A Secretive Deal with My Billionaire Boss novel Chapter 275

Chapter 275

Madison

“We’ll keep it private for now.” A small smile played on his lips. “You drive a hard bargain, Ms. Harper.”

Relief washed over me. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” He took another step closer, his voice dropping to that low register that always sent shivers down my spine. “I might want something in return.”

I raised an eyebrow, fighting to keep my expression neutral despite the heat blooming in my chest. “That’s not how negotiations work, Mr. Knight.”

“No?” His smile turned wolfish. “I seem to recall several very successful negotiations in this very office that ended quite… satisfactorily for both parties.”

My cheeks warmed at the memories his words evoked. “That was different.”

“Was it?” He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers lingered against my skin. “How so?

I stepped back, needing space to think clearly. “We’re discussing the terms of our arrangement. It’s business.”

“Maddie, nothing about us has ever been just business.”

The nickname made my heart skip.

“Regardless,” I said, gathering my composure, “I appreciate you respecting my wishes on this.”

He nodded, his expression softening. “Your career is important to you. I understand that.”

“It is.” I hesitated, then added, “Almost as important as my mother’s health.”

“Almost?” He quirked an eyebrow.

“Nothing’s more important than her getting better.”

Alexander’s expression softened briefly. “Take care of your mother. That should be your priority right now.”

“I will,” I replied, surprised by the genuine concern in his voice.

He moved back to his desk, straightening some papers. “Do you need anything? Additional funds for her care or home accommodations?”

I shook my head. “I can manage. Your help with the hospital bills is more than enough.”

“The offer stands,” he said, his tone making it clear this wasn’t just empty courtesy. “Day or night.”

“Thank you, Mr. Knight.” I gathered my purse, ready to leave.

“I’ll drive you home,” he announced, already reaching for his jacket.

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“That’s not necessary-

“It wasn’t a question.” He slipped his jacket on with practiced ease. “It’s late and it’s raining.”

I glanced out the window, noticing the raindrops now streaking down the glass. I’d forgotten my umbrella again. “Alright. Thank you.”

The ride to my apartment was mostly silent. Alexander focused on navigating through the rain–slicked streets while I watched the city lights blur through the wet windows. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable; it felt almost companionable as if we’d done this a hundred times before.

When he pulled up outside my building, I expected him to simply drop me off. Instead, he put the car in park and turned to face me.

“Tell your mother I said hello,” he said, his voice low.

“I will.” I hesitated, my hand on the door handle. “She liked you, you know.”

A small smile played on his lips. “I have that effect on mothers.”

“Modest as always.”

“Good night, Maddie.” The way he said my nickname sent a familiar warmth through my chest.

“Good night, Alexander.”

I hurried through the rain to my building’s entrance, feeling his eyes on me until I disappeared inside. The elevator ride up gave me a moment to compose myself, to push away thoughts of Alexander’s rare moments of tenderness that always caught me off guard.

The apartment was warm and smelled like garlic when I walked in. Mom was sprawled on the couch, engrossed in what looked like a reality dating show.

“I’m home,” I called, hanging my damp coat by the door.

“In here!” Mom replied, not taking her eyes off the screen. “You won’t believe what this fool just did. He brought the same necklace for both of his dates!”

I kicked off my heels and padded over to the couch. “Living dangerously.”

“Amateur mistake,” she scoffed, finally looking up at me. “How was work? Did you impress your handsome boss today?”

“Work was normal,” I said, collapsing onto the couch beside her. “Just meetings and spreadsheets and more meetings.” I sniffed the air. “Did you cook?”

Mom turned down the volume on the TV and gave me a mischievous smile. “You haven’t cooked anything for Junch, so I cooked myself.”

I sat bolt upright. “What? Mom, you’re supposed to be resting! Dr. Williams specifically said—”

“Oh please, I’m not an invalid.” She waved her hand dismissively. “It was just some pasta. The sauce came from

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a jar.”

“Still!” I ran my fingers through my hair, feeling the neat bun I’d maintained all day coming undone. “You could have called me. I would have ordered something.”

“And pay twenty dollars for a sandwich? I don’t think so.” She patted my knee. “Besides, I was bored. Daytime television is a wasteland.”

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