The Billionaire I Never Saw Coming

Virelle’s Pov I almost didn’t come out that morning. The past few weeks had been one long stretch of delayed shipments, unanswered emails, and suppliers who kept saying 'next week' as if it were a promise instead of an excuse. I told myself coffee would help. It always did. Or at least it pretended to. Ćafe Solelii was already busy when I walked in. The familiar smell of roasted beans and warm pastries wrapped around me, but it didn’t soften the tight knot in my chest. I scanned the room out of habit, then headed straight for the counter. “Just my usual,” I said to the barista. Forcing a polite smile. My usual was simple, black coffee, no sugar, strong enough to make mornings tolerable. The barista nodded, already juggling three other orders, and I waited, tapping my fingers impatiently on the counter. While waiting, my phone buzzed. Amaris: “You’re up early. That never means good news.” I exhaled through my nose, typing back with one hand. “Suppliers are acting funny again🤦‍♀️” Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Amaris: “Oh, babes, they still haven’t delivered... so incompetent.” I sighed and typed back, “Coffee first and complaints later.” I slid the phone back into my bag just as my order was called. Latte in one hand, my handbag in the other, I turned around, maybe too fast, and clearly walked straight into someone. The impact was solid. The cup tilted. Hot coffee splashed against my jacket, my hand, and down the front of my trousers. For a second, everything stopped. Then the burn hit. “Oh,” the man said as I gasped. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking..ar…are you okay?” I laughed, stared down at myself, at the spreading stain, at the way this day had officially crossed into ridiculous. Something inside me snapped-not loudly, but “Does it look like I am?” I said, annoyed, still glaring at my trousers The words came out harsher than I intended, but I didn’t soften them. Not today. Not after weeks of fixing other people’s mistakes, apologizing for delays that weren’t mine, pretending I wasn’t exhausted. He grabbed a napkin from the counter, clearly unsure whether to say more. “I really am sorry,” he said again, quieter this time. I nodded once, not trusting myself to speak without saying something I’d regret. My chest felt tight — not because of him, but because the day had just begun. “I’m fine,” I said, even though I clearly wasn’t. My voice came out tight, clipped. I looked up then. He was tall. That was the first thing I noticed—though right now, I didn’t care. He looked calm, too calm, like spilling coffee on him was no big deal. His expression was apologetic, sure, but it only wanted to make me scream. “I really am sorry,” he said again. “Let me—” “I said I’m fine!” I interrupted, already stepping back. I didn’t wait for his response. I didn’t trust myself to stay polite if I did. I grabbed my bag and my now-useless coffee and walked away before my frustration could spill out as severely as the coffee had. Outside, the air was cooler. I exhaled, long and slow, forcing myself to reset Then Amaris’s text Amaris: “So? Did coffee save the world?” I replied, “Girl, please.” I almost laughed. Almost.