Chapter 13：Mia

"I messed up his room," I murmured to myself. I glanced at that king-size bed with the expensive duvet cover of grayish blue and black and felt a delicious shiver pass down my spine. Then I turned my attention to the floor. My ripped clothes were everywhere. I sighed and proceeded to find a pair of jeans and T-shirt that was still intact. No such luck, of course.

I was midway through pulling my ripped T-shirt on when three knocks came at the door. I quickly pulled the rest of the thin gray material down my body and said, "Come in."

If wearing ripped jeans and a shirt without a bra—because that very last one lying on the floor was torn beyond repair and unwearable—was ready, then yes, I was as ready as I could be to face the billionaire my brother owed two million dollars, the man who'd seen me with my naked backside in the air.

I murmured, "Yes," followed by a nod of my head.

"Follow me," she said and turned on her heel, expecting me to trail her like she expected a lower staff member to obey her order to perfection.

The moment Ms. Lane knocked and then opened a door, my heart skipped a beat. When she stepped aside to let me in, I hesitated. I was suddenly shaking, and I knew I had to get a grip on myself. This was what I was here for. To negotiate for my brother's release.

I took a deep breath when Ms. Lane nudged me to hurry up by saying, "He's waiting."

Before my nerves got any worse, I took a step in and then another.

Standing before me was the gorgeous Mr. J. Maxwell. He had his arms folded across his chest and his backside resting slightly on the edge of the desk. He looked relaxed and casual, but the very sight of him took my breath away. It annoyed me that he should have such a strong, inexplicably powerful impression on me.

The moment my eyes met his, a gasp escaped my lips. I felt uncomfortable and was very aware my breasts and nipples were jutting out against the thin material of my ripped shirt. I really did hope he didn't notice.

"Sit," he said, nodding at the chair before him.

I hesitantly did as he commanded. Yes, there was nothing else in his tone but authority. He had that magical aura within him, that self-confidence that had the power to take charge, shout out orders, and give commands. Indeed, people would listen and follow his every word. Even the little beast named Alfie was quiet on the other side of the room, snuggling cozily as it watched me with its beady eyes.

I gazed up at him, not knowing how to proceed. Yes, he'd requested—No!—demanded I be presented here before him, along with his expected two million. Well, all I had was three hundred dollars.

He leaned forward and began. "I was expecting someone much older."

"I'm twenty-two," I said sternly. "I'm old enough. Where's my brother?"

He ignored my demanding question. "Your father allowed you to come here knowing my reputation?"

Reputation? I knew nothing of his reputation. His rhetorical question, however, planted a seed of apprehension within my mind. Of course I'd dreaded coming here and facing him about the two million dollars. But now that he mentioned his reputation, I wondered if I'd be able to walk out of here alive.

However, the sudden change in subject got me angry. This showed in my voice, which was trembling, along with my pissed-off face, red and stern.

"My father died eleven years ago in a car accident, along with my mother. The only person Andy has is me, his older sister."

He raised a brow at me, as if he found my tragic backstory rather bland and uninteresting, like he'd heard that particular story a hundred times before. I'll admit it was rather a common backstory, but when it happens to you, when every possible shit you could imagine got thrown at you, then it wasn't so common anymore.

"Where's my brother?" I asked again, trying very hard to calm myself, trying hard not to jump to the conclusion that this Mr. J. Maxwell had already executed Andy with a bullet to my baby brother's handsome head.

He looked at me long and hard. "I applaud your brother and his friends, Ms. Donovan," he said, easing his arms from their crossed position and resting them casually on the edge of the desk. "They've managed to cheat two million out of me." He leaned forward, his eyes sharp, his face so close to me that I could feel the warmth of his breath on my skin, which both pleased and unsettled me at the same time. "And trust me. I rarely allow anyone to cheat me."

He flashed a dark smile that made me want to run and hide and at the same time made me want to kiss him. It was a stupid desire, of course, and I'd never felt like that toward any man before. I felt like I actually wanted to throw myself at him and let him do exquisite, unspeakable things to me. Things that were frowned upon. Things people didn't talk about outside the bedroom. Things a virgin like me had never experienced.