A Black Baker Found a Billionaire’s Lost Dog… She Never Expected This to Happen

Chapter 2

That night, Bowie scratched at a locked door.

James stood in the hallway of the mansion’s west wing, staring at the heavy oak door that hadn’t been opened in over a year. His grandmother’s study. He’d kept it sealed since her funeral—not out of sentiment, but because he didn’t know what else to do with it. Everything inside remained exactly as she’d left it: books stacked on the desk, reading glasses folded on the armrest of her favorite chair, a faint trace of her gardenia perfume still clinging to the curtains.

Bowie scratched again, more insistently this time.

“She’s not in there,” James said quietly.

The dog whined, pressing his nose against the gap beneath the door.

James unlocked it.

Bowie didn’t hesitate. He crossed the room in three strides, bypassing the desk, the bookshelves, the carefully preserved memory of a woman who’d built an empire and then tried to give it all away. He stopped at an old wooden cabinet in the corner, the kind with brass handles and drawers that stuck when you pulled them. He pawed at the lowest drawer, whining again.