Page 13 of Possessive Billionaire's Twisted Hunt

Christian scowled, tapping a pen against the table with increasing intensity. "I’ve already tried treating her properly, but it doesn’t work on her. She barely even talks to me—like I’m not worth her time."

Sawyer suppressed another laugh. Considering Christian’s silent, brooding, and almost overbearing presence, it was a miracle he even liked a woman—let alone pursued one. It wasno surprise that he was more likely to intimidate her than charm her.

Sitting up straight, Sawyer set his glass of water down. "By the way, where are you right now? I heard from your dad that your psychosomatic paralysis has been getting worse lately."

Christian’s grip on the pen tightened for a second before he dropped it onto the desk. “It’s better now,” he muttered. “Ever since I met Ivy again, it's been more under control.”

“Good. Tell me if it surfaces again. I will help you. Day and night, it doesn't matter.”

Christian grumbled in acknowledgment before hanging up.

A few minutes later, Christian’s phone buzzed again. This time, it was Samuel, his secretary.

"Mr. Evans, there’s a meeting with a client in Seattle tomorrow. Should I arrange your flight for the morning?"

Christian glanced out the window. Snow blanketed the city, and a sudden thought crossed his mind—had Ivy made it home safely? Was she caught in the snowfall?

His grip on the pen tightened, then relaxed as he made his decision.

"No," he said. "I’m not going. Arrange a video conference or make other arrangements."

“Understood, sir.”

Christian was about to hang up when he paused. "Samuel?"

"Yes, Mr. Evans?"

"Where is Ivy tomorrow? Is she going to the office as usual?"

There was a brief pause before Samuel answered, “I just double-checked, Mr. Evans. Ms. Watson is leaving for a business trip to Seattle early tomorrow morning. I’m not sure how many days she’ll be staying. There’s no return ticket booked yet.”

Christian’s fingers curled into a fist, his grip on the pen tightening until his knuckles turned white. A moment later, he flicked the pen onto the table with a careless motion, his expression unreadable.

"Book my meeting in Seattle for tomorrow morning," he ordered coldly. "And reserve a room for me in the same hotel where Ivy is staying."

***

Jenna yawned loudly as she and Ivy stepped out of the hotel lobby and onto the bustling street of Seattle. Ivy walked beside her, scanning her surroundings as they made their way forward.

"Damn, I'm so fucking hungry," Jenna grumbled. "What’s with this hotel not delivering food to the rooms? I was already late, couldn't go downstairs for the buffet, and now I’m starving."

Ivy frowned, glancing at her in confusion. "What are you talking about? My breakfast was delivered to my room at nine—and I didn’t even ask for it."

Jenna stopped, turning to her with a frown. "That’s not possible. I specifically called and asked, and they told me they don’t deliver to rooms."

Ivy was taken aback for a moment, but before she could say anything, Jenna checked the time and sighed. "I gotta go, I’m already late. See you in the evening."

Ivy nodded. "Grab something to eat on the way."

"I will." Jenna flashed a quick smile before hurrying off to work.

Ivy watched her disappear into the crowd, a nagging thought forming in her mind. Had Christian arranged for her breakfast? There was no one else who would do something like that.

But why would he? And how would he even know where she was staying?

This hotel was much smaller than what someone like him would consider staying in.

She shook her head, pushing the thought aside. Maybe she was just overthinking.

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