The hell.

“I don’t know who the hell she is or what she wants with me, but fine... Let her in; if she makes my day worse, she’s going to pay for it.” I sigh, and Ralph turns back to the phone.

“Let her in.” He growls into the phone.

I glance down at my wrist watch to see that it’s getting late.

Today isn’t one of my best days, and it’ll be best if someone doesn’t ruin it before it actually comes to an end. My dear old father is on my neck, holding that one sick inheritance I’ve wanted all my life until I get married.

“Get married before inheriting the Black Palace” is all he ever talks about.

Just because I have one failed marriage and I might be unable to give him any grandchildren, he’s treating me like I’m some kid.

If anyone checked, I’m the city’s billionaire, and I didn’t come all the way to the top because of one stupid failed marriage and my infertility, but because I focused on myself.

Get married? Again ?

Who cares about women or kids?

They can easily be bought with money, and that’s why investing is never out of my mind. I seize every chance I can get with money.

If only I could just get my father to believe I can handle the Black Palace without having to get married, then this city’s radar will be under my wing.

I will be having a press conference at the city’s hall, and I know I’ll basically get asked about how the life of a new-money billionaire is. Because that’s what everyone cares about.

But at least, that’ll show my father who the boss is here.

The door opens, and my secretary, Alice, walks in with a young lady behind her.

Now if this is one of those ladies trying to accuse me of my so-called anonymous driver hitting them on the road with my car or something just to get money out of me, I don’t care. I’ll lose my sh*t right now.

I don’t have another second to lose; I need just tonight and a lot of perfect rest to get ready for that conference tomorrow.

Alice leaves my office, and Ralph welcomes the young lady, shutting the door behind him.

The brunette looks gory; despite those tired lids, there’s a perfect shade of blue orbs just sitting there.

Such familiar eyes.

With a white, loose T-shirt and her skinny jeans. She’s here for a dollar.

I can guarantee it.

She looks like she’s on a diet as her really skinny hands clutch her purse. Her hair looks oily, and of course, I can already read her like a book.

She is one of those ladies trying to rip me off.

She looks like she can barely afford to buy a sandwich for herself.

She wants to have a conversation with me.

Why would I have anything to do with her?

I stare at her.

“Naomi Gilmore, I suppose?” Ralph’s voice takes over the silence.