Filthy Rich Single Daddies (Filthy Rich Harems #2)

Filthy Rich Bosses - Preview

“Be a good girl for us.”

When I lose my job and my apartment on the same day, I’m not exactly in a position to say no to a cocky billionaire’s bold offer: move into his mansion for a month,train his unruly dog, and earn enough cash to turn my luck around.

But he failed to mention he has roommates. Gorgeous, infuriating, impossible-to-ignore roommates.

Grayson is the devastatingly handsome widower with walls thicker than steel. He is the definition of control and is wound tighter than a rubber band ready to snap.

Then there’s Chase , the flirty golden retriever who’s equal parts protective and playful. He flirts like it’s his full-time job, and I can’t help falling headfirst into his charm.

And Cole ? Intense, dominant, and devastatingly direct, he’s the man who sees every crack in my armor—and makes me want to let him in anyway.

Three powerful men. One intoxicating situation. For the first time, I have something that feels like family. But can I trust that they’ll stay when things get messy—or will I end up alone again?

Chapter 1 – Grayson

My phone is pressed to my ear as I speed through the house, trying to make it out the door in time. Juniper’s voice is a steady presence on the other end, her tone clipped but professional as always. It’s what I need right now—someone who can cut through the noise of my thoughts and keep me on track.

"Juniper, I need you to push the Markham meeting back by thirty minutes. No, scratch that—make it an hour.”

"Yes, Mr. Harrington," Juniper's eager voice chirps through the speaker. "I'll take care of it right away. Is there anything else you need?"

I suppress a sigh, clenching my jaw. "Just make sure everything else stays on track. I can't afford any more delays today."

“I’ve just confirmed your meetings for the afternoon. You’ve got an hour before the call with Kensington, and I’ve scheduled a call with Elliot Burman for two-thirty. Everything’s set, Mr. Harrington. Just don’t forget to sign off on the new contract before you go in. It’s urgent.”

“I’ll handle it,” I tell her, grabbing my keys off the table by the stairs. My thoughts are racing through the day’s tasks, prioritizing, organizing, but none of it seems to matter when I can’t find the one thing I need: time.

As I reach for the door handle, I’m stopped by yet another delay.

“Master Harrington,” Douglas says, his voice as dry as the desert. He stands there, holding a letter in one hand, his brow furrowed. He’s not one for theatrics, but the stern look on his face immediately gets my attention. “You might want to see this.”

I take the letter, a sinking feeling in my stomach. My mind is still half on Juniper’s updates, still trying to mentally process everything I need to get done today. But when I glance down at the letter, my heart sinks. It’s from my neighbor—Vivienne Smith-Baggington. And the words, written in bold, seem to stare back at me like an accusation.

“Demand for Damages and Formal Complaint: Zeus, the Harrington family dog…” The words on the page blur together, but a few phrases jump out at me: "lawsuit”, "damages", and "euthanasia”.

I feel the blood drain from my face. Zeus. Sarah's dog. The last living connection to my late wife. My mind races, searching for the right thing to do, but all I can muster is a weak, "Sarah—"

Douglas hovers uncertainly nearby. "Sir? Are you all right?"

I nod absently, already pulling out my phone. "I need to call my lawyer," I mutter, more to myself than to Douglas.

As I dial the number, my thoughts drift to Zeus. He's been different since Sarah passed, more anxious, more aggressive. But to put him down? It feels like losing her all over again.

"Carter, it’s Grayson Harrington," I say when my lawyer picks up. "I need your help. It's about my dog, Zeus." He’s not really my dog—he was always Sarah’s dog.

I look over at Zeus, lying peacefully near the kitchen, his head resting on his enormous paws. But I know how volatile he’s become. The loss of Sarah broke him just as much as it broke me. And now, it seems like it’s come to a head.

“Zeus wasn’t unprovoked,” I tell Carter, my voice strained. “But he’s…he’s not the same. He’s been unpredictable ever since Sarah—” I cut myself off. I don’t need to say her name to know the weight it carries.

