Sleeping with His Billionaire Uncle

Is this the student who hired you at the club to do her homework? The professor pointed a finger right at me.

A cold sweat broke out across my back as I stared at the man standing next to him. Last night, over the deafening bass of the club, I had stumbled toward the booth across from me, zeroing in on a guy so hot he made my knees weak. I slammed my assignment down right next to his glass and asked point-blank, "Are you gonna do it?"

He had leaned back against the leather sofa, gesturing for me to go on.

I slapped down a stack of cash and a thick calculus workbook. "Calculus. Do it."

He leaned deeper into the leather cushions, his dark, intense gaze raking over me. A playful smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. Without taking a single dime, he spun his pen between his long, elegant fingers and effortlessly knocked out my calculus problems in a few swift strokes.

Now, he was standing here in a crisp, tailored shirt, a pristine name tag pinned to his chest: PhD Teaching Assistant, U of A.

Chapter 1

Shoving that damn calculus workbook into my bag, I felt my entire college career circling the drain. Three tequila shots deep at a club and still trying to catch up on assignments, I was desperate enough to rip all my hair out.

Just as the panic set in, my peripheral vision snagged on a ridiculously good-looking guy wearing glasses sitting in the booth opposite mine. A pristine badge was pinned to his shirt: PhD Candidate, U of A. An absolute genius.

Liquid courage surged through my veins. I stumbled my way over to him. Ignoring his slightly bewildered expression, I pointed over my shoulder toward the math problems waiting on my sofa and cut straight to the chase. "Can you do it?"

The air around the booth went dead silent.

He blinked, a soft chuckle vibrating in his throat, and sat up, tilting his head to study me.

His frat-boy-looking friends instantly leaned in, whistling and jeering. "Holy shit, an actual hot girl has the guts to hit on Roman?"

My brain was buzzing with white noise. Panic clawed at my throat. Terrified he'd reject me, I blurted out, "I can pay you!"

Another wave of hooting erupted from the guys.

Roman frowned, shooting a sharp, warning glare at his friends. "She's drunk. Knock it off."

I wasn't joking! Seeing he didn't believe me, I slammed that heavy calculus textbook right onto the glass table in front of him.

I leaned forward, locking onto his eyes. "Are you gonna do it or not? I'm dead serious."

The club music chose that exact second to cut out. The silence that followed was deafening.

His friends stared at me like I had grown a second head.

Roman arched an eyebrow, his gaze dropping to the textbook on the table, thoughtful. "U of A student?"

I nodded eagerly. Catching a sliver of hesitation in his eyes, I pressed my advantage.

"I literally only know how to write the word 'Solution' and nothing else. Our new TA is a complete psycho. If I don't submit this tonight, I'm screwed."

His eyebrow shot up even higher. Struck by some bizarre coincidence, he repeated, "A psycho?" Then, caught somewhere between amusement and exasperation, he asked, "What's your name?"

There was no way in hell I was giving him my real name. Panicking, I pulled the absolute worst lie out of thin air. "I'm Bob! Yeah, Bob Smith!"

His friends lost it. Some were turning purple trying to hold it in; others had collapsed against the leather cushions howling.

"The little lady just called you a psycho, man!" someone hollered over the noise.

The bass had kicked back in, making it hard to hear exactly what they said. But under my relentless badgering, Roman finally picked up a pen and got to work.

I was so moved I could have bought the entire club for him on the spot. The neon lights traced the sharp line of his jaw and illuminated his intense, focused gaze. I swallowed hard. The raw hormones suffocating the air were drowning me.

When he was almost done, I started digging blindly through my backpack for my cash. Except the bag felt weird. The pockets weren't where they usually were. I fumbled around for an eternity, coming up empty.

"Cash is in the side pocket," that familiar, lazy voice murmured right next to my ear.

Oh, side pocket. I immediately shoved my hand in and, sure enough, pulled out a crumpled wad of bills. I practically shoved it into his chest. "How did you know my money was in there?"

