Page 1 of My Arrogant Millionaire

1

Grace

My heart raced to my throat as I placed the keycard on the sleek, modern display. The sound of unlocking filled the air, and I heaved an inward sigh of relief. To my fortune, the damned lock of my new home for the next four weeks didn’t fail me. The entire building exuded opulence, adorned from top to bottom with the latest bells and whistles, brimming with high-tech marvels. When I received Mrs. Ramirez’s contact from my best friend William, I could never have imagined the journey I was about to embark on. All I sought was a haven to embrace me at the lowest point of my life.

No, absolutely not—I refused to wallow in self-pity any longer! I had spent far too long in that state; it was time to break free. And this was the beginning!

With eager anticipation, I pushed open the door and wheeled my suitcase into the spacious hallway of the apartment. A tantalizing aroma of peonies and lavender greeted me, emanating from a scent dispenser on an expensive-looking matte dresser. To be honest, every piece of furniture in this place was exorbitantly lavish. Even the toilet seat was probably made of gold. I whistled softly through my teeth, closed the door, and began my search for my new roommate.

»Jack?« I called cautiously into the interior, meandering down the hallway while examining the photos hanging on the wall. Mrs. Ramirez was quite an attractive woman for her age, one had to admit. And her cat meant the world to her, as evidenced by the multitude of pictures of him and her impassioned plea to look after him above all else. My new job title? Cat-sitter. To be precise, tomcat-sitter, but let’s not quibble, especially not when I was allowed to reside in this gem of a dwelling.

»Jack?« I called again for the tomcat, who had likely hidden himself away somewhere. I peeked into the room on the left, which appeared to be Mrs. Ramirez’s bedroom. A colossal cat tree loomed in one corner, and a sumptuous double bed adorned with a gray satin throw beckoned from the center of the room. I searched the cat tree and beneath the bed, yet found no black tomcat. Back in the hallway, the guest room on the right followed, complete with an en-suite bathroom and an identical bed. I was already giddy at the thought of falling asleep there or lounging in the freestanding bathtub, basking in the rosy-hued bubble bath that awaited me on the edge, held in a gleaming glass decanter.

I left the hallway in the opposite direction, passed an open-concept kitchen, and finally entered the grandest living room I had ever stepped foot in. My family was far from poor, but this level of wealth was entirely foreign to me. I traced the lines of a Greek statue resting on a round side table, discovered a leather seating arrangement before a wide, brick fireplace, and a dining area near the kitchen. My shoes clicked on the stone floor, and I wondered if I should have removed them. Hastily, I slipped out of my ankle boots and continued in my socks. From the looks of it, Mrs. Ramirez was quite particular about her apartment. I didn’t want to be responsible for any scratches or have to make additional payments.

A sudden, soft, questioning »meow« caught my attention, and I froze. »Jack? Jack Sparrow? Come here, boy,« I said gently, kneeling down. Suddenly, the little cat appeared from behind the wide sofa of the seating area, staring at me as if I were an intruder. To him, that’s precisely what I was. His silky black fur gleamed in the sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. »There you are,« I said quietly, and the tomcat cautiously took a step toward me. Remaining still, I waited for him to reach me and sniff my knee with his adorable little snout. Apparently deeming me capable enough, he emitted a soft purr from his slender body and pressed his head against my palm, which I held out to him.

»We’ll get along well over the next few weeks. I don’t like being alone either,« I confided in the tomcat, scratching his head. I had heard the concern in Mrs. Ramirez’s voice this morning when we spoke on the phone. Carefully, I pulled my phone from my pocket and snapped a selfie with Jack, which I sent to her. It took only a few minutes for her to reply, expressing her relief that we got along. And I was relieved too. What would have happened if Jack hadn’t accepted me? I would have likely had to move out immediately. Although it would have been challenging for Mrs. Ramirez to organize that personally from Australia, people like her always had their connections.

