A Secretive Deal with My Billionaire Boss novel Chapter 332

Chapter 332

Madison

I was drowning.

Katherine stood above me, her crimson dress billowing like a cloud of blood in the murky water. She pressed down on my shoulders, her manicured nails digging into my skin as I thrashed beneath the surface. Her face remained serene, almost bored, as she watched me struggle.

“You’re nothing to him,” she said, her voice somehow crystal clear underwater. “Just a placeholder. A warm body until I returned.”

I tried to scream, but water rushed into my lungs. Alexander appeared behind Katherine, placing his hands on her shoulders. He looked down at me with cold indifference.

“It was always Katherine,” he said. “You knew that.”

The water turned redder and thicker, filling my nose and throat as I fought against Katherine’s grip. She smiled, pressing harder…

A distant ringing sound cut through the nightmare. I gasped, flailing against my tangled sheets, heart pounding as I surfaced from sleep.

The ringing continued. Not drowning. Just my phone.

I groaned, fumbling blindly across my nightstand. The sound stopped before I found my phone. Blessed silence returned, and I burrowed back into my pillow, the nightmare’s grip slowly loosening.

Then it started again.

“Seriously?” I muttered, cracking one eye open. I grabbed my phone and squinted at the screen. Hazel’s grinning face filled the display.

I swiped to answer. “Hello?” My voice came out as a gravelly croak.

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!” Hazel’s cheerful voice blasted through the speaker. “You sound like death. Late night?”

I rolled onto my back, pushing hair from my face. “Why are you calling so early?”

“Early? It’s 8 AM, workaholic. Did I interrupt your beauty sleep after a wild night with Mr. Billionaire? Details, please, and don’t spare the kinky parts!”

“Nothing like that,” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes. “Just tired from the gala. Why are you even awake?”

“Some of us have social lives,” Hazel said. “My office crew is heading to Rockaway Beach today. Perfect weather for it. You should join us.”

I glanced toward my window, where sunlight peeked through the curtains. “Can’t. Work stuff.”

“Work stuff?” Hazel repeated incredulously. “Madison, it’s Sunday. If Alexander Knight makes you work on

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Chapter 332

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Sundays, he’s an even bigger asshole than the tabloids suggest.”

I sat up straight. “Sunday? Are you sure?”

“Did you actually forget what day it is? Girl, you need this beach day more than I thought.” Hazel’s laugh filled my ear. “Unless you’ve got bed plans with Alexander? In which case, I reluctantly support your decision to get laid instead of getting tan.”

I glanced at my phone calendar. It was indeed Sunday. The relief that washed over me was embarrassingly

intense.

“No, no plans with Alexander,” I said, now fully awake. “Beach sounds… actually really nice.”

“Wait, seriously? You’re saying yes?” Hazel sounded genuinely shocked. “No ‘I need to review quarterlies‘ or ‘ The Manhattan project needs my attention‘?”

“Don’t sound so surprised. I can be spontaneous.”

“Since when?” she snorted.

“Since right now, apparently.” I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. “When are you leaving?”

“An hour. Can you be ready? We’re meeting at my place.”

I considered the pile of laundry I needed to do, the emails I should check, the preparation for tomorrow’s meeting…

“I’ll be there,” I said, surprising myself.

“Holy shit, who are you and what have you done with Madison Harper?” Hazel gasped dramatically. “Alexander must be giving you some mind–blowing orgasms to cause this personality change.”

“Goodbye, Hazel,” I said firmly.

“Wear that blue bikini! The one that makes your boobs look-”

I hung up, tossing my phone onto the bed. A beach day. When was the last time I’d done something so… normal? So unrelated to work or Alexander or my mother’s health?

I couldn’t remember.

In the bathroom, I splashed water on my face, the nightmare’s images still clinging to the edges of my consciousness: Katherine’s cold smile, Alexander’s indifference, and the feeling of drowning.

“Just a dream,” I told my reflection. But the anxiety lingered, a cold knot in my stomach.

I checked my phone again. There were no messages from Alexander, no missed calls, and nothing since he dropped me off last night.

Which was fine. Absolutely fine. We were colleagues now. Professional. I didn’t need good morning texts or calls checking in. That wasn’t our relationship anymore.

If it ever had been.

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I rifled through my dresser, looking for my swimwear. The blue bikini Hazel mentioned was buried under winter sweaters, forgotten since my last beach day… when? Last summer? The summer before?

As I pulled it out, my phone chimed with a text from Hazel:

Don’t you dare back out! I can FEEL you overthinking from here.

I smiled despite myself, texting back: Looking for sunscreen, bossy.

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