Chapter 2

Celeste stared at the message on her screen, her pulse hammering in her ears. You'll change your mind. I'll make sure of it. She should have blocked the number. She should have ignored him. But instead, she found herself rereading the text, feeling something dangerously close to intrigue mingled with irritation.

What the hell did Jayden McGregor want from her?

Shaking her head, she tossed the phone onto her nightstand and buried herself under the covers. She had an early shift tomorrow, and the last thing she needed was to be distracted by a billionaire who had too much time- and too much money- on his hands.

But sleep never came. By the time she arrived at Le Jardin the next morning, Celeste was running on two hours of restless sleep and an obscene amount of caffeine.

The kitchen was already in full swing, the scent of freshly baked pastries filling the air. She pulled her apron over her head, willing herself to focus.

"Late night?" one of the sous-chefs teased as she passed by.

Celeste shot him a glare. "Shut up, Logan."

He grinned, flipping a sizzling piece of duck in a pan. "Didn't think you were the type to stay out late."

She wasn't.

Not in the way he meant. But she wasn't about to explain that her mind had been occupied by a persistent billionaire who refused to take no for an answer.

Chef Roux clapped his hands together. "Alright, people, listen up! We've got a packed lunch service today, so I don't want to see anyone slacking." His eyes landed on Celeste. "That includes you, Bennett."

"Yes, Chef," she said automatically.

But as she got to work, slicing fresh truffles for the afternoon's risotto special, an unsettling feeling settled in her gut.

Jayden McGregor wasn't the type to let things go.

And somehow, she knew she hadn't seen the last of him. Lunch service was brutal, but Celeste thrived under the pressure. It was the kind of chaos she loved- the kind she understood. Orders came in rapid succession, dishes flew out just as fast, and for a few blissful hours, she forgot about everything except the food in front of her.

But her temporary escape shattered the moment she stepped out of the kitchen for a breather.

Because standing at the bar, looking infuriatingly calm and collected, was Jayden McGregor.

Celeste came to an abrupt halt, her stomach tightening.

He was dressed more casually than yesterday-if an impeccably tailored dark sweater and designer slacks could be considered casual. But his presence was just as commanding, just as sharp.

And his eyes?

They locked onto hers the second she appeared.

A slow, deliberate smile curved his lips.

She clenched her jaw and strode toward him, ignoring the curious glances from the servers and bartenders.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she hissed under her breath.

Jayden took a sip of his drink-whiskey, neat-before answering. "Having lunch."

Celeste crossed her arms. "Bullshit. You don't do casual lunches at public restaurants."

He raised an eyebrow. "You know my dining habits now?"

She scowled. "You're here because of me."

He didn't deny it. Instead, he set his glass down and tilted his head. "I told you I'd make sure you changed your mind."

Celeste inhaled sharply, doing her best to ignore the way her pulse quickened. "I already told you-I'm not interested."

Jayden's gaze swept over her, slow and assessing. "I don't believe that."

Her nails dug into her palms. "You don't believe that? Are you kidding me? You barely know me."

"I know enough." He leaned in slightly, voice lowering. "I know you're talented. I know you push yourself harder than anyone else in that kitchen. And I know you're too smart not to take an opportunity when it's presented to you."

Damn him. Damn the way he could see right through her. She hated being predictable. Jayden reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek black envelope. "This is my final offer."

Celeste didn't take it. "I don't need to see what's inside."

He smirked. "Humor me."

She hesitated before snatching the envelope from his hand. With deliberate slowness, she opened it. And froze. Inside was a contract. A six-month contract. With a salary that made her stomach turn.

And at the bottom, written in Jayden McGregor's sharp, precise handwriting, was a note:

"If you last the full six months, I'll triple it."

Her heart pounded. Six months. Just six months. That kind of money could change everything. She could open her own restaurant. Finally get out from under the thumb of people like Chef Roux, people who thought they owned her just because they gave her a job. But working for Jayden McGregor? Being owned by him?

She shut the envelope and shoved it back into his chest. "I told you-I don't work for men like you."

His smile didn't falter. If anything, it widened.

"You say that," he murmured, "but your hands were shaking when you looked at the offer."

Celeste took a step back, heat rising to her face. "Screw you."

Jayden chuckled. "I'll take that as a 'maybe.'"

And with that, he stood, dropped a hundred-dollar bill on the bar, and strolled out of the restaurant like he owned the place. Because, in his world, he probably did.

Celeste let out a sharp breath, her fingers tightening around the edge of the counter. She hated him. She hated that he was right. And most of all-she hated that for the first time in her life, she wasn't sure if she wanted to say no. That night, she sat on her tiny apartment couch, staring at the black envelope she had sworn she wouldn't take. It had ended up in her bag anyway. Her fingers itched to open it again.

To read the contract. To see what she would be giving up. She swore under her breath and tossed it onto the coffee table. No. She wasn't doing this. A knock at the door made her jump. Frowning, she crossed the room and pulled it open.

Her heart stopped.

Jayden McGregor stood in the dimly lit hallway, one hand casually tucked into his pocket.

"What the-"

He held up a bottle of wine. "You look like you could use a drink."

Celeste gaped at him. "Are you insane? How do you even know where I live?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he stepped past her, walking into her apartment like he belonged there.

Celeste spun around, fury bubbling to the surface. "You can't just-"

Jayden set the wine down on the counter and turned to face her, eyes dark and unreadable.

"You have until midnight to make your decision," he said. "If you say no, I'll walk away. You'll never see me again."

Celeste swallowed hard. "And if I say yes?"

His lips curved.

"Then, Celeste Bennett, you'll belong to me for six months."