My Boss Made Me Sext Her Billionaire Fiancé Chapter 10
Not Nina
Xander kicks Hunter aside like garbage.
“Phone. Now.”
Hunter tries to hide my phone behind his back. Something in Xander’s eyes makes him hand it over anyway.
Xander looks at the screen.
His own contact photo. His own username.
The messages he just sent — sitting right there in my phone.
His face goes white.
He swipes fast. My real account. My chat with Nina. He scrolls up. Up. Up.
Errands. Wire transfers. Then—
Nina: “Here’s the login and password. Don’t screw this up.”
Nina: “Wire: $5,000”
Nina: “Play nice and Grandma’s meds are covered.”
Me, minutes later: “Okay.”
Every question he ever had — answered in three seconds.
Why Nina forgot his shellfish allergy.
Why his gift ended up in my purse.
Why my phone rang when he called *hers*.
The whole VIP room goes dead quiet.
Xander looks down at me.
I’m slumped on the couch. Whiskey-soaked. Fever burning. Barely conscious.
Panic hits him like a truck.
He reaches for me — shaking hands, careful, like I’m made of glass.
My eyes flutter. I don’t see him. I just feel a hand on me and flinch away, sobbing under my breath:
“Please… please just let me go…”
Xander stops breathing.
—
I wake up in a hospital room.
White ceiling. IV drip. And Xander, sitting by the bed. Cuffs rolled up. Eyes red like he hasn’t slept.
He holds a cup of water to my lips. His voice is wrecked.
“You’re up. Drink something?”
I turn my head away. Reach for the cup myself.
He goes still. Just for a second.
I check both my phones. Nothing looks off. Nina wired me the fifty grand like she promised. Her text says: “He’s talking to me again. Here’s your money. We’re done.”
Weird. Too smooth.
But Nina and Xander both act like nothing happened. So I let it go.
He must’ve saved me for Nina’s sake.
Two days later, I’m discharged.
I text Nina one line: “I quit.”
She replies with a thumbs-up. Doesn’t fight me. Doesn’t ask why.
I hand over the burner phone. She takes it and disappears.
Just like that, three years of my life close a door.
The doctor tells me my stomach’s a mess. “Eat on time. No skipping meals. Or you’ll be back in here.”
I nod. I mean it.
Grandma’s surgery money is covered somehow — I don’t ask questions. I take a light shift at a candy store to keep money coming in, but no more double shifts. No more bars.
Life gets quiet. Weirdly quiet.
Two weeks later, a Saturday. My coworker calls in sick and I cover her whole shift. Weekend rush. My feet are killing me.
By nine at night, the store finally empties out. I haven’t eaten all day. I’m packing up when the bell over the door jingles.
Xander walks in.
Three days since I last saw him.
He walks up to the counter and sets down a thermos.
I stay calm.
“I don’t work for Nina anymore. Take it to her yourself.”
He swallows. Voice low.
“…It’s for you.”
I blink at him.
Wait. Nina didn’t want it, so he’s dumping her leftovers on me?
I push it back across the counter. Polite. Distant.
“Thanks. I’m good.”
—