Devotion - Billionaire Contemporary Romance Novel
“ It all meant nothing in the end.
His buildings, his reputation, his passion for a city that had been his adopted home for the past twenty years, none of it mattered—none of it—unless she chose to walk into the office. Phillip settled his gaze onto the statue of Cyrus, the Roman goddess of fertility. Faceless, he thought. She had been erected atop one of the most iconic buildings in the center of downtown Chicago’s financial district, but sculpted by the artist without a fac...e, just so wealthy egotistical men who observed her from the adjacent skyscrapers could imagine whatever expression they wanted her to possess.
Lecherous men like him. He pitched forward in his swivel chair as a debilitating ache throbbed throughout his chest. Paralyzed, silent, and barely breathing, he waited for the surge of regret to release its constriction of his heart.
He glanced at his watch. Fifteen minutes late. He gazed at his office phone. She still hadn’t called. He had considered calling her. Every hour, the impulse swelled in him to dial her home phone number. But he had resisted every time. He had already played the role of intruder. Now, he was forced to accept the role of penitent, forced to accept his punishment—he would have to wait and see if she would choose to come to him.MoreLess
His buildings, his reputation, his passion for a city that had been his adopted home for the past twenty years, none of it mattered—none of it—unless she chose to walk into the office. Phillip settled his gaze onto the statue of Cyrus, the Roman goddess of fertility. Faceless, he thought. She had been erected atop one of the most iconic buildings in the center of downtown Chicago’s financial district, but sculpted by the artist without a fac...e, just so wealthy egotistical men who observed her from the adjacent skyscrapers could imagine whatever expression they wanted her to possess.
Lecherous men like him. He pitched forward in his swivel chair as a debilitating ache throbbed throughout his chest. Paralyzed, silent, and barely breathing, he waited for the surge of regret to release its constriction of his heart.
He glanced at his watch. Fifteen minutes late. He gazed at his office phone. She still hadn’t called. He had considered calling her. Every hour, the impulse swelled in him to dial her home phone number. But he had resisted every time. He had already played the role of intruder. Now, he was forced to accept the role of penitent, forced to accept his punishment—he would have to wait and see if she would choose to come to him.MoreLess
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