We were so close I could see the neon lights reflecting as beautiful halos in his dark eyes. The guy practically glowed.

He glanced down at the pathetic ball of cash in his hand, the corner of his mouth ticking up. "Because it's my bag."

Another roaring wave of laughter tore through his friends.

"Using his own money to do the homework he assigned!" someone wheezed. "Roman, you can flex this one for the rest of your life!"

I scowled, entirely unimpressed, and snapped back, "I will pay you."

Roman rubbed his temples. He wrapped a hand around my arm, guiding me toward the exit, humoring me. "Yeah, put it on my tab. You'll have plenty of chances to pay me back."

Everything after that was a complete blackout. When I finally snapped awake, I was face-down in my dorm bed. It took me two full seconds to process existence before I scrambled for my phone. My assignment had been photographed and uploaded last night.

I let out a massive breath, silently praising the absolute god-tier intellect of that PhD student.

Chapter 2

I was just trying to piece together the hazy details of my interaction with the genius from last night when my roommate leaned in, her face practically glowing with gossip. "So, what exactly is going on between you and the TA?"

What did the TA have to do with anything? I stared at her blankly.

She blinked back, surprised. "Our TA brought you home last night."

She paused, practically inhaling the drama before adding, "And you were gripping his shirt, refusing to let him leave. You kept demanding he finish 'doing it' for you."

Boom. I swear I felt a blood vessel pop in my brain.

Ignoring the heavily suggestive tone in her voice, I asked, my voice trembling, "Our TA is his name Roman?"

She looked at me like I was an idiot. "Roman. The hottest guy on campus? Are you seriously telling me you didn't know his name?"

Help! I thought he was just some hot nerd radiating charm at the club, but it turns out he's the TA who holds my life and death in his hands! And last night, right to his face, I called him a psycho

While my roommate was still interrogating me, a notification popped up on my phone screen, blindingly bright:

[Bob Smith.]

A second later, another message pinged.

[My office. Room 303. Now.]

Hahaha, I was dead. The world had officially lost its mind.

I walked into the office, my stomach tied in a million knots. The first thing I saw was the kindly professor smiling and discussing something with a very handsome guy. A very familiar handsome guy. A shiver ran down my spine.

It was Roman.

He looked nothing like the lazy, relaxed guy lounging under the club's neon lights yesterday. Right now, bathed in the sunlight filtering through the blinds, he looked cold, exuding an inexplicable, untouchable distance.

They both looked up as I walked in. The professor's smile vanished instantly. He crossed his arms.

"Fallon, when exactly did you change your name?" He pointed to the grading interface on his computer screen. "Your new alias is quite unique."

Ahhhh! I died last night, but the funeral is today. Staring at the massive "Bob Smith" typed in the name field, I wanted to bludgeon myself to death with my own backpack.

The professor patted Roman on the shoulder, somewhere between furious and amused. "Is this the student you mentioned? The one who tried to hire you at the club to do her homework?"

Roman spun a pen between his long fingers, neither confirming nor denying it.

The professor launched into a long, disappointed lecture, pouring out life lessons like I was a lost cause. With every word, the heat in my cheeks burned hotter. I apologized sincerely, my fingernails digging into my palms.

Roman remained completely unfazed, though his expression tightened slightly. "I expect you to redo this assignment. You can use what I wrote as a reference. But you need to show your own understanding."

It was only when he said that that I realized the document hed submitted for me wasnt just a list of answers. It was a complete breakdown of the problem-solving logic and steps.

A fresh wave of mortification washed over me. I had badgered him relentlessly in front of everyone last night, forcing his hand. But instead of throwing me under the bus, he had actually laid out the framework so I could learn.

He was an actual saint, and I was going straight to hell. I had completely screwed him over, and he was still trying to tutor me.

I lowered my head, ready to stammer out an awkward 'thank you,' when my eyes drifted downward. Something about his lower leg looked different.

