Page 22 of Protected By My Playboy Billionaire

“Apologies for the interruption, Mr. Morgan.” She pushes the door a little more but stays in place. “I just wanted to remind you of your lunch meeting with Ms. Duchamp.”

Who is Ms. Duchamp? An unfamiliar feeling tugs at me.

“Cancel it.” Adrian glances at her for a split second before looking back at me. Melissa’s still standing in the doorway, probably unsure what to do. Considering her reaction, I would guess Adrian rarely cancels meetings.

“Yes, sir.” Melissa finally nods and closes the door.

“Why did you cancel it?” Not that I’m not relieved he won’t be seeing whoever Ms.Duchamp is, but a little irrational voice tells me it’s because he’s still not done with me.

“Because I asked you a question.” As Adrian’s intense gaze meets mine again, I fight the urge to step back. “And you still haven’t answered.”

“What question?” My voice is a little above a whisper. I mentally go over the whole conversation, trying to find the question he’s referring to.

“The message on your phone.” He points at my phone in my hand and steps towards me. “It didn’t seem like nothing.” His piercing stare is drilling into me as if searching for answers. There’s no harm in telling him, right?

“Okay.” Reluctantly, I retrieve my phone and pull up the message. This time, it’s a photo of me having lunch with Ryan. I hand him the phone, hoping he won’t somehow open my messages with Lilly. His eyes narrow at the sight, a flicker of rage flashing across his features. I see his thumb play across the screen, probably to reveal the previous message stating that the sender’s always watching.

“What is this?” The intensity in his voice reverberates through the room, his anger more than obvious as he absorbs the message's contents.

“I don’t know.” I shrug hesitantly. “They sent the first one this morning.”

His jaw clenches, his fist tightening at his side, the other one clutching my phone as he processes my words.

“Have they threatened you?” He lifts his gaze to mine.

“No, not directly.” I shake my head and gently slide my phone out of his hands. “They just said that they’re watching me.”

He runs a hand down his face. “Do you have any idea who it could be?”

I hesitate before responding. “It could be my ex-boyfriend. He’s been… persistent about wanting to get back together, but I never thought he’d stoop to this.”

“He’s harassing you?” His question comes out in a growl, low and menacing.

“I’m okay.” I don’t think my attempt at reassurance will work, but I try anyway. “He likes to bark but never bites. I’ve dealt with him before. I can handle this.”

“I want you to send me the number he’s texting you from.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Nothing he doesn’t deserve.” He stares me down in a way that tells me I should listen.

“Okay.” I swallow. “But I don’t have your number.” I realize how stupid that sounds. I’ve been living in his home for a few days, and I don’t even have his number.

“You do. I took the liberty of saving it for you.” He points a finger at my pocket. That’s what he was doing with my phone while he had it? He runs a hand through his dark hair. “One more thing. There’s an event I have to attend tonight—”

“That’s okay—”

“I’m not finished.” He raises a hand, cutting me off. “I want you to come with me.”

“Come with you?” My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. As like… his date? Don’t be ridiculous. “To an event?”

“Good to know your ears work fine.” Adrian’s expression remains stoic.

“Why do you want me to come?” He’s silent, so I rephrase my question. “What if I don’t want to come?”

“I wasn’t asking, little duck.” He cocks his head to the side, and I can already feel my cheeks turning pink. This shouldn’t be making me blush.

“But why do you want me to come?” I narrow my eyes at him. Surely, he has other women to take with him. The thought is surprisingly unpleasant. I don’t want him taking anyone else, but that doesn’t mean I want to go with him, either.