"Sir, I just used the restroom."

"Don't care. Go get those rooms fixed!"

I sighed, grumbling profanities under my breath.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"Nothing, sir."

"That's right," he said sarcastically.

I entered the elevator to the 30th floor and made my way to the executive suites. That should be the last set of rooms for the day before I could do other things and call it a night.

"Just one more room, one more room," I sang tiredly as I made my way to the last room.

I opened the door and walked into the already sparkling room, moving sluggishly from one place to the other. I was ready to pass out at this point.

Once I was done, I came into the bedroom for a final check.

There, on the king-sized bed, lay the fluffiest, coziest-looking duvet I'd ever seen.

I widened my eyes as the bed called out to me.

My colleague June was in charge of all executive suites, but she'd been assigned to the presidential suite earlier today because certain guests preferred bustier and curvier concierges. Bleh!

Well, she should have known that this room was for a man who had no such preferences. I scrolled through the tab and saw that I was right. The guest had requested plain, dark-colored sheets and duvet. This was why Mr. Scott yelled at us! What gets to me the most is that people like her aren't blamed for their mistakes because they have pretty privileges. We end up taking the brunt of their mishaps.

I sighed for the hundredth time that day. Thank God I had some sheets and a duvet that matched the aesthetics. I quickly got to work, replacing everything and fixing it just like we'd been drilled.

By the time I fixed the last crease, my legs gave up, sending me right onto the bed.

I wanted to scream but was too exhausted to get anything out. I simply gave in and lay there.

In my subconscious, I could make out sounds at the entrance of the door. I tried to get up, but sleep paralysis wouldn't let me. I'd exerted myself for too long.

If it were Mr. Scott walking through that door, then I was completely done for.

After several tries, I gave up, allowing my tired body the repose it greatly needed. As if in agreement, I felt warmth all around me. I sighed contentedly, succumbing to the calls of overdue sleep, and maybe a possible termination.

"Leah! Wake up!"

"Yeah, I'm awake!" I yelled, widening my eyes and springing up. I darted my eyes around but saw no one.

Was I hallucinating?

I looked around again. Everything looked normal to me...except for the duvet covering the other half of my body.

Someone was in here!

No! Someone is still in here! I gasped in realization as I heard water running in the bathroom.

"We caught the intruder in the executive room. We don't know how he got in, but he's been arrested. The police said he usually goes around huge hotels and resorts pretending to be part of the elite, then ends up seducing women and scamming people out of their money."

That was said by a male colleague of mine sometime last month when we'd had an intruder in the executive suite.

I gasped, covering my mouth. Was that what this was? Was the intruder here?!

I shuffled around, looking for anything to defend myself. I should call security! I quickly reached for the bedside phone and, with shaky hands, dialed the security line.

"Hello, Thorne Security Services..."

"Matthew! There's an intruder!" I whispered loudly.

"Leah?" came the confused voice of Matthew, one of the security men on duty.

"Yes, it's me! There's an intruder in ES 30. Come quick!"

"Leah! Get out of there! We're on our way!"

"He's in the shower. Oh! He's turned off the shower."

"Leah! Listen to me. Do not do anything. Just get out of there!"

Well, if I'm to let you in on a not-so-secret thing about me, it's that I don't listen. It's been the bane of my existence. I do not listen.

In my defense, though, I felt I needed to keep an eye out to make sure he didn't escape. It was a long way from the security post. Deep down, I also wanted to play hero.

I slowly picked up a heavy bronze figurine on the table and moved toward the bedroom entrance, then hid behind the wall leading to the passageway.

I could hear him open the glass door and walk out. I gripped the figurine tightly, ready to bash the intruder into unconsciousness. My heart thumped dangerously against my ribcage, on the verge of exploding. My breath

hitched as I heard him come closer and closer.

Then, with one swift move and a battle cry, I lunged for victory!

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