I froze.

If I wasn't mistaken, the section exposed beneath the rolled hem of his casual slacks was a mechanical prosthetic, gleaming with cold metallic light.

After a second of total mental blankness, my head snapped up, terrified hed catch me staring. My eyes crashed straight into his calculating gaze.

Shit. Did he notice?

A chaotic mess of emotions choked my throat. I couldn't form a single word.

Roman's expression didn't shift. He tilted his head, a teasing edge to his voice. "Am I really that scary?"

I shook my head violently. "No! You're actually a really great TA." And I meant every word of that.

Before, I just thought he was a hardass. But after all this, my respect for him had skyrocketed.

A flicker of amusement danced in Roman's dark eyes. "Is that so?"

Chapter 3

I was just about to nod.

The amusement in his eyes widened, dripping with implication. "But I heard I was a psycho."

I stared at him. Why was he bringing that up again?

I stammered a hasty goodbye to the professor and practically bolted out the door. That smooth little joke of his had flawlessly paved over the suffocating awkwardness from a second ago.

This interrogation, which felt like a public execution, finally ended with me being ordered to rewrite the entire calculus assignment. On the walk back to the dorm, I couldn't get the faint, lingering shadow I'd caught in his eyes out of my head.

The second I pushed open my door, my roommate threw her hands up. "Oh my god! The only motivation for this class is gone. Our hot TA is bailing!"

Bailing? Roman was leaving?

She scrolled through the group chat, dropping onto her bed in defeat. "Ugh, he was only pulled in to help out temporarily anyway. With the insane pressure of his PhD research, it makes sense he's dipping."

I frowned, genuinely confused. "Wait, he's actually doing his PhD in our department?"

My roommate rolled her eyes dramatically, throwing her hands in the air. "Come on, princess, are you on dial-up internet? The whole campus knows about this!"

"It's Roman! The absolute god of the Comp Sci department. Hes doing a joint Bachelor's, Master's, and PhD program and just got back from an overseas fellowship last year."

After she finished shoving his flawless resume down my throat, I sat there processing it all in stunned silence.

She kept swiping through the campus forum threads worshiping his achievements, scoffing. "Wow, some trolls are actually spreading rumors that he's sick or disabled."

My stomach dropped. The image of that cold, metallic prosthetic flashed in my mind. Was it really just a rumor?

After scrubbing through every single post, she tossed her phone aside. "He's campus royalty. Zero scandals, zero dating history."

She stopped, her eyes locking onto me like I was a prime piece of gossip. "And you are the first."

I blinked. That night was a complete accident.

Under the predatory, interrogation-lamp glare of my roommates, I had no choice but to spill every humiliating detail of what happened at the club.

They lost their minds laughing. Once she caught her breath, my roommate looked at me in disbelief.

"You went to a club totally alone? You've got some serious nerve. What, do you think your family owns the place?!"

I shrugged, spreading my hands innocently. "Technically speaking, that club is a property under my sister's name."

She froze for a split second before grabbing my arm, practically vibrating. "That's a massive chain! Holy shit, I'm living with actual wealth."

That very night, my whole dorm dragged me out to that club for a wild spending spree, all charged to my black card. From then on, they never called me by my real name again, only referring to me as the "Sugar Queen."

Chapter 4

They declared me their forever queen, constantly quoting the ridiculous fake name I had made up that night.

Great. I would never live this down in front of them.

When the next calculus class rolled around, sure enough, there was a new TA. I kept zoning out, but every time I pictured that meticulously written step-by-step breakdown he'd done for me, I forced myself to tune back into the lecture. Later, I sat down, determined to actually do my homework properly, but I couldn't find my reference book anywhere.

I was tearing my room apart looking for it when my sister called.

The background noise on her end was chaotic. She sounded swamped. "Hey, I was supposed to tutor some kid in coding this Friday night, but I'm stuck out of town. Cover for me."

Me?! Teach a kid? Was she out of her mind?

