The Billionaire And His One Night Stand

Los Angeles, Sebastian

I couldn’t believe it. Our lives had taken an unnerving turn, and now we had a stalker who not only seemed to want to disrupt our lives but also wished us harm. The realization sent shivers down my spine, and a profound sense of unease settled in the pit of my stomach. I couldn’t help but fear for our safety and the safety of our unborn child.

Patrick had forwarded me the picture of the note, and my immediate response was to call him. I was in the middle of an important meeting with an investor, but nothing could take precedence over the well-being of my baby and the mother of my child. I excused myself from the meeting, my mind racing with worry.

“Patrick, what’s going on?” I demanded as soon as he answered the phone. I needed answers, and I needed them urgently.

Patrick proceeded to explain the details of the situation, his voice filled with concern. I, in turn, shared the contents of my own ominous note with him. It was clear that he wanted to gather as much information as possible to get to the bottom of this disturbing mystery.

However, Patrick insisted on seeing the notes in person. It was an understandable precaution, given the sensitivity of the situation. I instructed my courier to deliver my note to him immediately. As I hung up the phone, I felt a sense of helplessness wash over me. I was now back in my office, massaging my temples, desperately trying to stave off a looming headache.

My calendar reminded me of an upcoming meeting in just fifteen minutes, and I hoped fervently that nothing urgent would disrupt it. My responsibilities as a businessman were inextricably intertwined with the responsibilities of impending fatherhood, and I couldn’t afford to let either aspect falter.

Just as I was beginning to regain my composure, my phone rang again, causing my heart to skip a beat. I grabbed it, hoping to see a message from Mia, a source of comfort in these troubled times. However, to my disappointment, it was my father’s name that flashed on the screen.

I sighed deeply before answering. “Yes, father?” I said, my tone laced with a hint of annoyance.

“You cut the meeting short today? What happened?” he inquired, his voice filled with curiosity.

I hesitated. I didn’t want to burden my parents with the news of the stalker just yet. I knew they would be overly concerned and likely offer a lecture, something I wasn’t looking forward to at the moment. “I had other urgent matters to take care of,” I replied, opting for a vague response.

“Other urgent matters?” my father repeated, his tone taking on a mocking edge. “Does that involve the lady you got pregnant, perhaps?”

I clenched my jaw, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. “It doesn’t matter, father,” I retorted, trying to maintain my composure. “The fact is it was important.”

My father scoffed dismissively, his disapproval evident even over the phone. “That girl is distracting you,” he remarked with a hint of disappointment. “I’ve known you as a ruthless businessman, and now you’re like a lost puppy, always involved in drama.”

I closed my eyes briefly, struggling to contain my frustration. This was not the time for a lecture on my life choices. My focus needed to be on protecting Mia and our unborn child from the lurking danger of the stalker. But explaining that to my father was a conversation I wasn’t prepared to have just yet.

“I have to go now, my meeting starts soon,” I said to my father, the frustration from our conversation still lingering in my voice.

“Well, I’m waiting for you to bring that girl home as soon as possible,” my father responded, his tone firm and unwavering.

“Yes, father,” I replied, a sense of obligation weighing on me. With that, I put down the phone, eager to put the conversation behind me. There were pressing matters at hand that demanded my attention.

Just then, my diligent assistant entered my office, her presence a reminder that my responsibilities as a businessman were far from over. She informed me that the board members were already waiting for me in the conference room. I nodded, acknowledging her message, and took a moment to adjust my tie and ruffle my hair into some semblance of order before heading to the meeting.

The conference room felt sterile and imposing, the long table lined with stern faces. As the meeting droned on, I found it increasingly difficult to stay engaged. The discussions were tedious, and my thoughts kept drifting back to the unsettling situation with the stalker.

Luckily, there was coffee on hand to keep me awake, and I took advantage of the caffeine to maintain my focus. The minutes dragged on, and I counted the seconds until the meeting would finally come to an end.Content from NôvelDr(a)ma.Org.

When it did, and I was free from the confines of the conference room, one of the board members approached me. His expression was one of genuine concern as he addressed the situation that had recently unfolded in my personal life.

“I’ve seen you the past few days on TV and online,” he began, his voice filled with sympathy. “I hope it won’t affect your career.”

I appreciated his kind words and the genuine concern he displayed. I shook my head, trying to reassure him. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it all handled,” I assured him, although the weight of the situation was far from lifted.

He studied me for a moment before nodding. “I hope so,” he said, clearly hoping for the best.

With the conversation concluded, I walked out of the conference room and headed towards the car waiting to take me home. I yearned for a long, hot shower and some much-needed rest. The relentless demands of my life, both personal and professional, had taken a toll on me, and I needed a moment of respite.

As I sat in the backseat of the car, I instructed the driver to take me home. The anticipation of relaxation and the comfort of my own space drew me closer to the familiarity of home.

When I arrived at my apartment, exhaustion weighed heavily on my shoulders. I reached for my keys, intent on a swift entry, but as I approached the door, I realized something was amiss. My heart sank as I noticed that the door was unlocked.

I frowned, a surge of unease washing over me. Hadn’t I locked the door securely before I left earlier in the day? The possibility of an intruder sent a shiver down my spine. With caution, I slowly pushed the door open, my senses on high alert.

As the door creaked open, my eyes widened in alarm, and anger began to bubble within me. The scene that unfolded before me was one I had not anticipated, and it filled me with a mix of fury and dread.

My heart raced as I stepped into my living room, and my worst fears were confirmed. The sight before me was a scene of absolute chaos. My whole living room was a mess, a nightmarish tableau of destruction. Everything seemed to be in disarray, and the room bore the scars of a violent intrusion.

Furniture lay in ruins, toppled over and broken into pieces. The once pristine glass coffee table was now shattered into countless shards that littered the ground like a malevolent mosaic. The air was thick with tension and the acrid smell of destruction.

My gaze fell upon my once-comfortable couch, now defiled by black and brown stains that marred its fabric. The implications of those stains were too unsettling to ponder, and a nauseating odor permeated the room, a sickening combination of filth and decay.

It felt as if someone had taken their time to wreak havoc in my living space, their destructive frenzy leaving behind a chilling message. The realization that an intruder had not only violated my home but had also defiled it in such a disturbing manner sent shivers down my spine.

What the fuck was happening?!