𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝

Chapter 20- Theo

Steam curls from the freshly brewed coffee, the rich aroma filling the penthouse kitchen. I watch the dark liquid swirl in the sleek, black mug. Sunlight streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting golden stripes across the polished concrete floor. I'm about to lift the mug to my lips and take a sip when a soft rustle from the hallway catches my attention.

There she is, Lydia. Stepping out of my bedroom, her hair a tousled mess and my oversized white T-shirt hanging loosely on her body, its hem skimming the tops of her thighs.

I can't help but picture the scene from last night– the alluring black dress clinging to her curves, undeniably purchased with my AmEx (a detail that both pleases and disappoints). Disappoints because frankly, the dress deserved a higher price tag for such a vision. It was just not expensive enough, and I needed her to spend more than that.

Then I remember her shivering in the cold air, and me tossing my oversized T-shirt over her dress. She needed to stay warm. And safe. Which is why she ended up in my bed.

Last night's club incident left her shaken, her mumbled pleas and restless sleep a constant reminder of her fear. Forcing myself to stay awake, I held her close, sacrificing a good night's rest for her comfort. And when I opened my eyes this morning, I realized seeing her face bathed in the soft sunlight first thing in the morning is a sight I want to wake up to for the rest of my life.... and well, let's just say it's worth every lost hour of sleep.

Now, her gaze narrows when it meets mine, and the accusatory glint in her irises yanks me back to reality. The AirPod dangling from her fingers is a silent indictment.

Busted.

My plan to "borrow" a few of her belongings – a strategic move to ensure her eventual return – seems to have backfired. I just thought if she decided to pack up and leave in a fit of pique, those missing essentials might just bring her back to my doorstep. A small smile tugs at my lips. This is going to be interesting.

"Morning," I offer, schooling my features into a mask of nonchalance. Her silence is deafening. She stalks into the kitchen, hanging the AirPod to my sight.

"This wouldn't happen to be mine, would it?"

"Uh," I drawl.

While I did a stellar job of hiding her laptop charger, toothbrush, that sinful rosy lip gloss she always wears, and a Polaroid pic of her in that ridiculously sexy corset tucked discreetly inside my wallet as a personal treasure– yeah, that was a good move – the AirPod though? Let's just say my execution on that one was... subpar, it wasn't exactly a masterstroke of hidden-item strategy.

Heck, it wasn't even hidden. I just left it on the vanity- I... know... not my brightest move and getting her into my room without thinking about potential evidence lying around wasn't exactly my finest moment, either. But see, Lydia never waltzed into my master bedroom before. Also, last night was chaotic, and frankly shoving a tiny white earbud into a drawer or behind a cologne bottle completely slipped my mind.

Now, piecing things together, it's clear. She must've woken up, glanced at the vanity to check her reflection (and who could blame her?), and boom – there it was, the AirPod, taunting her with my bad planning.

"Looks familiar," I admit, taking another sip of coffee, stalling.

Lydia raises an eyebrow. "Really? Because from where I'm standing, it looks suspiciously like the one I lost after I left the place of a billionaire who apparently doesn't believe in the concept of personal space, much less returning stolen items."

"Stolen is a serious accusation, wouldn't you say?" I tease her, smirking.

"Then enlighten me," she challenges.