Page 4 of Billionaire Wolf Needs a Maid

Chapter 3

NINA

The alarm on my phone went off, its tinkling melody pulling me out of my dreams. I stretched, wincing at the faint ache in my muscles from yesterday's cleaning marathon. It was now day four, and I was still here. Still alive and standing. And, if the faint hum of Jenkins's system was any indication, I was starting to win over the penthouse's resident snarky AI.

"Good morning, sunshine," Jenkins' voice echoed from the ceiling, dripping with his usual sarcasm. "Ready for another day of futile attempts to domesticate the beast?"

I rolled my eyes, but a smile tugged at my lips. "Good morning to you, too, Jenkins. And for the record, I'm not trying to domesticate anyone. Just civilize him a little."

"Good luck with that," he muttered, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone.

I padded into the kitchen, the cool tile floor soothing against my bare feet. The faint scent of coffee grounds lingered in the air, and I breathed it in, letting it ground me. One step at atime, Nina. Jenkins turned on the overhead lights as I walked in, the soft glow of the recessed lighting making the stainless steel appliances in the room gleam. Pausing, I held my breath as I listened for noise from the direction of Mr. Nightfang's bedroom or his office. Nothing. He was still asleep. By the typing sounds coming from behind his office door last night, he was probably exhausted from his late-night coding session.

I brewed a fresh pot of coffee, letting the rich smoky fragrance rise around me in a warm embrace. As I sipped at my cup, I leaned against the concrete kitchen island and watched as the sun began to rise over the top of Huntington Harbor's skyline. After I finished my coffee, I pulled out his mug from the cupboard. It was a sleek black cup which I had found buried under a mountain of technical manuals and dusty discarded circuit boards. The thing was stylish and foreboding, just like its owner. I set the cup on the counter next to the pot of coffee. Next to it, I placed a small sticky note, the neon yellow paper stark against the gray concrete counter.

Grabbing a pen, I scribbled a short note. "Good morning. Don't forget to eat something other than coffee." I added a smiley face for good measure. My pen paused over the paper for a moment before I decided it wasn't too much. He could learn to lighten up a little.

"You're going to make him choke on his coffee," Jenkins quipped. "He's not used to kindness."

I rolled my eyes, setting the note beside the mug. "Maybe he just needs a little reminder that he's human."

"Debatable," Jenkins muttered, but there was a hint of amusement in his tone.

I moved on to the living area, where it seemed like Mr. Nightfang had a late-night tinkering session. After tidying up the scattered tech manuals, I organized the tangled wires on the ground into neat coils. The penthouse was still unconventional, a mad scientist's lab, but it was starting to resemble a home more than a disaster zone. I cheerfully hummed a tune as I worked, letting the rhythm guide my body.

When he emerged from his office, I was in the middle of dusting the bookshelves. He looked as though he'd wrestled with sleep and lost. His dark hair stuck up in unruly tufts, as if he'd spent the night running his hands through it in frustration. His T-shirt was wrinkled, the fabric clinging to his broad shoulders in a way that suggested he'd slept or tossed around in it. Dark shadows hung under his eyes, which were dulled by exhaustion. Still, he swept his gaze across the room like a predator assessing the situation. It made me feel like he was cataloging every change I had made. He paused on the pile of manuals. Something flickered across his face, maybe annoyance, but it could have been appreciation. It was hard to tell with him.

"Morning," I said, keeping my tone light and cheerful. "Coffee's ready."

He grunted in response, his gaze sweeping across the living area to the kitchen before landing on the mug and the note for a moment. He grabbed it and retreated back to his office. The door clicked shut behind him, and I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

"Charming as ever," Jenkins said dryly.

I shrugged, turning back to the bookshelves. "Baby steps."

But as I dusted, I couldn't help the small pang of disappointment in my chest. Why does he have to make everything so hard? Would it kill him to simply be civil? I shook my head, forcing myself to focus. Patience, Nina. He's not going to change overnight.

The rest of the morning passed in a blur of cleaning and organizing. Jenkins kept up a steady stream of commentary, his sarcasm oddly comforting in its familiarity. By midday, I was just finishing up in the kitchen when I heard the soft creak of Dean's office door.

He stepped out, his expression unreadable. I wiped my hands on a towel, offering him a smile. "Lunch?"

He shook his head, his gaze flicking to the kitchen counter where I'd left a plate of BLT sandwiches. "I'm not hungry."

"You should eat," I said, my tone gentle but firm. "You can't live on coffee and takeout."

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might snap at me. But then he sighed, rubbing his hand across his face. "Fine."

He grabbed a sandwich, his movements quick and deliberate, and turned to leave. But I wasn't ready to let him retreat just yet.

"So," I said, leaning against the counter. "What are you working on? Anything exciting?"

He paused, his back to me. "Just work."

"Cryptic," I teased, my smile widening. "Must be top secret."

He glanced over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. "Something like that."

I laughed. "Well, if you ever need a test subject, let me know. I'm great at breaking things."

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