Billionaire's Bed | ENGLISH - FREE

10

"Don't scare me, Lydia. Please."

She's flushed. She seems to want to breathe at a normal rate, but I think I'm not the only one who has an interest in exploding right now or wanting to run away. The surprises, one after another and another and another, already begin to leave me exhausted that my heart rate does not think it can overcome or make me come out of the tense attempts unscathed.

She speaks with an additional effort:

"You should just watch. I don't know if you should be scared."

Why are those her words? Far from giving me peace of mind, it does nothing more than fasten it's finger on the ALERT button that bellows right now in my brain. We continue at full speed down the stairs from the office to the workshop until we see that the entrance gate is wide open.

"What's wrong?" I murmur.

"I tried to stop them, but they had the keys provided by the 'owner'."

"What!? I am the owner of this place!"

I try to go like a fury to the entrance, however we are forced to go back when we see that a truck enters reversing with furniture, flowers and elements of decoration?

"Iggi!" Lydia calls me, pushing me by the arm to the side forcing me to step aside as I watch as they enter with the truck and begin to unload things. One of the guys who appears to be the cadet in charge hands me a spreadsheet and a pen.

"Sign here," he says.

"Hey Nerd! Where are they supposed to take those things? It's not here."

He looks at the spreadsheet again.

"Yes, it's here."

And the guys start unloading things. They are beautiful furniture, paint pots, remodeling elements that are around different shades of coral.

My favorite.

And in addition, there are also white roses spread throughout elegant interior flowerpots sautéed by others red and some almost fuchsia.

"Good heavens," Lydia mumbles, looking at the beautiful things they bring and of the highest level, but it scares me a little.

Because accepting this is conceding that he is finally right and ends up believing that hi is much more than the CEO of this place. Well, he has bought sixty percent, and the money he has put in already far exceeds the initial investment to open the doors of the workshop on any given day, which implies that technically today he is more of an owner than I am despite having been the one who made the efforts initials to open the doors or create the web store.

It hurts me to think how much it cost me, only for this guy to come along who, with a snap of his fingers, already seems to know exactly what to do and it's all about large sums of money. I know that all this is to increase income by improving working conditions, as much as it pains my heart to admit it.

But why? Why does he do this? Also adding that he seems to know exactly each one of my tastes and interests.

"Miss," the cadet insists. "Will you sign?"