There’s a pause on the other end of the line, as if Carter is gathering his thoughts. “I understand, but Grayson, we can’t risk it. If you can’t get Zeus under control, we might have no choice but to put him down. I’ll arrange for a behavioral assessment, but you need to prepare for the worst.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. A coldness settles deep in my chest as I stand frozen, the weight of it sinking in. Zeus is the last piece of Sarah I have left. The last connection to her, to everything we had. Losing him...I can’t imagine it.

“Just…do what you need to do,” I finally say, my voice rougher than I want it to be. “I’ll be in touch.”

I end the call and stand there, feeling the tightness in my chest grow. Zeus doesn’t deserve this. But then, neither do I.

I take a deep breath, running a hand through my hair as I finally realize I haven’t moved from the spot near the front door. My heart is racing now. Not just for the legal mess I’m facing, but for Zeus, for everything that’s slipping through my fingers.

“Master Harrington—”

“It’s fine, Douglas. I’m fine.”

Douglas nods, his usual sharp wit absent, replaced with a rare seriousness. “Let me know if you need anything at all.”

I don’t trust myself to say anything more, so I simply give him a terse nod. I take a deep breath, straightening my tie and smoothing down my suit jacket. It's going to be a long day, but I've faced worse. At least, that's what I tell myself as I reach for the door handle, bracing for whatever new challenge awaits me on the other side.

But when I get in my car, and my hands grip the steering wheel, something in me just…crumbles. The tears threaten to rise, but I push them down. I can’t afford to break down. I have a meeting to get to, a business to run. I can’t let this—this goddamn dog—destroy everything I’ve worked so hard to build.

But if I lose him, what’s left?

I grip the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles turning white as I stare blankly through the windshield.

I try to start the car, but my hands are shaking too much to turn the key. The weight of what just happened crashes down on me, and I let out a shaky breath.

"Damn it," I whisper, closing my eyes. "Sarah, what am I supposed to do?"

All I can see is Sarah laughing as Zeus chased his tail in the backyard, the three of us curled up on the couch during movie nights, Zeus comforting me in the days after Sarah's funeral.

"I can't lose you too, buddy," I say, my voice thick with emotion. "You're all I have left of her."

The engine hums beneath me, and for a moment, I just sit there, unable to move. My heart is still pounding, a frantic rhythm that matches my thoughts. I don’t know how to face the day anymore, how to face the people who depend on me when I can barely hold it together myself.

I close my eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath, steadying myself. I need to find a way to keep moving, even when it feels like everything is falling apart. With shaking hands, I pull out of the driveway.

Chapter 2 – Tessa

The waiting room is a cacophony of barks, meows, and anxious pet owners. It’s like a little concert of fur friends.

I weave through the crowd, my arms full of charts and a stethoscope dangling around my neck. The phone at the front desk rings incessantly, and I catch Sabrina's harried glance as she juggles multiple lines.

"Tessa, can you handle intake?" she calls out, her voice strained. "We're swamped up here."

I nod, already heading toward the scale in the corner. "On it. Send 'em back."

A golden retriever bounds up to me, nearly knocking me over in its excitement. I can't help but grin as I scratch behind its ears.

"Hey there, big guy. Let's see how much you weigh, huh?"

As I coax the dog onto the scale, I notice the owner tapping her foot impatiently. I try to push down my annoyance. Why are some people such assholes?

"Sixty-nine pounds," I announce, jotting it down on the chart. "Right this way, please."

I lead them to an exam room, my mind already on the next patient. It's days like these that make me question why I didn't just open a shelter instead of working in a clinic. At least then I'd only have to deal with the animals. Unfortunately, running an animal shelter doesn't pay the bills.

As I catch sight of a trembling chihuahua in the arms of an elderly woman, I remember why I'm here. These pets need me, even if their owners sometimes drive me up the wall.

I call out the next name on my list—Morgan Blaise—plastering on my best professional smile. It's going to be a long day, but for the animals, it's worth it.

Morgan snatches up her dog’s leash and storms over, her heels clicking aggressively against the linoleum floor. A small, fluffy dog trots at her side, its leash pulled taut.

