Single Dad Janitor Kissed A Billionaire To Save Her Life — And Then Everything Changed
Camille Kensington.
The name alone made the temperature in the building drop.
Tom had never seen her in person, but he had cleaned up the aftermath of her rage.
Shattered glass in conference rooms.
Whiteboards violently erased.
She had inherited Vanguard Financial from her father five years ago and systematically gutted the board of directors.
The press called her a visionary.
The employees called her a sociopath.
“Copy that,” Tom said.
He wheeled his cart toward the service elevator.
The air inside the metal box was stale.
As the numbers ticked upward, Tom stared at his reflection in the polished steel doors.
Dark bags hung under his brown eyes.
His jaw was covered in two days of rough stubble.
He looked exactly like what he was: a man barely treading water.
The elevator chimed.
Floor 50.
The doors slid open, and the smell of cheap lemon bleach was instantly replaced by the scent of ozone, expensive leather, and silence.
Thick, plush carpet swallowed the sound of his work boots.
The lighting here was soft, recessed, and warm.
Art that cost more than houses hung on the walls.
Tom pushed his cart down the hallway.
The executive suite was at the far end behind a set of heavy, frosted glass doors.
A sliver of light leaked from underneath.
He knocked once.
Softly.
No answer.
He knocked again, a little harder.
“Custodial,” he called out.
His voice felt too loud, too rough for the pristine hallway.
Still nothing.
Tom turned the handle.
It was unlocked.
He pushed the door open.
“Ms. Kensington? Frank said there was a—”
The words died in his throat.
The office was massive, flanked by windows overlooking Lake Michigan.
But Tom wasn’t looking at the view.
A heavy crystal tumbler lay shattered on the floor, a pool of amber liquid soaking into the white Persian rug.
And three feet away, behind a desk the size of a dining table, a woman was on her knees.
She was clawing at her own throat.
Tom froze for a fraction of a second.
The cynical part of his brain, the part ground down by years of being invisible, told him to back away.
Call security.
Don’t touch the billionaire.
Liability.
Risk.