Page 15 of Stuck with the Billionaire Celebrity

I’ve always been overprotective, but after everything with Alexia happened, I shoved that part of me way down.

Too many people like to take advantage of kind, caring men.

She’s a gorgeous woman, and it’s hard not to notice her soft curves and the confident way she carries herself. She is made for the red dress she’s wearing.

Her long black hair falls in waves down her back, and her deep brown eyes make you want to stare into them for hours.

It’s hard not to remember how she moans my name.

Get your mind out of that area, Theo. You cannot see this woman as anything other than an unwanted guest in your house. You can’t risk letting your guard down again.

The hum of the engine fills the car as we drive in silence a few hours later. Grace sits beside me, staring out the window, her arms crossed in front of her chest as if protecting herself from someone.

Is she scared of me?

Good, she should be.

She hasn’t said much since we left the event; frankly, I’m not in the mood to make small talk.

My driver, Marcus, navigates the winding roads with precision, his eyes fixed on the pavement ahead. The city lights fade behind us, replaced by the quiet expanse of the countryside.

I glance over at Grace. Her posture is stiff, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on her arm.

“Almost there,” Marcus says, breaking the silence.

“You moved?” she asks softly.

“I had to. Alexia destroyed my house.”

She doesn’t respond and continues to stare out the window. We’re approaching the gates now, the large wrought-iron monstrosities I had installed when I purchased a new home after the Alexia debacle.

Imposing and impenetrable, they stand as a reminder that no one gets through unless I say so.

The car slows as we reach the entrance. Marcus rolls down his window, swiping a card through the reader. The gates groan as they swing open, revealing the long, tree-lined driveway that leads to my estate.

The high stone walls surrounding the property keep it hidden from view, adding another layer of security. My home is my fortress, designed to keep everyone out.

“This is a bit much, don’t you think?” she questions with a dirty look. “Flaunting your money.”

“I like my privacy. And want to keep people out.”

“You mean, you don’t want people to see the real you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Maybe if you kept people out, your stalker wouldn’t have been in your house,” I hiss back at her.

Her eyes widen as she pulls back a little. “I have the best security system there is.”

“Clearly not,” I scoff. “Now you need me to rescue you.”

“Don’t you worry, I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

She shifts beside me as we drive through, her eyes widening slightly as she takes in the sprawling grounds.

The perfectly manicured lawns stretch out on either side of the driveway, and in the distance, the house rises up like something out of a movie.

It’s grand, to say the least, a modern architectural marvel with clean lines and expansive glass windows, all set against the backdrop of the rolling countryside.

When we finally pull up in front of the house, Marcus stops the car, and I climb out, my shoes crunching against the gravel. I reach back in and offer my hand to Grace, watching as she hesitates before stepping out.

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