Slowly, so as not to startle the tomcat, I stood up. »Well, are you hungry, little guy?« I asked, walking into the kitchen. Mrs. Ramirez had informed me that not only would I receive a weekly wage for my work, but a food delivery would also be provided once a week, filling the entire refrigerator. And it was huge. Gigantic, to be exact. All I had to do was fill out the form lying at the end of the granite-colored countertop. That seemed manageable. I had never really thought about it because I hadn’t lacked for much in my life, but being filthy rich definitely had its perks. My mood lifted by the second, especially when I discovered the fully stocked fridge and pantry. I turned on my favorite playlist through my phone and set it aside, dancing and hopping as I prepared a cat menu for Jack and a sandwich for myself. I couldn’t believe that, after all the awful weeks I’d endured, I had hit the jackpot. At least for a certain period. I couldn’t and didn’t want to think about what would come afterward.

I sent Will a selfie and a big thank-you message as well, hopping around the room with the sandwich in hand, taking in everything. Mrs. Ramirez had truly impeccable taste, and I should already start moving the antique, expensive art pieces out of the way before I accidentally knocked something over. With my current luck, that could happen all too quickly.

The first thing I wanted to do after eating was to unpack my suitcase and take a bath in that gigantic bathtub I had discovered upon my initial glimpse of my room. Who knows, maybe I would spend the entire next few weeks in that golden marble bathroom? I would just need to step out occasionally to prepare Jack’s meals and play with him extensively. Finally, karma was treating me well again. My mom had always said I was a lucky child, and maybe I could finally believe her words once more. Jack sat on the freestanding kitchen island, eyeing me with a tilted head. I performed an especially swift spin, stuffing the last bit of my sandwich into my mouth and freezing mid-movement. Oh. My. God. A veritable Adonis, to be precise!

For the first time, my gaze fell through the window panes outside. The beautiful interior and overall atmosphere had completely blinded me. The building was constructed in an L-shape, which meant that I could look directly into the opposite apartment from mine. And not only that, but its owner seemed to care very little for the concepts of privacy or curtains. My mouth fell open as I watched him stroll through his apartment, shirtless, wearing only low-slung jeans on his slender hips. His place was similar to Mrs. Ramirez’s, with the exception that it was even larger and had a slightly different layout. I could see not only a perfect view of his living room and open kitchen but also a part of his bedroom. The man didn’t seem to mind that anyone on my side could watch him. Instead, he continued walking, pressing his phone tightly to his ear and saying something while his eyes were focused on the floor. My gaze wandered from his muscular abs, over his broad chest, up to his bicep, which tensed impressively under the grip of his phone. This man was a work of art, meant to be looked at. That’s why I didn’t feel any shame. On the contrary, his steps exuded pure arrogance, which immediately attracted me. As he continued speaking, my eyes fell on his mouth—full lips, perfectly curved, made for kissing. I could look at him, but I was well aware that this man, with the way he moved, how he spoke, and the furrowing of his dark brows, knew the effect he had on others. Especially on women. One could only get burned by such a specimen of a man.

Suddenly, he walked to the door, still on the phone. He opened it, and a woman appeared before him, grinning unabashedly. She was as breathtaking as he was, and together they made a perfect couple. He let her in with a nod and closed the door. The woman strutted into the apartment on unbelievably high heels, while he leaned against the kitchen counter, watching her. Her gaze wandered in the other direction, but she knew full well that he was looking at her. Slowly, she opened her black coat and let it slide off her shoulders. He didn’t move as the fabric fell, leaving her standing in front of him in just her underwear. I, on the other hand, gasped for air. She leisurely turned around to face him, and his grin turned wolfish. He nodded and continued talking, but apparently more to the person on the phone, as the woman didn’t respond. My heart raced and my hands grew clammy as she walked toward him and knelt down in front of him.

