Page 40 of Money Reigns

But the pit in my stomach already has.

Something isn’t right.

I push myself off the couch, exhaustion dragging at my bones.

Maybe a shower. Maybe just pajamas and lights out.

In my bedroom, I pause.

Something feels…off.

The faintest trace of scent lingers in the air, smoky, expensive, masculine.

But it’sfamiliar.

My pulse spikes.

Warren.

I shake my head. No. That’s insane.

I tug at my blouse and sniff. It’s probably his cologne lingering to my clothes.

I cross to the nightstand to plug in my phone and freeze again. The picture frame, my brothers, arms slung over my shoulders at my graduation, lies face down.

I don’t remember knocking it over.

A chill crawls up my spine.

I right the frame carefully, staring at our frozen smiles, before forcing a breath past the lump in my throat. “You’re losing it, Olivia,” I mutter under my breath.“Losing it.”

I move quickly after that, shed my clothes, shower, slip into cotton pajamas, brush my teeth with shaky hands. The routines help.

Anchor me.

By the time I crawl into bed, I tell myself I’m just overtired. Stressed. That my imagination is playing tricks on me.

Still… the expensive scent clings to the room.

And I leave the lamp on when I finally close my eyes.

***

Warren isn’t here yet. Which is…odd.

I glance at the clock on my monitor.

8 A.M. Sharp.

For a man who rules this building like a kingdom, his absence feels wrong.

His door stays closed. My inbox pings with a single email.

No greeting. No signature. Just a bulleted list of tasks.

I roll my eyes, but dive in. It’s easier to breathe without his stare burning through me.

Easier to focus when I’m not hyper-aware of every flick of his attention.