Giamini

Drego killed his wife when he found out she betrayed him and had caused the accident that killed his parents. He shot her in his mansion, and ever since, no one was allowed into his home. He lived with the guilt for years until Nichole came into his life. She worked for him for four years but he doesn’t even see her. Nichole pined for him for four years and after she changed herself and he still didn’t notice her, she goes off on him and tells him she loves him and quits. 

When Drego told his friends what happened, everyone tells him that they all knew she liked him. He was the only oblivious one. They tell him to get her back, cause she’s a competent employee and she’s been going out of her way to help him. Drego soon begins to see Nichole in a different light after a series of events. And when she gets shot by his dead wife’s brothers while they were trying to harm him, he takes Nichole to his haunted house to care for her. Unfortunately, things end badly and Nichole leaves the house after a week.

Drego soon realizes he can’t live without her, but Nichole has given up. He may not be able to get her back. 

The Billionaire’s haunted house

"you weren't at the office all day. You're lying." 


I looked at Nichole, wondering if she knew where I'd been all day. I didn't mean to lie. But when I saw her standing there in her flimsy night gown, a transparent kimono coverall over her body, her thighs bare, the wind doing a fine job kissing her frame; something I'd been thinking of a lot today, the light shining on her making her the only thing I could see, I panicked at the kind of thoughts that came to my mind. 


I'd come to the realization that I wanted Nichole. And I accepted it. I had lust for her. But that was the extent of my feelings for her. I liked her, but I wasn't sure I liked her enough to start something serious like she wanted, or used to want… 


My body was barely under my control. It wanted to finish what we almost started the night we were attacked. Not the conversation, but our lips meeting and maybe more. 


Chapter eighteen