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I hate how much I want her to.

Thirty days with her could prove impossible.

Thirty days with her could be the stupidest decision I've made in years.

Thirty days might give her more opportunity to uncover whatever I'm trying to keep her away from.

And judging by my reaction to a woman I've known less than twenty-four hours, thirty days might be enough to fuck up something considerably more important than my carefully constructed plan.

Control.

I straighten my cuffs.

Slow my breathing.

By the time I turn toward the door, I'm Mitchell Knight again.

Billionaire.

CEO.

The man who owns this building and fourteen more like it.

The man who controls every variable in the room.

Almost.

“Send her in.”

“Yes, sir.”

The line clicks off.

I look at the closed door.

And wait.

For Layla Hawthorne.

For her answer.

For the first consequence of inviting this woman into my life.

Chapter 6

Layla

The second I get back to the crappy little apartment I've been renting for the past year, I kick off my murderous heels, drop my bag on the counter, and call my editor. At two o'clock in the morning.

Catherine is going to kill me.

But I do it anyway because this can’t wait. She answers on the fourth ring.

“Girl? It is two o'clock in the damn morning.”

“Cat? You will never guess what happened.”

There's a rustle on the other end of the phone. Then silence. Followed by a gasp.