In love with my ex's dad my billionaire boss

In love with my ex's dad my billionaire boss Sallie Steadman Copyright Copyright © 2023 by Sallie Steadman All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. Contents 1. Chapter 1 2. Chapter 2 3. Chapter 3 4. Chapter 4 5. Chapter 5 6. Chapter 6 7. Chapter 7 8. Chapter 8 9. Chapter 9 10. Chapter 10 11. Chapter 11 12. Chapter 12 13. Chapter 13 14. Chapter 14 15. Chapter 15 16. Chapter 16 17. Chapter 17 18. Chapter 18 19. Chapter 19 20. Chapter 20 21. Chapter 21 22. Chapter 22 23. Chapter 23 Chapter 1 C hapter One – Willa I leaned on the stack of old copies of the newspaper and closed my eyes. Okay, I really needed to get some sleep. I was wiped, and the last thing I wanted was to go to work tomorrow, unable to keep my eyes open. I checked that I hadn’t gotten any newsprint on my hands and got to my feet, stretching my arms over my head, hearing a crack in my spine. The new apartment still desperately needed some decoration, but I would get to that when I had the time. After all, I had only arrived yesterday and spent all my time focused on preparing for the first day of my internship at the Winkleman Oracle. I took a quick shower, then changed into the grungy old tee I used for sleeping and climbed into bed. The mattress still felt a little stiff – it would be a while before I was totally comfortable here, and that was okay. I had a few months to get used to it. Even if I felt like my hometown should have already been more inviting than this. I stared at the ceiling, my mind rushing with the thought of everything I might do tomorrow for my first day. I knew it would be intense, but that was exactly why I wanted the job. Everyone else in my Master’s program had been talking about how they would relax once they were done, but I was focused on how I could turn this momentum into something unstoppable. I needed to prove to myself – and everyone else – that I was capable of taking on this demanding career now that I was out in the real world and not behind my desk, finishing my thesis. Six years. Six years of studying journalism and it had brought me here to my first real job. I’ve had a few internships and placements before, but they had been for a week or so, not months at a time, and this could actually turn into a permanent position. Not could – would. I had been telling myself that ever since I had gotten the offer. When I put in my application, I hadn’t actually expected them to get back to me. Not when I was so fresh in the field. And, you know, if I could have avoided coming back to this place, I would have. But when I saw they were looking for an intern, I knew there was no way I could miss out on the chance to apply, even just to say I had. But Winkleman? There was a reason I had put as much distance between myself and my hometown as I possibly could, and it wasn’t because I was desperate to get back. It had been years since I had even stepped foot in this place, and I had hoped I would never have to return there again. Not after him. Not after what he did to me. I knew it pissed off my parents that I was absent most of the time, but how could they expect me to just stay after what had happened? There was no way I could come back to this place without being struck with the harsh reality of what had happened — what he had done, and I didn’t want to drag myself through it again. Anthony. Anthony Marshall. Just thinking about him was enough to send a cold shiver down my spine. I wasn’t sure I had ever hated anyone the way I hated him, but at one point in my life, I had been sure I loved him. How the hell did that work? Because I had been young. Because I had been a teenager in a small town without many other prospects to speak of, and when the rich kid started showing interest in me, I was flattered. I came from a family that had always struggled with cash, but him — no, he didn’t even have to think twice about it. He could take me out, he could show me a good time, and I could relax and have fun. I could be a part of his world in a way I had never imagined I would be able to. I had let it get the better of me. I could see that now. Looking back, there had been warning signs from the start – the way he would tease me about not being able to afford the very best of everything, how he would expect me to treat him a certain way after he had paid for a date. He was just a couple of years older than me, but it felt like he had dropped in from another planet entirely. I just wanted to stay in his good graces, so I went along with it, fearful of losing out on him if I didn’t do exactly what he wanted. And he knew that. He knew it. That was why he’d been able to keep me for so long because he’d played me like a damn fiddle. He’d used me and he’d hurt me and he’d known I would take it because I was too young and too stupid and too inexperienced to know any better. I