The Grumpy Billionaire Who Stole Christmas Read... -

He turned then, his eyes like flint. "It’s a strategic acquisition. The market is an eyesore. It’s loud, it smells of cheap cinnamon, and it’s blocking the view of the skyline."

Silas watched me, his gaze dropping to my lips for a fraction of a second before locking back onto mine. The silence stretched, heavy and charged. The Grumpy Billionaire Who Stole Christmas Read...

I knew I was making a deal with the devil. But as I looked into those cold, lonely eyes, I realized Silas Vane didn't just want to steal Christmas. He wanted someone to finally show him why it was worth keeping. He turned then, his eyes like flint

"You’re late, Noelle," he said without turning around. His voice was a low, gravelly rasp that always made the hair on my arms stand up—partly from irritation, partly from something I refused to name. It’s loud, it smells of cheap cinnamon, and

Silas Vane stood by the balcony, a silhouette of sharp tailoring and even sharper edges. He didn't look like a man celebrating; he looked like a king surveying a kingdom he found deeply disappointing.

"Is that what this is?" I gestured to the empty, shimmering room. "You bought the land, you cancelled the permits, and you invited me here just to gloat? You’re not a businessman tonight, Silas. You’re just the Grinch in a Tom Ford suit."