The Billionaire I couldn't hate.

Isabella adjusted her notes on the polished dining table. The view of the city b

cus he had the first day they met. He didn't speak immediately, he just observed, and Is

hing," he said finally, voice low

king up. "I guess I l

on keeps chaos at bay. Sometime

.. reflective, almost personal. Isabella hesitated, wondering

he said softly. "Jus

, but enough to make her stomach tighten.

ent. She found herself thinking about how he moved, controlled, deliberate, not hasty.

la noticed that Nathaniel asked questions, not to challenge her, but to und

t. The closeness startled her. Not because it was inappropriate, it wa

k in hand. He had finished his homework faster than usua

... fun," he

ughed softl

, quiet and still, then looked

. "I just... care enough

re," he said,

he didn't know if he was speaking about her, a

the distance between them felt smaller somehow, like the moments they

this work?" he

easured, careful. "I like it enough. It's

respect that. Honesty i

was a gravity in his tone, a sense that he understood more than he

mmed softly around her, indifferent as always. And yet, she felt the faint pull of

ature notes she had brought home. The apartment was quiet, save for

aniel. She told herself it was ju

Elliot, the faint curve of his lips when he had listened carefully t

head. It's not

ory. Nothing wrong with being profes

y the floor-to-ceiling windows in his pentho

hinking

Not her job. N

t h

ettled him in a way

hat. His life was controlled, calculated, ordered. He didn't have room f

ay her brows furrowed when she concentrate

intended

gs couldn't b

ouse, her nerves quieter than before but still present. S

asked her opinion about small things-books, ideas, even trivial details about Elliot's day. How her

f firmly: this was

how many more days before she started car