I was ready to snap at her, but for the sake of cold, hard cash, I swallowed my pride. "Make it double," I bargained, gritting my teeth.

Sure, my coding skills were solid, but the thought of dealing with a kid had my stomach tying itself into knots. When Friday came, I pulled myself together, arrived at the address, plastered on my friendliest smile, and hit the doorbell.

The door swung open. My smile shattered.

Standing there in casual loungewear was Roman. We just stared at each other in stunned silence.

Roman blinked, clearly trying to fish my real name out of his memory. "Fallon? Are you looking for me?"

My brain short-circuited. I lost the ability to form words.

"II'm here to tutor a kid," I stammered, instantly taking a huge step back. "Sorry, wrong house!" I spun around, ready to sprint for my life.

Roman's eyes widened a fraction as the pieces clicked together. "Wait. Don't run."

My feet glued themselves to the porch. I looked back at him.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Who's the club owner to you?"

Still totally lost, I answered honestly. "My sister."

"No wonder the bouncers shadowed us to the door when I took you out of there," Roman muttered, more to himself than to me.

It finally clicked. My eyes went wide. "You know my sister?"

Roman nodded. I opened my mouth to fire off a dozen more questions, but he stepped aside, leaving the doorway clear. "Come inside first. It's freezing out there."

Seriously, what were the odds? After a very confusing back-and-forth, we finally established the facts. Roman and my sister were old friends from their time studying abroad. She had invited his crew to the club that night to hang out, right as I decided to make an absolute fool of myself in front of him.

And now, watching Roman pour me a glass of water in his kitchen, I couldn't help but marvel at how ridiculously small the world was. My sister had promised to tutor his little sister, and then pawned the job off on me.

Perfect. A complete, bizarre loop that was frying my last remaining brain cells.

Roman slid the glass across the counter toward me, gesturing for me to warm up.

I stared at the glass for a long moment before my curiosity won out. "Roman, aren't you a genius? Why do you need my sister to tutor her?"

He was the absolute god of the Comp Sci department. Everyone knew that.

Roman dropped onto the sofa, massaging his temples. "The kid never listens to a word I say."

That actually tracked. I remembered how my sister used to try to help me with math when we were younger; I usually ended up making her want to pull her hair out.

He paused, his gaze softening slightly. "You don't need to be so tense around me. Just use my name."

Right. Hearing him say that reminded me he was still just a PhD student. He couldn't be that much older than me.

I was about to say something else when the front door banged open. A young girl in a school uniform skipped in. The second her eyes landed on Roman, the bright smile vanished from her face.

"Hi, Roman," Sadie mumbled, instantly stiffening.

After a quick round of introductions, Sadie and I headed upstairs for her lesson.

The vibe in her room was amazing. She was the complete opposite of her brother. She was wildly energetic.

She started out calling me 'Miss Fallon,' but within twenty minutes, she was just calling me 'big sister.' Seriously, no one understands how validating that is. Being the youngest in my family, I had spent my entire life dreaming of having a little sister.

The time flew by. When the alarm on my phone finally buzzed, I was actually disappointed we had to stop.

Sadie and I joked around the whole way down the stairs, already locking in our plans for next week.

Chapter 5

Roman was still lounging on the living room sofa, totally engrossed in a book. He hadn't left.

At the sound of our footsteps on the stairs, he lifted his head. I couldn't snap my gaze away fast enough, and our eyes locked.

The soft fabric of his loungewear smoothed out his usual sharp, untouchable edge, making him look surprisingly approachable. He crossed the room and handed me a glass of water. "Good work."

My stomach was still doing flips around him. I kept my eyes glued to the glass, taking tiny, measured sips.

Roman checked his watch and pushed himself up from the sofa. "Let's go. It's getting late. I'll drive you back to campus."

Sadie blinked up at him. "Roman, why are you still here? Don't you have to swipe into the lab tonight?"

