???? FOREVER YOURS ????
{ His little kitten}

Genre: Billionaire's romance

Chapter 3&4

By Iconic

Do not copy or repost!

Because it's a new story you-all just decided to ghost it. It's alright I won't say much till we get to the tenth chapter and if the low engagement continue, have no other choice than to stop the story since you don't like it. It's immature considering a story not interesting when the drama hasn't even started. Work on the likes and comments and we would get a chapter tomorrow if I'm impressed, if I'm not till on Monday.

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“Are you stupid, or is that just your natural state?” Jaxon snapped, releasing his grip on her waist. Emily lost balance and fell flat on the cold elevator floor with a thud.

“Ow—” she winced, rubbing her forehead. “For your information, I’m not stupid. It was a mistake. And why the hell is your chest made of stone?”

Jaxon raised a brow.

“If ungentlemanly behavior was a person, it’d be you,” she muttered bitterly.

“I heard that,” he said coldly.

“Then good. Maybe it’ll stick for once,” she retorted under her breath. “You're already ruining my day.”

At that moment, the elevator doors slid open with a ding. A group of employees stood waiting outside. Their eyes widened at the sight: Emily sprawled awkwardly on the floor, and Jaxon standing there like he didn’t care.

Without a word, Jaxon stepped out, not even glancing back. Embarrassed, Emily scrambled to her feet and hurried after him.

“Wait... is she the boss’s new girlfriend?” one of them whispered.

“Are you blind?” another scoffed. “Look at what she’s wearing. And she was on the floor when the doors opened. No way she’s his girlfriend. Everyone knows the boss hasn’t looked at a woman since what happened two years ago.”

They stepped into the elevator just as the doors began to close.

The Capri’s Laundry

Mrs. Rosie was ironing clothes when Kelvin touched her arm gently. They had just arrived at the laundry shop minutes ago.

“Mum… they’re here again,” Kelvin whispered, pointing toward the group of men approaching the storefront.

“Kelvin, go and hide,” Mrs. Rosie said quickly, panic flickering in her eyes.

“No, Mum. I won’t let them hurt you,” he replied, standing firm.

“I said go,” she hissed softly, trying not to raise her voice.

Before either could move, the shop door swung open violently. The men barged in without hesitation.

The one who seemed to be the leader kicked a chair, letting it screech across the floor before sitting down with an arrogant sprawl.

“Still got the nerve to run this place, huh? You know you owe me money,” he said, voice cold.

“I told you I’d pay by the end of the month. Please, just give me a little more time,” Mrs. Rosie pleaded, wringing her hands.

“You borrowed from me on a three-month deal. It’s been almost a year. I’m not running a charity,” the man snapped.

“Please, sir. We’ll pay you. Just don’t hurt my mom,” Kelvin said, stepping forward.

“Shut it, kid,” the man barked, and Mrs. Rosie quickly pulled Kelvin behind her, giving him a silent warning glance.

The man looked around, then leaned in with a sinister smile.

“You’ve got a pretty daughter, Rosie. It’d be a shame if something happened to her. Maybe it’s time I took payment in another form.” His smile twisted cruelly. “You’ve got until the end of the week. No excuses.”

He stood up and nodded to his men.

“Let’s go.”

The group stormed out as abruptly as they had come. Silence filled the shop.

Kelvin turned to his mother, voice low and shaken.

“How are we supposed to raise that kind of money in a week?”

Mrs. Rosie sank into the chair, the iron now forgotten.

“I don’t know. I’m so tired, Kelvin… I don’t know anymore.”

Kelvin clenched his fists, a quiet fury burning in his eyes.

“I just hope they don’t do something horrible to big sister,” he muttered.

WITH MORE DYNAMIC*

Liam’s Office ....

The tension in the room was palpable.

Liam’s eyes scanned the latest sales report, and the sharp crack of a folder hitting his glass desk echoed like thunder. His jaw clenched, the vein on his temple twitching.

“What do you mean our sales are moving slowly?” he growled, his voice low but laced with fury.

