Page 15 of Billionaire Wolf Needs a Fake Girlfriend

"Morning," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

He set his phone down and gestured to the coffee maker. "There's coffee if you want some."

I nodded and busied myself with making a cup, grateful for the distraction. But I could feel his eyes on me, watching me. It made my skin tingle and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

"Sasha," he said finally, breaking the silence. "About last night--"

"We don't have to talk about it," I interrupted, my voice sharper than I intended. "We had a lot of wine with dinner. It was a lapse of judgment. That's all."

He frowned, his brow furrowing. "A lapse?"

I turned to face him, clutching my coffee cup like a lifeline. "Denver, this is complicated enough already. We can't just let our emotions get in the way."

He stood and took a step toward me. His expression softened as he tilted his head. "Sasha, I meant what I said last night. This isn't just a fling for me. It's real. And I think you feel the same way."

I gripped the edge of the counter and looked away, my heart pounding in my chest. "It doesn't matter how we feel. We have a plan, Denver. A plan that doesn't include this."

He covered the top of my hand in his, gently unclenching my hands and weaving our fingers together. "Plans change. People change. We're both adults, Sasha. We don't have to stick to a script we wrote before we knew how much we'd care about each other."

I opened my mouth to argue, but the words caught in my throat. Because deep down, I knew he was right. This wasn't pretend anymore. It hadn't been for a while. But that didn't make it any less terrifying.

Before I could respond, my phone buzzed on the counter. I glanced at it and froze. It was a text from an unknown number. My stomach dropped when I opened it. There was a photo of me and Denver having dinner at the penthouse the night before, along with a chilling message.

"You can't escape me. I'm always watching."

My hands trembled as I stared at the screen, my coffee forgotten. Denver glanced at the screen and immediately, his jaw clenched as his eyes darkened with anger.

"That's it," he growled. "You're not going back to the office. We're staying here until we figure this out."

I shook my head, panic rising in my chest. "Denver, I can't just hide forever. This is my job, my life."

"Your safety comes first," he interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. "I'm not going to let you face this alone, Sasha. I'm here, and I'll do whatever it takes to protect you."

His words should have comforted me, but they only made the knot in my stomach tighten. "Denver, this is my problem. I don't want to drag you into it."

He cupped my face in his hands, his touch firm but gentle. "You're not dragging me into anything. I'm already in this, Sasha."

His eyes met mine, and I recognized the sincerity shining from them. It was overwhelming, the way he looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered. My breath hitched, and I felt myself wavering. But the fear, the doubt, it was still there, gnawing at my heart. "Denver, what if this ruins everything? My career, your reputation?"

He sighed, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "None of it matters if I don't have you."

My eyes filled with tears. Nobody had ever put me first like this. I looked away. "I don't know if I'm ready for this. For us."

"That's okay," he said softly, his thumb brushing against my cheek. "You don't have to have it all figured out. Just let me be here for you. Let me protect you. We'll figure the rest out together."

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to let go of the fear and the doubt and just trust that this could work. But it wasn't that simple. Not with the stalker breathing down my neck, not with the board watching our every move, and not with the messy tangle of emotions between us.

Denver seemed to sense my hesitation. He stepped back, giving me space, but his eyes never left mine. "Take your time. I'm not going anywhere. But for now, let's focus on keeping you safe. We'll work from here, and I'll make sure you're never alone."

I nodded. It wasn't ideal, but Denver was right. We had to lay low as long as the stalker was out there. "Okay."

He gave me a small, reassuring smile before pulling me into a hug. I buried my face in his chest, letting myself melt into his warmth. For the first time in weeks, I felt safe. But I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that this fragile peace wouldn't last.

Over the next few days, we fell into a routine. To my surprise, Denver didn't work in his private office. Instead, he set up his computer in the living room while I claimed the dining table for my sketches. The space became a strange mix of professional and personal, and it felt both comforting and surreal to share this part of my life with Denver.

He was surprisingly attentive, in between his own work, he made sure I had everything I needed, snacks and coffee made just the way I liked it, and he was even quiet when I was deep in thought. It was strange to see this gentle side of him compared to his notorious reputation as a cold businessman who used and discarded employees and women.

After a long day of work, we had dinner together. His chef, Lydia, was on duty today, and she had prepared a feast of grilled scallops and prawns on a bed of pasta.

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