Roman paused for a beat. "It's on my way. I figured I'd wait."

He waited for me? A strange rush of heat bloomed in my chest. For a guy who walked around with a ten-foot ice wall, he was unexpectedly considerate.

Sadie and I had totally hit it off, and she begged to tag along for the ride. A few minutes later, the three of us piled into Roman's car.

Sadie and I talked non-stop the entire drive. Roman kept his eyes locked on the road, wrapped in his usual silence, only dropping a brief syllable whenever one of us dragged him into the conversation.

No wonder your sister is terrified of you, I thought, gripping the seatbelt. You're practically a glacier.

We were right in the middle of laughing at a joke when Sadie suddenly gasped. She whipped out her phone flashlight and shined it down into the gap between the seats.

I leaned over, squinting into the dark crevice.

A thick textbook was jammed into the tight space, mangled and bent out of shape.

"Roman!" Sadie practically yelled. "Why did you shove a book down here?"

Honestly, I was wondering the exact same thing. My roommates had told me Roman treated textbooks like sacred artifacts. A neat freak like him would never thrash a book like that.

Roman frowned, shooting a quick glance in the rearview mirror. "Pull it out. Let's see what it is."

With his permission, Sadie and I braced ourselves and yanked the trapped book free. We flipped it over. The harsh beam of the flashlight hit the cover, and my blood ran cold.

Sadie squinted at the cover, sounding out the title slowly. "Mathematical Analysis Problem Set. Is this a college book?"

If my memory served me right, that atrocious chicken-scratch handwriting scrawled across the top belonged to me.

The realization hit Roman a second later. A low, raspy chuckle vibrated through the car. "Yeah. It's a college book."

Sadie frowned, thoroughly confused. "Whose is it? It looks like whoever owned it really hated it."

Please, sweet Sadie, stop asking. A cold sweat broke out across my back. The humiliating memories of that night came crashing back, hitting me like a freight train.

Chapter 6

That night when he drove me back to campus, delivering a whole lecture about taking my studies seriously, I had gotten so annoyed I jammed the textbook straight into the seat gap. Out of sight, out of mind. No wonder I hadn't been able to find the damn thing all week.

Roman couldn't hold back a low chuckle, his voice dripping with amusement. "Yeah. Looks like the owner absolutely despises the subject."

I dug my nails into my palms. Enough. Please stop talking. Sure, I hated it back then, but I was a completely reformed student now!

Sadie moved to flip the cover open. Panic spiked in my chest. I snatched the heavy book right out of her hands before she could spot my messy handwriting.

"I actually think I know who this belongs to," I blurted out. "I'll make sure to return it to her."

She blinked, her sharp little mind instantly catching the plot hole. "You know her? Then why is her book wedged in Roman's car?"

Kids these days were impossible to fool.

Seeing my terrible cover-up crumbling in real time, I had to bite the bullet. "Because Roman knows her too."

I shot a desperate, pleading glare at him. My brain completely short-circuited, and my voice cracked up an octave. "Right, Roman?"

Romans long fingers tapped an erratic rhythm against the leather steering wheel. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating.

Terrified he was going to throw me under the bus, I opened my mouth to babble another excuse. He cleared his throat. "Yeah," he muttered, his voice unusually tight. "I know her."

I could have kissed his feet right then and there. He had actually spared my life.

Sadie tilted her head, her eyes narrowing as she tried to piece the puzzle together. But my luck had officially run dry. A printed photo Id secretly snapped of Romans back at the clubtucked between the pages as a bookmarkslipped out and fluttered onto the center console.

Sadie snatched it up instantly. She studied the photo, then looked between the two of us, her radar pinging at the heavy, guilty silence.

Her eyes lit up like fireworks. "Roman!" she squealed. "Is this my future sister-in-laws book?!"

My heart slammed against my ribs. I practically launched myself into the roof of the car, waving my hands frantically. "No! Absolutely not!"