His assistant shifted uncomfortably, eyes flicking nervously toward the report in Liam’s hand.
“Sir… the Jaxmill model is outselling us. It’s already dominating the market—and gaining ground fast. They’ve practically covered the entire car sector.”

Liam exhaled sharply through his nose, his lips curling in distaste.
“That damn Jaxon. Always two steps ahead.”
He stood abruptly, pushing back his leather chair as he paced across the sleek office floor.
“I’m not letting him win this time.”

He stopped, turning to face the assistant with an icy stare.
“We’ll build a new car—something better, faster, more advanced. We’ll shake the market to its core.”

The assistant opened his mouth to respond, but Liam wasn’t done.

“I’ve watched Jaxon win ‘CEO of the Year’ for the past three years,” Liam said, his voice dark with conviction. “This year, that title is mine.”

Then, a slow, dangerous smirk curled across his face.
“But maybe… just maybe… we won’t start from scratch this time.”

The assistant blinked. “Sir?”

“We’ll take a look at their design. Get inside their heads. If we have to steal a few ideas to crush them—so be it.”

The room fell silent.

“Yes, sir,” the assistant murmured after a beat.

Liam waved him off without another word.

As the door clicked shut behind the assistant, Liam turned back to the city skyline, the smirk never leaving his face.

Back at JM Company*

Emily was quietly mopping the hallway when someone suddenly spilled coffee right on the spot she’d just cleaned.

“Oops! So sorry,” a snide voice said. “Clean it up—that’s what you’re paid for, right?”

Emily clenched her jaw, dropped the mop into the bucket, and walked up to the girl.

Shasa, that's her name. Others hate her because of her proud character and since she's kind of close to Jaxon ( Business purpose )

“No,” she said coolly, “you take that mop and clean it yourself. I know you did that on purpose.”

Shasa scoffed. “And so?”

Emily stepped closer. “And so, you think just because I’m working here as a cleaner, you can treat me like trash? You’ve got guts.” She grabbed the Shasa by her hair and dragged her toward the mop.

“Now squeeze it out and clean that mess. I’m not your maid,” Emily ordered sharply.

“I’m going to report you to the boss for this!” Shasa cried, struggling.

“Before you do, I suggest you clean up that spill. Unless you want me to rip out every last strand on your head. I swear, you’d look terrifying bald,” Emily snapped.

“Fine! Let go, I’ll clean it!” Shasa shouted, snatching the mop and reluctantly wiping the coffee off the floor.

“Rubbish,” Emily muttered under her breath, snatching the mop back once the girl was done and continuing with her cleaning.

“You won’t get away with this,” Shasa hissed.

“Go rot in hell,” Emily shot back.

“F**k you,” Shasa spat before stomping away.

“Your mum,” Emily said loudly, earning a deadly glare over Shasa's shoulder.

Just then, Emily’s phone rang. As she fumbled to pull it from her pocket, it slipped—plop!—straight into the mop bucket.

“Ah, f**k! This is the worst day ever!” she groaned, fishing it out. The screen stayed black. “Great. Now I need a new phone. With what money?! I’m so frustrated right now.”

“Stop talking to yourself like a madwoman and get this bucket out of my way,” a deep voice said behind her.

Emily jumped. “Jeez! You scared me,” she said, turning to face Jaxon. “Why are you always everywhere I go?”

Jaxon smirked and stepped closer, pulling out his phone to check the time. Her heart skipped, just for a second.

“You irritate me,” he said coldly. “And I just might fire you soon if you don’t move this damn bucket.”

She noticed it was right in front of his office door.

“Ugh, scary much,” she muttered under her breath as she hurriedly moved the mop and bucket aside.

The Capri’s Small Apartment – 10:00 PM

“You're just so useless in this house,” Mrs. Rosie snapped, her voice laced with fury as she glared at Mr. Evans.

“All you ever do is drink and waste your life away. No job, no effort—nothing. You're completely useless.”

