She Was Never Just the Billionaire’s Wife (Natasha and Chase) novel Chapter 107

(Jeffrey)

I tap the right arrow key on my keyboard and the image on the monitor shifts to the next high-resolution file.

I zoom in on Chase Warren’s hand.

It’s splayed wide and heavy across Natasha’s lower back.

The midnight blue silk of her dress looks thin enough to tear.

My jaw locks.

Chase is looking at the camera, completely ignoring the goddess in his arms.

He’s treating her like a corporate asset, the way he always has.

Like a shiny hood ornament he brought out to distract his board of directors.

He doesn’t even see the tension in her.

He doesn’t care that her shoulders are rigid, or that she looks like she wants to be anywhere else.

He just grips her tighter, staking a claim on something he hasn’t earned and doesn’t understand.

It’s the sheer, stupid arrogance of it that makes my skin crawl.

I will take much better care of Natasha once she’s mine.

I close the photo viewer.

I’m not a man who loses. And I don’t mind being a little devious when necessary.

Punishing Chase for his multitude of sins isn’t wrong. I’m simply giving karma a helping hand.

I didn’t build a tech empire from a garage server by backing down when someone with old money stood in my way.

I look at systems, I find the flaws, and I exploit them.

Chase Warren is a flaw disguised as a CEO.

And he’s currently ruining the smartest woman I’ve ever met.

I fell in love with Natasha's brain first. That’s how I know I’m the right man for her.

The fact that she’s smoking hot now is a bonus, it was never the main attraction.

I open the folder on my desktop that contains the daily reports from the private investigator I put on retainer three weeks ago.

I didn't want to resort to tailing her, but she left me no choice.

I like Natasha.

I respect her.

But she’s in the middle of a messy divorce, and then she went and moved back in with Chase.

It may only be part-time, but she’s still sleeping in that apartment with him.

She’s booksmart, not emotionally intelligent.

When she’s mine, I’ll steer her clear of these landmines. Until then I have to keep an eye on her from a distance.

I scroll through the latest update.

The timeline is infuriatingly repetitive.

She leaves the Stein M&A offices.

She drives to the pediatric clinic.

She drives to the luxury high-rise near St. Jude’s.

She stays the night.

I lean back in my chair, staring at the sterile lines of text.

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