Two-The Billionaire with No Mercy
550 Words
I didn’t know what was worse—his ruined suit or the way he was staring at me, like he could see straight into my soul.
The crowd around us whispered, curious, judgmental. To them, I was just a clumsy girl who’d bumped into the wrong man. To me, he was a storm wrapped in Armani.
“I don’t have time for this,” I muttered, clutching the empty cup like a shield. “I already apologized—”
“Not enough.” His voice was low, dangerous. “Do you always run through life wrecking things you can’t afford to fix?”
My cheeks burned. “I said I’ll pay for the cleaning.”
His lips curved in a humorless smirk. “You couldn’t afford the button on this jacket, sweetheart.”
The word rolled off his tongue like an insult. Sweetheart.
I bristled, straightening my shoulders. “Fine. Then sue me. Or fire me. Or whatever it is men like you do when their precious suits get dirty.”
His eyes narrowed, glinting like steel. “Men like me?”
“Yes.” I crossed my arms, though my pulse was racing. “The arrogant type. The ones who think money makes them gods.”
For a moment, silence hung between us. Then, unexpectedly, he chuckled. Not kindly—more like I’d just handed him a challenge.
“You’ve got a sharp tongue,” he said, his gaze drifting over me, slow and deliberate. “Most people would be begging for forgiveness by now.”
“I’m not most people.”
Something flickered in his expression—interest, maybe? Or hunger. It was gone before I could name it.
He stepped even closer, invading my space until I had to tilt my chin up to meet his eyes. “Remember this moment,” he murmured, so only I could hear. “Because it’s the beginning of something you can’t walk away from.”
I shivered, though it wasn’t cold.
Before I could answer, a sleek black car pulled up to the curb. The driver hurried out, bowing his head. “Mr. Steele, the board is waiting.”
Mr. Steele.
The name hit me like lightning. Alexander Steele. CEO of Steele Enterprises. Billionaire. Ruthless. The man who practically owned half the city.
And I’d just ruined his suit.
My stomach dropped.
He turned back to me, sliding off the stained jacket and handing it to his driver without a glance. “Find out her name,” he ordered coolly.
The driver blinked. “Sir?”
“You heard me.” His eyes never left mine. “I don’t like debts. And she owes me.”
Panic flared in my chest. “I don’t owe you anything!”
But he only smirked, like a predator who’d just caught the scent of prey.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he said softly, before sliding into his car, “you owe me more than you’ll ever realize.”
The door shut. The car pulled away, leaving me trembling on the sidewalk, my heart pounding with fear—and something else I didn’t want to name.
Because for the first time in my life, I felt it…
I had caught the attention of a man like Alexander Steele.
And men like him didn’t let go.
- Writer