“Mum, please… calm down,” Kelvin said gently, trying to ease the tension.

Mr. Evans groaned and slowly pulled himself up from the floor, swaying slightly from the alcohol.

“Has Emily come home yet?” he asked, his voice slurred, ignoring the storm in the room.

Mrs. Rosie let out a bitter laugh.

“She’s working—because someone has to provide for this family, since you clearly won’t,” she spat. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

With that, she stormed off into the bedroom and slammed the door shut.

Kelvin sighed and turned to his father. “Dad, you need to stop drinking. It’s ruining your health.”

Mr. Evans looked down at the half-empty bottle in his hand, then back at his son with regret in his eyes.

“I’m sorry… for being such a useless and shameless father,” he mumbled.

Kelvin shook his head. “Dad, I know it’s not your fault. You had a good job once. If you hadn’t been framed for stealing… things would be different. We’d be living a better life.”

Mr. Evans' eyes welled up. “I love you, son.”

“I love you too, Dad,” Kelvin replied, pulling him into a hug.
____

Emily was on her way home when a black SUV screeched to a halt in front of her, blocking her path. Her heart skipped. The doors swung open and a group of men stepped out.

The ones who went to meet her mum, Mr Rosie at the laundry shop in the morning.

One of them, the leader, walked right up to her. He reached out and casually brushed a strand of her hair.

"Get your hands off me!" Emily snapped, stepping back. "What do you want?"

"You of course," one of the guys chuckled. The rest burst into mocking laughter.

"Alright, enough," the leader—Wolfie—said, silencing them with a glance.

He leaned closer to Emily, eyes raking over her. "You’re beautiful, you know that? The curves on you... Damn, I lose my mind every time I see you. And right now, I’m really losing it. Can't wait longer to screw your pussy."

"You won’t dare do anything stupid," Emily warned, backing away, her voice trembling.

Wolfie’s gaze darkened. "If you try to run, your mother pays the price. So be smart. Get in the car."

"No. I’m not going anywhere with you," she said, standing her ground.

Wolfie gave a subtle signal, and before she could react, the others grabbed her. She struggled, fought to break free, but she was outnumbered and outmatched. They forced her into the car and slammed the door shut.

Wolfie climbed in after her, a twisted smile on his face. Emily fumbled for the door handle, but it was locked.

Outside, the rest of the men stayed by the car, keeping watch.

Then, without warning, Wolfie began pulling off his jacket, reaching toward her with dangerous intent.

Emily fought back fiercely. She kicked him hard on his dîck and while he was doubled over in pain, she reached into his jacket and snatched the car keys. With frantic hands, she unlocked the door and bolted out, heart pounding.

"Get her!" Wolfie yelled behind her.

Emily ran as fast as her legs could carry her. Her torn clothes flapped in the wind, her breath sharp and ragged. Just then, headlights beamed down the road—a car was approaching.

Desperate, she stumbled into the road and waved her arms. The car slowed, and the driver hit the brakes just in time.

The driver’s window rolled down.

“Seriously?” the familiar voice grumbled. “Her again?”

It was Jaxon.

Emily didn’t hesitate—she yanked the door open and climbed in. “Please,” she panted. “Just help me.”

Jaxon stared at her in disbelief. “Are you insane? After the way you talked to me at the company, you think you can just—what, jump in my car? Who do you think you are?”

“Please,” Emily whispered. “They were trying to… r*pe me.” Her voice broke.

That’s when he noticed the state of her clothes.

Without a word, he reached into the backseat and handed her a hoodie.

“Here. Change into this.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly, pulling the hoodie on.

Jaxon started the car again, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “So what, you just flagged down any random car hoping they weren’t a serial killer?”

She gave him a sidelong glare. “You? Please. You can’t even kill a mosquito. You’re only good at designing cars.”

A smirk tugged at his lips. “Yeah? But I’ve still got a dick. What if I decided to fûck you right here in this car.?”

Emily stiffened, her throat dry. She swallowed hard, but said nothing.

Tbc..

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