Page 12 of Pucking My Off-Limits Billionaire Boss
"They do, Lucy, of course, they do. But sometimes dreams change. You're talented, you're smart. You could do so much more."
Andrew steps closer, his expression earnest, trying to bridge the gap between us. "Lucy, listen to me. I want you to move in with me. You won't have to work, worry about bills, or anything. I can take care of you."
His words, meant to be comforting, feel like chains to me. I recoil slightly, both physically and emotionally. "Move in with you? So I can just... what? Sit at home all day while you handle everything?"
He nods, seemingly oblivious to my growing discomfort. "Yes, exactly. You wouldn't have to stress over work or money. I can provide for us both. Isn't that what you want?"
I stare at him, disbelief and frustration swirling inside me. "That's not what I want, Andrew. I don't want to be taken care of. I want to work, to build something of my own. I don't want to be dependent on anyone, especially not for my own happiness and success."
Andrew seems taken aback, his brows furrowing. "But why? Why struggle when you don't have to? I'm offering you an easy life, a comfortable life."
I shake my head, my resolve hardening. "An easy life isn't necessarily a fulfilling one, Andrew. I need more than comfort. I need to feel like I'm contributing, like I'm chasing my own goals and dreams."
He steps forward again, his voice taking on a pleading tone. "Lucy, you're being irrational. This is a chance for you to have everything you need without the stress.”
I take a step back, feeling a chasm opening up between us. "Because, Andrew, what I need and what you think I need are two different things. I need to be independent, to feel like I'm making my own way in the world. Your idea of taking care of me... it's suffocating."
The conversation takes a turn, the air in Andrew's apartment growing heavy and charged. He steps closer, his expression serious, almost intense. I can feel something shifting, a revelation about to unfold.
"Lucy," Andrew begins, his voice soft yet firm, "marry me."
The words hang in the air like a cloud, unexpected and jarring. "What?" I stammer, taken aback.
"Marry me," he repeats, his eyes locked on mine. "I'll support you, take care of everything. You won't have to worry about businesses or debts. Just... be with me."
His proposal, devoid of romance, feels more like a business transaction, and it sends a chill down my spine. "Andrew, I... I don't understand. Are you saying you want me be a housewife or something?"
He reaches out to me, but I step back, needing space to process his words. "It's not just about being a housewife, Lucy. It's about having a simpler life, a better life. With me, you won't have to struggle, to fight so hard for everything."
His words, meant to be reassuring, feel like a trap. "But my work, it's a part of who I am. You're asking me to give up a part of myself."
Andrew's expression hardens slightly. "Sometimes we have to sacrifice for the people we love. I'm offering you stability, comfort, a life without financial worries. Isn't that worth considering?"
I shake my head, disbelief mixing with a growing sense of unease. "You're not listening to me, Andrew. I don't want to be saved, especially not like this."
He sighs, the mask of patience slipping. "Lucy, you're standing on the edge of ruin, and I'm offering you a way out. Why can't you see that?"
His words sting, and I feel my defenses rising. "Because your way out means erasing everything I've worked for, everything I am. I'm not some damsel in distress waiting to be rescued."
Andrew's voice takes on a sharper edge. "I'm trying to be there for you, to help you, and you're throwing it back in my face. You need to think about your future, our future."
"Our future?" I counter, my voice rising. "There can't be an 'our future' if it means losing myself in the process."
We stand there, the gap between us widening with every word. Andrew's true colors are showing, possessive and controlling, wanting me for himself but on his terms. His proposal isn't about love; it's about ownership, about fitting me into the neat little box of his expectations.
I stand there for a moment, reeling from the conversation and Andrew's proposal, which felt more like an ultimatum. My heart races, but my mind is clear. I can't give up on my dreams, not for Andrew, not for anyone. He's revealed himself to be selfish, manipulative, and I can't be a part of that.
"Andrew," I say, my voice trembling but firm. "I can't do this. I won't give up who I am for you, or for anyone."
Andrew looks at me, his expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. "Lucy, you're being unreasonable. You need me."
"I don't," I reply, my resolve strengthening. "I need to be true to myself, and that's not something you can offer me."
He steps closer, trying to reach for me, but I back away. "Lucy, don't be rash. Think about what you're doing."
"I have thought about it," I say, meeting his gaze. "More than you know. And this... this isn't right. We're not right."
He steps closer, his arrogance palpable. "Lucy, do you have any idea how many women would just love to have someone like me offer them what I’m offering you?”