"It's about time," she snaps, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. "I've been waiting for ages."

I bite my tongue, reminding myself that it's not the dog's fault its owner is a piece of shit. "I apologize for the wait. If you could please place your dog on the scale?"

She rolls her eyes but complies, practically dropping the poor thing onto the metal surface. I wince internally, my heart aching for the little white fluffball.

As I record the weight, something catches my eye. Despite the abundant fur, there's a noticeable dip in the dog's sides. I frown, double-checking the numbers.

"Hmm," I mutter, more to myself than to the impatient woman tapping her foot beside me.

"What?" she demands, her tone dripping with irritation.

I choose my words carefully, knowing how some owners can react. "Your dog seems to be a bit underweight for its size and breed. Have there been any changes in his appetite recently?"

The woman's ice-blue eyes narrow dangerously. I can practically see the storm brewing behind them, and I brace myself for the inevitable outburst. But I won't back down—not when an animal's health is at stake.

“Are you accusing me of starving my dog? Really? Do I look like someone who would do that?”

I make a note that the dog is underweight and bite my tongue. It’s not my place. It’s not my place. It’s not your freaking place, Tessa.

I take a deep breath as I lead the woman into the exam room. I’m ready to move on to the standard pre-appointment questions, when the woman suddenly grabs her dog. In one swift, rough motion, she hoists the poor creature onto the examination table. A terrified yelp escapes the poor thing, but it quickly flinches and cowers when mommy dearest shoots him a look that could curdle milk.

"There. Can we get on with this?" she snaps, her manicured nails tapping impatiently on the metal surface.

My heart races, adrenaline spiking through my system. The way she manhandled that sweet pup...it's all I can do not to physically put myself between them.

The dog moves toward the edge of the exam table and the woman snatches it by the collar and drags it back, pushing it down onto the metal surface roughly.

"Hey!" I bark, my voice sharper than I intended. "Please be careful with your dog. There's no need to be so rough.

"The woman's eyes flash with obvious anger, and I know I've crossed a line. But I can't bring myself to care. All I can think about is protecting the innocent animal.

"Excuse me?" she hisses, leaning in close. Her perfume is cloying, almost suffocating. "Who do you think you are to tell me how to handle my own dog?"

I stand my ground, meeting her gaze. "I'm the vet technician responsible for your pet's wellbeing in this clinic. And right now, I'm concerned about the way you're treating him."

She laughs, a harsh, bitter sound that makes my skin crawl. "Oh, honey. You have no idea who you're dealing with. I could have your job for this."

I swallow hard, knowing she might be right. But the trembling pup on the table steels my resolve. Some things are worth fighting for.

The woman's eyes narrow to slits as she takes a menacing step toward me. My heart pounds, but I refuse to back down. Suddenly, the leash pulls taut as she steps toward me, and time seems to stand still as her dog loses his balance.

"No!" I gasp, lunging forward.My hands reach out, barely managing to catch the dog before he tumbles to the hard floor. Relief floods through me as I cradle him against my chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I snap at the woman, anger and fear making my voice tremble. "You could have seriously hurt him!"

Her face contorts with rage. "How dare you! This is your fault. If you hadn't distracted me—"

" My fault?" I interrupt, incredulous. I gently set the dog back on the table, keeping a protective hand on his back. "You're the one who—"

"Listen here, you little—" she snarls, advancing on me with clenched fists.

The exam room door swings open, and Dr. Hartley walks in, his eyes widening as he takes in the scene.

"What's going on here?" he asks, looking between us.

I open my mouth to explain, but the woman beats me to it.

"Finally, someone with actual authority," she sneers. "Your employee here has been completely unprofessional..."

As she launches into her tirade, I can only stand there, my hand still resting on her dog's trembling form, wondering how this situation spiraled so far out of control.

I watch in disbelief as Dr. Hartley's expression morphs from concern to disapproval, his gaze shifting between the irate woman and me. My heart races, and I struggle to find my voice.

"Dr. Hartley, I—" I start, but he cuts me off with a raised hand.