Roman visibly stiffened, blindsided by her logic. He kept his eyes glued to the windshield, his voice flat and controlled. "No."

Sadie took one look at our synchronized panic and flashed a knowing, wicked little smirk. She didn't press any further.

For the rest of the drive, I was totally zoned out, nodding along to whatever Sadie was saying. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the profile of Romans face in the driver's seat. Maybe it was just the glow of the streetlights, but the tips of his ears looked suspiciously flushed.

Thank God we finally pulled up to the campus gates. I had never been so happy to see those ugly brick pillars in my life. I shoved the car door open before he even put it in park, tossing a breathless "See ya!" over my shoulder as I bolted into the night.

I paced laps around the dark track field until my racing pulse finally leveled out. Only then did I drag my exhausted body back to the dorms.

The second I pushed the door open, my roommate was already deep in a gossip session about Roman. She had her laptop balanced on her knees, her eyes gleaming. "Hey, the campus god was acting totally off in the lab tonight."

I tossed my bag onto my desk, pretending to organize my things, but my ears were practically swiveling toward her. She caught my fake nonchalance but mercifully didn't call me out.

"Rumor has it," she sang out, "he kept messing up his code. Like, total rookie errors. His entire monitor was bleeding red errors."

My carefully calmed heart instantly kicked back into overdrive, hammering frantically against my ribs.

Chapter 7

I had no idea what was wrong with me, but my face was burning hot.

My roommate studied me for a solid ten seconds before raising an eyebrow. "Damn, who wrote an error code on your face? You're completely flushed."

Stop talking. I'm going to die.

I mumbled some garbage excuse about the freezing wind outside, bolted for the bathroom to wash up, and buried myself under my blankets. My brain refused to shut off, looping an imaginary scene of Roman staring blankly at a monitor bleeding red errors.

I was officially losing my mind.

It took me a whole week to scrape my sanity back together. But then Friday rolled around again. I hesitated on his front porch, a sudden wave of panic nailing my feet to the floorboards.

What if I ran into him again? After last week's disaster, I had zero clue how to act around him.

I was literally muttering to myself when a familiar voice drifted from behind me.

"Why aren't you going in?"

I whipped around. Roman was standing just a few feet away. I had no idea how long he'd been watching me.

My nerves were already fried, and his sudden appearance short-circuited my brain completely. "Because I don't have a key."

Ahhh! What kind of garbage response was that? Am I brain-dead?!

Roman blinked, clearly choked up by my sheer stupidity, though technically, I wasn't wrong. He closed the distance between us and slid his key into the lock. "I have one. You can come in now."

The door swung open, and a blast of heated air hit my face, instantly fogging up my glasses. I blindly trailed after Roman into the hallway, squinting through the white haze trying to figure out where I was stepping.

I don't know what my heels caught on, but I completely lost my balance and pitched violently forward. In a blind panic, I gripped his arm like a lifeline. Even through the fabric of his shirt, I could feel the instant, rock-hard tension of his muscles. The sheer momentum dragged him down with me, and we slammed hard against the hallway wall.

"Careful."

His low, raspy voice vibrated right next to my ear. I tilted my head up. The fog on my lenses slowly began to clear, and Roman's face materialized in front of me like a painting coming into focus. It wasn't until my gaze locked onto his dark, unreadable eyes that my brain finally rebooted.

My heart hammered against my ribs, out of control.

"Sorry." I ripped my hands away from his arm and jumped back a full three feet. But then a terrifying thought hit mewhat if bracing my fall had messed up his prosthetic leg?

Before my common sense could kick in, my hands shot right back out, grabbing onto his arms to steady him.

Roman stared down at me, a flicker of amusement breaking through his stoic expression.

What the hell am I doing?! I had just launched myself away from him, only to lunge right back to grab him. Letting go now would make it ten times weirder.

While I was internally panicking, the front door clicked open and Sadie bounded inside. From her angle, it looked exactly like I was intimately holding hands with Roman.

Chapter 8