Mr Billionaire's 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."

"The owner?" Nevaeh echoed, her brows lifting in surprise. The owner of the building was Aiden Klein, the reclusive, ridiculously wealthy CEO who was rumored to be as handsome as he was ruthless. The kind of man whose mere presence made people either fawn or run for cover.

"Yes," Mr. Collins said, looking down at his clipboard. "He'll be here shortly. He's not one to let things slide."

Nevaeh swallowed hard. An apology from a billionaire sounded intimidating, to say the least. "That's really not necessary," she said. "I just... I want to move on."

Mr. Collins gave her a sad, understanding nod. "Of course. But if you ever need anything..."

"I'll let you know," Nevaeh promised. She offered him a polite nod and hurried toward the glass doors, desperate for air.

Outside, the city buzzed with life. Traffic blared, people laughed, and a street musician played an upbeat tune that clashed with the storm still raging in Nevaeh's chest. She took a deep breath, letting the brisk air sting her lungs, hoping it might clear her head.

"Fresh start," she reminded herself. "New day."

But fate, as it turned out, had other plans.

A sleek black car pulled up to the curb with the kind of smoothness that screamed luxury. The back door opened, and out stepped a man who commanded the entire sidewalk's attention. Aiden Klein.

Nevaeh had heard about him, seen his face in business magazines and whispered about in news articles. But seeing him in person was... something else. He was tall, with a lean, athletic build that his tailored gray suit couldn't quite hide. His dark brown hair was perfectly styled, not a strand out of place, and his amber eyes scanned the street like he was searching for a target. Or a victim.

He looked exactly like someone who had conquered the world and wasn't impressed by it anymore. And right now, he looked furious.

Nevaeh tried not to stare, but it was impossible not to. She turned her attention back to the street, hoping to disappear into the crowd. But just as she was about to cross, a sudden commotion made her stop in her tracks.

A dog walker with a half-dozen unruly leashes had lost control of her charges. Three fluffy dogs broke free, yipping and racing in all directions. One tiny, ferociously determined Pomeranian headed straight for Aiden.

What happened next was a spectacle.

Aiden, the billionaire known for striking fear into the hearts of CEOs and investment moguls, stumbled back as the tiny dog launched itself at his polished leather shoes. His commanding presence vanished, replaced by a look of utter disbelief. He hopped back, trying to fend off the dog without dropping his leather briefcase.

Nevaeh's mouth fell open, and before she could stop herself, laughter burst out of her. Loud, uncontrollable laughter that echoed across the street. Her fear, her nerves, the tension-it all melted away in that one absurd moment. The terrifying, all-powerful Aiden Klein being taken down by a dog the size of a handbag.

Aiden's head snapped up, his amber eyes locking onto her. His expression went from shocked to... something else. Something unreadable.

Nevaeh's laughter died in her throat, and her face went beet red. Oh no. Oh no, oh no. She had just laughed-out loud-at one of the most powerful men in the city.

"Sorry," she squeaked, clutching her bag to her chest like a shield. Before he could react, she turned and practically sprinted down the street, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment.

The city noise swallowed her up, but she could feel his gaze on her back long after she'd turned the corner. Great. Just fantastic. One night of terror and a morning of humiliation. If this was what living in Seattle was going to be like, she was in for a wild ride.