Tempting the Billionaire and His Heir

ALEXA’S POV

As I cut between the sandwiches I had prepared for Mr. Rude, I place them neatly on their plate by a tray. Thanking Cassey for her assistance, I toom the tray with me on my way to Nolan’s room where he had called me earlier.

His room was as I had last seen it, the after he had a nice arrangement with his girlfriend.

God, if only he wasn’t so arrogant and bitchy, he could preferably be my type.

Spotting him by his balcony, I see him engrossed with his work on a floorplan. His hand is extraordinarily skilled with such detail, I wonder it’s the reason why he holds himself at arms length with people. Artist and their non-sociable affairs.

“What are you staring for?” Nolan says, not even taking a glance to turn to me.

“Nothing, just admiring your work from behind” As I replied, I hear him scoffs at my word as if it were an insult to him.

“What’s that for?” I asked as I set the tray by an empy spot on another table, not to have it hit and ruin his work.

“Architecture project, I couldn’t think of anything else so I used an imaginary home…” He replied, unamused with the question.

“Imaginary home, like your dream house?” I giggle as I watch him from behind putting line details on what I think is a wooden floor.

“Yes.”

Such a short answer, so typical for someone who’s artistically inclined.

I look around the balcony and spot a canve on its own post with a few more pieces finish by the side.

It had dark pieces as well as vibrant ones, but what caught my attention was a lovely portrait of a woman with no face.

“What are you doing?” His sudden questioning made me jump and I turn to see him watching me by his work area.

“I just wanted to see your work up close-”

“Why?” He asks, setting down his pens and crossing his arms as he rests his back on the chair he sat on.

“Well, I admire art as a whole… I just wanted to see-”

“You admire a lot of thing and I like how you have taste, something most commom low life would have in their genetics,” He gives me a smirk and I hear a small gurgle faint to hear.

“Pass me the sandwiches”

I walk back over to the small table a few inches away from him and took the tray.

“You know, should be glad lowlife common people like me admire art”

“Is that so?” He laughs at me, which I nodded.

“Do you even have standards?” Nolan asks as he takes the tray of food and looks up at me.

Taken aback, I look at him with a raised brow to which he responding with a mouthful laugh.

“I do have standards, and they are far too fine for you to be in it” I scoff at him as I crossed my arms.

“Is that so?” He covers his mouth as he chewed and held back his laugh.

“Yes, as a matter of a fact, you will never reach my standards,”

“Then what type are under those said standards?” Nolan finishes on his chewing and asks.

“My type aren’t snobby rich boys feeding off of their father’s wealth like a parasite.” I whisper to him as I lean closer to him.

Nolan glares at me as he takes another bite off from the food he held and looks away. Someone who likes starting fights, he sure gets fussy when he loses.

I smiled at his reaction and the thought that came along with it.All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

“Do you ever feel like a puppet, Nanny?” Did he just call me Nanny?…

“What do you mean? And I do have a name, Nolan…” I state as I watch a sarcastic grin crept on his face.

“I know you do, yet I don’t find the need to use it… You know why?” He takes another bite, finishing another slice again.

I shot him a curious look as I gesture him to continue.

“You’re a puppet just like me, but a bit in the lower class range where you dont have control of your life…” He starts.

“I say that as both an insult and a fair note to you of what my life is around here. My Father gets to boss you around as much as I can but I can’t do the same to him,”

As he says those words, my mind quickly came the night before with Mr. Brown. His saddened look gave me a chill as his son doesn’t seem to see him in the same level.

Anthony could be trying his whole life ever since Nolan had been born to show him the love and life he could offer to him, but what I don’t understand is why Nolan chooses to resist.

“Nolan, you know I don’t entirely understand where this is coming from but you know if you need someone to talk to… Despite being your nanny, I can be your friend to lend an ear,” I look at him as he finishes his meal and glances over me with a disgusted look.

“And why should I trust you?” He asks, placing the tray by the spare table and settling back down where he sat before.

“You’re driven for money, you have no care for what my feelings mean nor should it ever matter if I do end up what my father wishes me to be… So why should I trust a puppet like you?”

“Because…”