The Billionaire Unexpected Evening

fin'

ute to the inexorable march of development. From my high perch above the bedlam, I view my realm, the blinking lights o

p me—the beautiful furniture, the valuable art, the state-of-the-art technology—yet they evoke no pleasure, no feeling of

me; her eyes aglitter with mirth, and her grin is a beacon of warmth amid a sea of icy indifference.

es and power. With her by my side, I dared to picture a diverging future, one full of love and laughter and the pure delights of

countenance as if I might somehow resurrect her by sheer power of will. But the vision l

other encroachment on my time and attention. I notice the name scrolling across the screen. Marcus. My right

to the phone, my tone l

l," Marcus answers, his voice laced with concern

-billion-dollar merger that might create or destroy my firm is the result of months of talks and rest

I declare tonelessly. "And Marcus

e myself to wallow in my own agony, the nothingness threatening to swallow me from inside. Howev

ne more glance at Julia's image. "Forgive me," I mutter, the w

even as I enter the elevator, the doors locking behind me with a quiet hiss, I cannot discount the feeling that someth