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The Jilted Heiress And Her Billionaire Protector Novel Cover

The Jilted Heiress And Her Billionaire Protector

To save her family's firm, an heiress enters a cold marriage with Jaxson Wilson, a ruthless mogul. After her relatives betray her, she flees to him, expecting neglect. Instead, Jaxson provides a custom mansion and genuine care, even risking his life for hers. Confused by his devotion in a transactional union, she realizes he values her above all else. With a powerful protector by her side, she prepares to make her toxic family regret their cruelty.
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Chapter 5

Kaia sucked in a sharp breath. Her thumb pushed down on the screen, hitting the call button.

She pressed the phone to her ear. Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs.

The phone rang twice.

"Kaia."

Jaxson's voice was deep, laced with a heavy exhaustion. In the background, Kaia could hear the faint, crisp sound of paper pages turning.

Kaia swallowed hard. Her throat was tight. "Jaxson," she said. Her voice came out breathless and weak.

The sound of turning pages stopped instantly.

"Are you not used to the new house?" Jaxson asked. His tone dropped an octave, becoming noticeably softer.

"No, no," Kaia rushed to say. "The house is beautiful. Mrs. Holloway is wonderful."

A low chuckle vibrated through the speaker. The sound sent a sudden rush of heat straight to Kaia's ears.

"If everything is fine," Jaxson said smoothly, "then you wouldn't be calling me. What's the problem?"

Kaia gripped the bedsheet with her free hand, twisting the fabric. He saw right through her.

"I... I want to sleep in the guest room," Kaia blurted out.

Dead silence.

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.

The silence stretched over the phone line like a physical weight pressing down on Kaia's chest. Her lungs seized.

"I write scripts late at night," Kaia babbled, desperate to fill the void. "My schedule is terrible. I don't want to wake you up. It's just better for both of our sleep quality if we-"

Jaxson pinched the bridge of his nose on the other end of the line. He knew she was lying. He knew she was terrified of sharing a bed with him.

"Fine," Jaxson said. His voice was completely flat. "Sleep wherever you feel comfortable."

Kaia froze. Her mouth fell open slightly. She had prepared a dozen arguments. She expected a fight.

"You... you agree?" Kaia asked, her voice filled with disbelief. "What about the staff? Won't they talk?"

"At The Haven Estate, you don't need to care about anyone's opinion," Jaxson said. His voice hardened with absolute authority. "Including mine."

The words hit Kaia's chest like a physical blow. A strange, warm ripple spread through her stomach. What did that mean? Was he giving her freedom, or was he telling her he was so indifferent to this sham marriage that she could do whatever she wanted? The thought was both liberating and strangely insulting, twisting the warmth into a knot of deep confusion. She didn't know what to say.

"What did you eat for dinner?" Jaxson asked, abruptly shifting the conversation.

Kaia blinked. "I was tired from unpacking. I haven't eaten yet."

"Kaia." Jaxson's voice snapped like a whip. It was sharp and furious. "Do not play games with your health. Go downstairs right now and have the kitchen make you something."

Kaia flinched at the sudden reprimand. "Okay," she mumbled, sounding exactly like a scolded child.

Jaxson heard the soft submission in her voice. He let out a heavy sigh. "I have a dinner meeting tonight. I'll be back late. Go to sleep early."

"Goodnight," Kaia said softly.

She hung up the phone. She stared at the black screen, letting out a massive breath. The tension drained out of her muscles, leaving her feeling light and hollow.

She stood up and walked into the closet. She stripped off her clothes and pulled on a pair of loose, soft cotton pajamas.

She opened the bedroom door. The hallway sconces cast a dim, amber glow. The central air conditioning hummed quietly.

Kaia walked down the curved staircase. She stepped lightly on the balls of her feet, not wanting to wake Mrs. Holloway or the maids.

She found the massive open-concept kitchen in the dark. She flicked on a single, small spotlight above the marble island.

She opened the double-door industrial refrigerator. It was packed with wagyu beef and truffles, but she bypassed all of it. She grabbed two tomatoes and a handful of dry spaghetti.

She set the ingredients on the cold marble counter. She turned on the sink, the water rushing loudly as she washed the tomatoes. She grabbed a knife and started chopping.

She was completely focused on the rhythm of the blade against the cutting board. She didn't hear the faint electronic click of the front door unlocking.

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