Billionaires Broken Heart

Nevaeh's POV

Sunlight filtered through the gauzy curtains of Nevaeh's apartment, throwing golden patches across the pristine white bedding she'd barely slept in. She sat on the edge of her bed, her knees pulled up to her chest, clutching a brown teddy bear her dad had given her years ago. Her heart still raced with the ghost of last night's terror.

"Pull it together, Nevaeh," she muttered to herself, rocking back and forth. Her voice trembled, though she willed herself to sound steady. "Today is a big day. You can't fall apart now."

But falling apart was tempting. The events from the night before looped through her mind like a horror movie she couldn't escape from: the bedroom door crashing open, the weight of the intruder's hands on her leg, the sheer panic that had set every nerve in her body on fire. If the security team hadn't arrived when they did...

She squeezed the bear tighter, then let out a shaky breath. No. She wasn't going to let last night define her. Not when she had worked so hard to get here. Not when she had a fresh start waiting just outside her door. If she let herself stay scared, then that psycho security guard would win.

"Not happening," she said with a false bravado that even her teddy bear didn't seem to buy.

In the bathroom, Nevaeh splashed cold water on her face, the droplets clinging to her pale skin. She examined herself in the mirror: tousled blonde hair, dull blue eyes, and a complexion that had lost all its summer glow. It wasn't the look she'd hoped to debut on her first day of university.

"Great," she mumbled. "Now you look like a ghost on top of everything else."

Determined, she threw on her favorite white t-shirt and high-waisted jeans, accessorizing with a blue cardigan that gave her some semblance of warmth and comfort. The moment she looked halfway presentable, she hurried to the kitchen, her stomach growling. But the toast she made tasted like cardboard, and the coffee did little to calm her frayed nerves.

Her phone buzzed, and she jumped so hard she almost spilled her coffee. With a groan, she checked it: just a reminder from the university's orientation group chat. People were buzzing with excitement, trading tips about campus hotspots and talking about meeting up. The normalcy of it was almost laughable.

She placed her phone down and forced herself to breathe. "You can do this," she whispered. But the pep talk didn't quite sink in.

The elevator ride down felt like stepping into a pit of anxiety. The shiny, mirrored walls reflected her jittery expression back at her, and she hated it. Her mind raced with a thousand worries, but she was determined not to show it.

As the doors slid open to the bustling lobby, Nevaeh took a steadying breath and stepped out. The marble floors gleamed under the morning light, and she could see residents hurrying out to their cars, chatting or checking their watches. It should have been comforting. It wasn't.

"Miss Spencer!" A familiar voice rang out, and her heart sank.

Mr. Collins, the head of security, approached, looking like he hadn't slept a wink. The lines on his face were deeper than ever, and his eyes carried a weariness that mirrored her own.

"Good morning," he said, though his voice had none of the cheer a good morning should have.

"Morning," Nevaeh replied, her forced smile feeling more like a grimace.

Mr. Collins hesitated. "I just wanted to check in on you after... everything." He seemed genuinely remorseful. "We're so sorry for what happened. There's no excuse. Nico has been arrested, and the building's owner is furious. He insisted on coming down himself to apologize."