"Tessa, I think it's best if you step out for a moment," he says, his tone clipped.

Reluctantly, I leave the exam room, my legs feeling like lead. The hallway seems to close in around me as I lean against the wall, trying to process what just happened. Minutes tick by, each one feeling like an eternity.

Finally, Dr. Hartley emerges, his face grim. "Tessa, we need to talk."

I follow him to his office, my stomach in knots. As soon as the door closes, he turns to me with a heavy sigh.

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to let you go," he says.

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. "What? But Dr. Hartley, that woman was—"

"I understand there are two sides to every story," he interrupts, "but we can't afford to lose clients over altercations like this. I'm truly sorry, Tessa."

I leave the clinic in a daze, barely registering the sympathetic glances from my now-former coworkers. The drive home is a blur, and before I know it, I'm unlocking my front door.

Lulu greets me with her usual enthusiasm, her tail wagging furiously. I drop to my knees, burying my face in her soft fur.

"At least I've still got you, girl," I murmur, fighting back tears.

After a few moments, I stand up, grabbing Lulu's leash. "Come on, let's go to the park. I need to clear my head."

The familiar path to the dog park helps calm my racing thoughts. As Lulu bounds ahead, I try to focus on the warm sun on my face and the gentle breeze rustling the leaves.

"What am I going to do now?" I wonder aloud, watching Lulu chase a butterfly.

"Talking to yourself?" a deep voice asks, sending a jolt of surprise through me.

I turn quickly, startled, and find myself facing a man sitting on the bench just behind me. He’s striking—extremely handsome, in a way that catches me off guard. His chiseled features seem like they belong in a magazine ad: strong jawline, high cheekbones, and a straight nose that gives him a rugged yet refined look. His dark hair is neatly styled, just the slightest hint of gray at his temples adding a touch of maturity to his otherwise youthful face.

He’s dressed impeccably in a perfectly tailored suit, sharp and professional, though something about the way he holds himself makes it clear that he’s used to making an impression.

He’s the kind of man who stands out without even trying—tall, with a presence that seems to fill the space around him, though he sits relaxed, his posture effortlessly confident. His blue eyes catch mine—piercing, almost unnerving, but there’s something warm in them, a mix of amusement and something else, something that feels like concern.

His eyes flicker to the dogs running around, then back to me, studying my face. There’s a calmness to him. I feel like he’s the type of man who sees right through you, who can read your intentions before you even know what you want. It’s unsettling and strangely comforting at the same time.

The way he’s looking at me, the way his features remain unreadable despite the warmth in his gaze, makes me wonder if he’s been through something similar. But I don’t ask. It’s easier to keep my thoughts to myself, to keep my walls up.

"Rough day?" he asks, his voice low and gentle, like he’s trying to make sure I’m all right without prying too much.

I blink, momentarily lost in the intensity of his gaze. I can’t seem to look away, even though part of me wants to. There's something about him—something commanding that makes me feel small, vulnerable, but not in a threatening way. It’s more like he’s someone who’s seen a lot, someone who understands.

I let out a bitter laugh. "You could say that."

He watches me for a moment longer, and I wonder if he’s trying to figure out what my deal is, or if he can sense the weight of my frustration just beneath the surface. Then, as if deciding that’s enough, he shifts his gaze to Lulu, still chasing the butterfly. His expression softens, just a little, as though the dog’s antics are enough to distract him from whatever’s going on with me.

The silence between us is comfortable but heavy, like we’re both lost in our own thoughts.

I know I can’t linger in this moment for long. I’ve got things to do, and the last thing I need is to be sidetracked by some stranger with blue eyes that are too knowing for comfort.

I look back to Lulu, focusing on her as she darts around the enclosure. Stepping away from the man, I put my focus back on what matters: Lulu.

“Come, Lulu,” I say, infusing authority in my voice. Lulu immediately obeys as she always does. The sound of her paws pattering against the ground is soothing, grounding me back to reality.

I give her a treat from my pocket and start working through the commands we’ve been practicing. All the while, I can feel the man’s eyes on me.