All Chapters of OWNED BY FOUR BILLIONAIRES : Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

Ari’s pov I pushed through the glass doors of Kane enterprise and the air conditioning hit me like a slap. Marble floors. Gold trim. A reception desk big enough for a car. My heels clicked too loudly. Too poor. The receptionist didn’t look up at first. When she did, her nose scrunched like she’d smelled something sour. She took in my pencil skirt, the shirt I’d borrowed from my aunt that was missing two buttons, and the Target blazer trying to pretend it was designer. “Hi,” I said. Voice steady. Fake it. “I have a meeting scheduled with Mr. Kane.” Her manicured nail tapped the keyboard once. Twice. Then she gave me the same once-over that the guard at the door had. Slow. Thorough. Like I was a call girl who’d wandered into the wrong lobby. “Mr. Kane didn’t inform me about any meeting,” she said. Smile sweet, eyes sharp. “Are you sure you have the right building, dear?” Dear. My jaw tightened. The missing buttons on my s

Aria’s POV 1... 2... 3... I counted the floors ticking by, my thumb digging into the strap of my duffel bag. I can’t believe I actually took this job. No. Not a job. A cage with a $50M lock. The elevator dinged. Halfway there. My stomach was already turning I couldn’t wait to get to the 30th floor. Finally. 30. The doors slid open and I stepped out on shaky legs. The hallway hit me first. Marble. Gold trim. Ceiling so high I felt like an ant. This wasn’t a floor. It was a palace. What the hell did their apartment look like? I checked the address on my phone. Again. 30B. I’d checked it a thousand times before I even got in the cab. A thousand times in the lobby. And I was still convinced I had the wrong place. Because girls like me don’t end up in places like this. Unless they’re in trouble. I raised my hand. It shook. I rang the doorbell. One second. Two. The door ripped open so fast I ju

Aria’s POV I stood outside the study door. Hand on the knob. Frozen. Button-down. Trousers. Hair in a knot that took three tries. I was dressed. Presentable. I was also twelve minutes late. My stomach twisted. He was going to be so pissed. I could still feel his eyes from this morning. The way he’d looked away so fast. The way he’d said sorry like an insult. Breathe. It’s just a room. He’s just a man. I pushed the door open before I could talk myself out of it. Damian sat behind a desk bigger than my old apartment. Phone to his ear, face carved from stone. On the wall, a video call. An older man in a suit. Gray hair. Boardroom eyes. “—That will be all for today, Mr. Kane,” the man said. Voice clipped. Respectful. Afraid. Damian nodded and ended the call with one tap. Silence slammed back into the room. Then his gaze lifted. And landed on me. I stared back at him too stunned to speak. “

Aria’s POV What am I going to do? Shit. Damian is going to lose it. I stare at the grease stain blooming across clause four of the merger addendum. Black ink, now smeared. How do I explain this? Sorry, your brother dripped grease on the new merger deal? I check my watch. Fifty-two minutes until the board meeting. Okay. Breathe. Reprint. I shove out of my office, eyes locked on the paper, scanning the stain like it might disappear if I glare hard enough. I slam into something broad. Solid. A wall that smells like cedar and ink. The file slips and the papers scatter everywhere. My stomach drops. I look up. Noah. His pale eyes track me with some intrigue. He doesn’t bend down to help. “I’m so sorry,” I blurt, dropping to my knees to snatch the papers. “I was in a hurry—” He steps closer and I freeze. I think he’ll leave it at that. Noah Reyes usually does. But he doesn’t move.

Damian’s POV I’m pacing. Four steps to the window. Four steps back. The glass of whiskey on my desk is untouched. The merger file sits in my hands like a prop. I’ve read it three times already, but haven’t absorbed a word. I pick up the whiskey, needing something to do with my hands. And then I hear a knock. “Come in.” I already know it’s her. No one in this house knocks. The door opens. Aria steps inside. Hair down, in Soft shirt and old Pants that are too casual for a boardroom and too familiar for my bedroom. I force my eyes back to the file. If I look too long, she’ll see it. “Sir, what would you like me to do?” Her voice is careful, keeping it Professional. It should cool me down. But It doesn’t. Because do is a dangerous word when she’s standing in my room at night and I’ve been thinking about her thigh under my hand for the last hour. This was a mistake. I need s