Page 20 of Stalked By the Billionaire

Should I have pushed him for the answers I craved once I knew who he was? Or did I make the right decision all along when I left him?

I don’t know.

What I do know is that I miss him terribly, more than I’ve ever missed anyone.

But if I can’t trust him, or worse, he doesn’t trust me. Where does that leave us? What is a relationship without trust?

He’s a successful entrepreneur, and he kept it all from me for a reason. He asked me to work for his company, yet he hid the real stuff from me.

I swallow back the lump that quickly forms in my throat. I don’t understand him. When it all comes down to the nitty-gritty, I no longer trust him, but he never trusted me, either.

I curl up on the sofa after another epic phone call with my ex-colleague and good friend Trina. Again, she tried to make me see his side.

But she doesn’t know him—to be fair, it turns out, neither do I.

But Trina, as always, is great at giving advice to her friends, but she’s the girl who gives into her fears and hides behind closed doors.

And what does she say when I tell her that? She tells me she would give someone a chance if she thought she could love them, regardless of the heartache she’s endured.

One day, Trina, I’d like to see that—I’m not holding my breath.

The noise of knuckles rapping on my door makes me spin.

“Oh, God.” I hope she isn’t here to give me more words of wisdom. I told her I didn’t want any company. Told her I’m happy to wallow in self-pity.

But now she is here, I hope she’s brought wine to celebrate her new job. She’s been promoted to the executive assistant to a higher level boss. At least she got away from that leech, Mr. Grant.

“Just a minute,” I groan.

The pounding gets harder. It’s enough for the neighbors to come out and complain.

I pull open the door, expecting to see my friend, but I stand open-mouthed as Killian...Harrisonstands in front of me. His hands are pushed into the pockets of his knee-length coat.

“Can we talk?” he asks. His hazel eyes search my face, waiting for something, an ounce of resolve. “Please, five minutes.”

I sigh and move away from the door.

He glances around my studio, noticing my blankets on the sofa and my pillows. I groan. Now he knows I’ve been upset over him.

He walks to me, his hand rises to my face before his finger slowly traces under my eyes. “Have you been sleeping?” he asks.

“When I can,” I say.

I no longer pull out the bed portion of the sofa. I just keep my duvet and pillows on the top for when sleep finds me. I wish I could sleep one day and wake up from my nightmare, but every waking moment, all I can think about is him.

“I love you, Gabriella,” his voice breaks at his admission, and that causes my heart to wrench in my chest. “I know you don’t believe me right now, but I’ll do anything to prove it to you.”

His face is full of hope and something inside me tells me I believe him, but I don’t tell him that.

I need to hear more.

It isn’t enough.

“From the first moment I saw you, I knew you were the one. And I know it’s crazy, but I’ve loved you ever since the day we gazed at each other outside the coffee shop, Gabby. I just knew, and that’s why I offered you a job. I wanted you the moment I set my eyes on you, and I’ve never felt that way about anything or anyone in my entire life.”

“You didn’t trust me,” I say.

He sighs and shakes his head. “I did. I wanted you more than my next breath, but I desperately wanted you to love me for what you first found. A geek, a poor nerd who wore glasses but adored you from the moment he saw you.”

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