I knew that at this point, it was wrong to continue watching, yet I found myself unable to move, as if held captive by the scene unfolding before me. »Oh, Jack, did your owner know about this little performance?« I whispered, as if the two of them on the other side could hear me. But they certainly couldn’t, for they were far too engrossed in their passionate game. The woman traced her fingernails along the contours of his abdominal muscles, causing them to tighten and become even more pronounced. He grasped her fingers and guided them to his pants, knowing precisely what he desired. As she slowly pulled down his zipper, I was finally able to break free from my trance and turned away.

»I’m going to take a bath, Jack, and try to wash my eyes out with soap to erase this sight from my memory,« I murmured, fanning myself for air. I would have never expected such a display. Everything else about this apartment was phenomenal, but I hoped that my tantalizing neighbor wouldn’t put on these kinds of performances too often.

2

Baron

I didn’t bother getting dressed and casually strolled into the kitchen in my boxer briefs after waking up. Nicki’s visit yesterday had been unexpected but quite enjoyable. Even though I had to suggest that she shouldn’t get her hopes up about being received by me without a prior arrangement in the future. But yesterday had been a tough day, and the relaxation provided by her lips had been just what I needed.

I placed a cup under the spout and pressed the button on the coffee machine. Steaming, amber-colored coffee flowed fragrantly into the mug as I ran my fingers through my hair, looking outside. I was aware that most residents of the apartments on the other side could see me. And I was equally aware that Nicki’s presence and her blowjob at the kitchen counter could be seen as well. I wasn’t an exhibitionist; I simply didn’t care who watched me make breakfast or take a woman on my kitchen table.

Slowly but surely, autumn was replacing summer, bringing a wave of tourists to New York City. With a pleasant eighteen degrees and red-golden and orange-yellow leaves coloring the city, I couldn’t blame them. I too had arrived here in the fall, carrying ideas and dreams that were more than enough for two people. And now, I was one of the wealthiest men in the city, constantly featured in Forbes and other magazines. It was ridiculous that life-sized posters of me were visible in various places, yet I gladly welcomed the perks that came with this fame. Why not? I had worked damn hard for it and continued to do so.

The coffee machine fell silent, and I took my cup, standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows. I too had quite a view, especially into the apartment across the way. Not that a glance at the old lady with her black cat would have tempted me, but today my eyes found something else. Was Mrs. Ramirez hosting a granddaughter for a visit?

I spotted bright blonde hair and endlessly long legs in short shorts, barely visible beneath the oversized New York Knicks-printed shirt. One could have imagined she was naked under the fabric. Fuck. She sauntered from the hallway into the living room, petting the stretched-out tomcat on the couch, and shuffled further into the kitchen. Suddenly, she stopped and her face jerked toward me. Oh. She was quite hot and stared at me with her large eyes. Had she noticed me yesterday? Had she become an involuntary spectator? And had she enjoyed it?

A grin stole across my face. I leaned against the window, unable to tear my gaze away from her. We stared at each other across the distance, and I could practically hear the thoughts racing through her pretty little head. And I too had questions. Many questions. How long had she been living there? And most importantly, how long was she staying?

My smartphone rang, and I sighed. It was only eight in the morning, but my computer game development company was on the verge of a blockbuster release. There was so much to do that in recent weeks, I had been drawing my energy solely from coffee, energy drinks, and steamy one-night stands. Even tonight, I had lain in bed with my laptop until three o’clock, preparing things for the release. More accurately, I had delegated most tasks to my employees, but I was the type that if I could do it myself, I would.

Goldilocks was still standing like a deer caught in headlights in the middle of the living room. I took my phone off the counter and turned away from her. It was no good trying to think like this.

»Good morning, Mr. Spencer!« my assistant Betty said cheerfully.

»A beautiful good morning to you too,« I replied and took a sip of coffee. I could feel the gaze of my new neighbor on my back, but I suppressed the urge to turn around and strolled over to the dining table. »What’s up, Betty?« I asked and took a seat, tracing the deep grooves of my solid wood table with my finger.

»I really didn’t want to disturb you this early, but we have a problem.«

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