A Secretive Deal with My Billionaire Boss novel Chapter 199

Chapter 199

Alexander

The name hit me like a physical blow, but I kept my face carefully neutral. “Katherine has nothing to do with this.”

“Bullshit.” Anthony set his glass down. “You haven’t had a serious relationship since she left. Just an endless parade of one–night stands and brief flings.‘

“I’m not interested in a relationship right now,” I said firmly. “With anyone.”

“So you’re just going to keep fucking random women until what? Katherine magically reappears?” Anthony pressed.

I clenched my jaw. “I told you, Katherine has nothing to do with this.”

“Then why not try something real for once?” Anthony challenged. “You can’t keep waiting for her, Alex. She’s not coming back.”

“I’m not waiting for anyone,” I snapped, my patience wearing thin.

“Aren’t you?” Anthony’s voice softened slightly. “It’s been years, man. And even if she did come back, she clearly doesn’t care about you. She left without a word.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, my voice dangerously low.

Lyla cleared her throat, clearly sensing the tension. “Anthony is trying to say that life’s too short for casual hookups that don’t lead anywhere. Trust me, I’ve been there.”

“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow, grateful for the slight change in subject.

“Before Anthony,” she explained, “I was the queen of casual. Different guy every weekend, no strings attached.” She took a sip of her drink. “It was fun for a while, but eventually felt empty.”

“Some people prefer it that way,” I pointed out.

“Sure, until they don’t.” Lyla shrugged. “One day you wake up and realize you’re forty, alone, and the only person who knows how you take your coffee is the barista at Starbucks.”

Anthony nodded sagely. “Exactly. And then you’ll regret all those years you wasted on meaningless sex when you could have been building something real.”

I laughed, the sound sharp and dismissive. “Since when did you become a relationship guru? You were the biggest manwhore I knew in college.”

“People grow up.” Anthony’s voice held no judgment, just a calm certainty that was somehow more

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irritating. “I did. Leo’s getting there. You’re the only one still playing the same games from ten years ago.”

“I’m not playing games,” I insisted. “I’m living my life the way I want to.”

“Are you?” Anthony challenged. “Or are you just avoiding anything that might make you vulnerable again?”

I stood up abruptly, moving to the bar to refill my drink. “You’re reading too much into this. Ms. Harper and I have an arrangement that works for both of us. End of story.”

“An arrangement,” Anthony repeated, exchanging a look with Lyla. “Sounds romantic.”

“It’s not supposed to be romantic,” I said, pouring another two fingers of whiskey. “That’s the point.

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“The point is you’re using her as a distraction,” Anthony said bluntly. “Just like all the others.”

I turned to face him, glass in hand. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.‘

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“Don’t I?” Anthony leaned back, studying me. “Let me guess. The sex is great, she’s available whenever you want her, and best of all, there’s no emotional investment required.”

“You’re oversimplifying.”

“Am I?” Anthony challenged. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you’re not just using her as another warm body to keep the loneliness at bay.”

I returned to my seat, deliberately casual. “Not everyone wants what you have, Anthony. Some of us prefer freedom.”

“Freedom?” Anthony snorted. “Is that what you call it? Seems more like fear to me.”

“I’m not afraid of anything,” I said coldly.

“Except commitment,” Anthony shot back. “Except letting someone get close enough to see the real you. Except for risking your heart again after Katherine broke it.”

“That’s enough,” I warned, my voice dropping to a dangerous register.

Lyla placed a hand on Anthony’s arm, a silent signal to back off. “What Anthony means is that we care about you, Alex. We want to see you happy.”

“I am happy,” I insisted, though the words sounded hollow even to my ears.

“Are you?” Lyla asked gently. “Because you look like a man who’s running from something.”

I drained my glass, welcoming the burn. “I’m not running from anything. I’m exactly where I want

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to be.”

“With your assistant?” Anthony pressed. “Is that really what you want? Or is she just convenient?”

The question hit harder than I expected. Was Madison just convenient? The memory of her body against mine, her soft moans in my ear, the way she looked at me with those trusting eyes–it felt like more than convenience. But what exactly it was, I couldn’t say.

“It’s complicated,” I finally said.

Anthony’s expression softened slightly. “Life usually is. But here’s some free advice from your oldest friend: stop hiding behind these casual arrangements. Take a risk for once.”

“On what?” I asked, genuinely curious despite my irritation.

“On something real,” Anthony said simply. “On someone who could actually matter. The point is to stop treating relationships like business transactions with an expiration date.”

“Some things aren’t meant to last,” I pointed out.

“And some things are,” Lyla countered. “But you’ll never know if you don’t give them a chance.”

I leaned back in my chair, considering their words. The whiskey had softened the edges of my irritation, leaving behind a contemplative mood.

“Look,” Anthony said, his voice gentler than before. “I’m not saying you need to propose to the next woman you sleep with. Just… maybe consider the possibility that there’s more to life than casual sex and corporate takeovers.”

“Like what?”

“Like waking up next to someone who actually knows you,” Anthony said. “Like having someone to come home to who cares about your day. Like building a life with someone instead of just sharing a bed for a night.”

“That sounds suspiciously like marriage,” I said dryly.

“It doesn’t have to be,” Lyla interjected. “But wouldn’t it be nice to have someone in your Someone who’s there for more than just the good times?”

corner?

I thought of Madison–how she’d called Dr. Peterson when she found me drugged, how she worked tirelessly to keep my schedule running smoothly, how her eyes lit up when I praised her work. There was something there, something beyond the physical attraction that had initially drawn me to her. (1)

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