Page 30 of My Billionaire Boss Crush

My heart quickens, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of my stomach. Who could it be at this hour, disrupting the peace of the night?

Curiosity mingled with apprehension pulls me from the bed, my bare feet padding softly against the cool wooden floor. Each knock resounds like an echo from the past, awakening dormant memories that I had long thought buried. Swallowing my anxiety, I walk down the stairs and approach the door, cautiously peering through the peephole.

My ex-wife stands on the other side, her silhouette etched against the faint glow of the porch light. The sight of her sends a jolt of surprise and unease through me. It has been years since we last crossed paths, the remnants of our failed marriage cast aside and replaced with a semblance of peace.

But here she is, a ghost from my past, seeking entry into the present. I hesitate, my hand lingering on the doorknob, torn between the instinct to protect myself and the remnants of a history we once shared.

Steeling myself, I take a deep breath and open the door, allowing her to step into my life once more. "Tianna?" My voice betrays a mix of curiosity and caution.

She meets my gaze, her eyes glaring at me with unfiltered anger. “What the hell, Alexander? Why did I have to hear from my daughter’s teacher that she had an accident?”

Oh, it’s about to be a long day.

Chapter seventeen

The Confrontation-Blair

The morning sun filters through the curtains, casting gentle rays of light across the room. I slowly awaken, the remnants of sleep dissipating as reality seeps in. It doesn’t take long for me to realize that I’m not in my bedroom at my apartment.

Memories from the previous night flood my mind, the dinner, Summer’s questions, the storm outside, and the decision to sleep over in Alex’s house, intertwining with a mix of apprehension and something else I can’t quite figure out.

When Alex led me to this room, I saw the unmistakable desire in his eyes. And it had seemed like he wanted to do something about it, but I pulled away, not because I didn’t want him to but because I didn’t want to get rejected again.

As I move to rise from the bed, a faint sound catches my attention, muffled voices seeping through the closed door. Curiosity piqued, I listen intently, trying to decipher the conversation that unfolds on the other side. But as the words become clearer, my heart plummets, and a knot forms in the pit of my stomach.

The voices grow louder, the tone escalating into heated exchanges. Panic sets in as I realize that the voices belong to Alex and another woman.

Oh no, what if he has a girlfriend? I never thought to ask if he was seeing someone, and neither did I anticipate this encounter, and the timing couldn't be worse. Fear and uncertainty seize hold of me, but I know I can't hide forever.

Summoning my courage, I leave the confines of the room and follow the voices, my steps faltering as I approach the source of the commotion. The scene that unfolds before me freezes me in my tracks.

There they stand, Alex and a woman who looks to be in her forties, locked in a tense confrontation. Of course, he’s dating someone within his age range.

I can’t help but notice how gorgeous the woman looks with her long, brown locks and pretty brown eyes. Her slim body showcases curves that sit well on her frame. She could pass for a model with her striking features and gorgeous long legs. Jealousy engulfs me, leaving a bitter tang in my mouth.

But as soon as I see the anger radiating from Alex’s features and the pain etching lines of desperation across the woman’s face, I start to wonder what exactly it is they’re arguing about.

Surely, it can’t be because of me. Did she somehow know that I spent the night here and came to see for herself?

For a brief moment, I become an observer, invisible amidst the chaos. Their words clash like swords, accusations and insults piercing the air. Everything becomes clear when I hear the next words that rumble out of Alex’s chest.

“Maybe if you had replied to the many messages I sent you or bothered enough to make contact with our daughter, I would have told you about the accident,” Alex booms.

Then it occurs to me; the woman is not his girlfriend. She’s his ex-wife, the mother of his child. I feel like an intruder, caught in the crossfire of a battle that doesn't belong to me. But I can't tear my gaze away.

“That doesn’t give you the right to keep that kind of information from me, you bastard,” Alex’s ex-wife yells, and I wince at her use of that swear word.

Deciding to give them their privacy, I start to walk backward, but my leg hits a stool, and the screeching sound pierces the room. Two sets of eyes immediately swing to me mid-walk, and I instantly freeze.

Maybe if I don’t speak, they won’t see me. But those eyes appraise me, taking in the outfit I have on, and I blush, feeling totally embarrassed when I remember that I had worn one of Alex’s old shirts to bed last night.

The soft, grey, cotton material falls to my mid-thighs, and it’s quite obvious that I’m not wearing a bra because my nipples are shamelessly poking through the top. Mortified, I throw my arms over my breasts and suck in a deep breath.

I summon the strength to step forward, my voice trembling yet determined. "Excuse me," I interject softly, hoping to diffuse the tension. "I... I didn't mean to intrude. I'll give you both some space."

Silence hangs in the air, heavy with unspoken words. Alex’s gaze meets mine, a flicker of guilt and desire reflected in his eyes. His ex-wife, on the other hand, looks even angrier than before as she lands her cold, scathing gaze on my face.

Before Alex can speak, his ex-wife beats him to it. “And who the hell is this?” She spits out, keeping those cunning eyes on me.

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