Alone with the Billionaire
853 Words
Chapter 2 — Alone with the Billionaire
I stood frozen for several seconds after Adrian disappeared.
Did he really just ask for me?
My manager grabbed my arm so hard I winced.
“What did you do?” he whispered harshly.
“I… I don’t know.”
His face was pale.
“You better not mess this up, Priya.”
Mess this up?
As if I hadn’t already.
I tightened my grip around the tray while Adrian’s handkerchief remained wrapped around my injured palm.
The soft fabric still carried a faint masculine scent—clean, expensive, impossible to ignore.
Why did that bother me?
“Go,” my manager ordered.
My legs suddenly felt weak.
The walk to the private dining floor felt longer than usual.
Each step made my heartbeat louder.
I tried to calm myself.
Maybe he just wanted another coffee.
Maybe that was all.
Then why private dining?
Why me?
Why had he noticed my cut?
Questions kept circling in my head.
By the time I reached the VIP floor, my hands were sweating.
The hallway here was silent.
Too silent.
Thick carpets swallowed every footstep.
Crystal lights glowed warmly from the ceiling.
Everything screamed wealth.
Power.
Control.
I stopped outside Suite 01.
Adrian Knight’s suite.
My breathing turned uneven.
I raised my hand to knock.
Before my knuckles touched the door—
“Come in.”
His voice came from inside.
Deep.
Calm.
Commanding.
I froze.
How did he know I was here?
I pushed the door open slowly.
The suite was massive.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked all of Westbridge.
Leather furniture.
Dark wood.
Minimal design.
Everything about the room reflected him.
Cold elegance.
Adrian stood near the window, one hand in his pocket.
His suit jacket was gone.
His white shirt clung slightly to his broad shoulders.
I immediately lowered my gaze.
Why was I noticing that?
Focus, Priya.
I stepped inside and placed the fresh coffee on the table.
“Your coffee, sir.”
Silence.
I waited.
Still nothing.
The quiet stretched.
Too long.
Finally, he spoke.
“Why were you crying?”
I blinked.
That was not what I expected.
I slowly looked up.
His sharp eyes were fixed on me.
“I wasn’t—”
“You were.”
No hesitation.
No softness.
Just certainty.
I swallowed.
My fingers tightened.
“It’s personal.”
He walked toward me.
One step.
Then another.
My pulse spiked.
He stopped dangerously close.
Close enough for me to feel his presence surrounding me.
Close enough that breathing became difficult.
“Your mother,” he said.
My eyes widened.
“What?”
“You mentioned a hospital.”
His gaze sharpened.
“What happened to her?”
I stared at him.
Why did he care?
Men like Adrian Knight didn’t ask about people like me.
They didn’t notice us.
Yet here he was.
Waiting.
Something in his expression unsettled me.
Not pity.
Not curiosity alone.
It felt… intentional.
I looked away.
“She’s sick.”
“How sick?”
I bit my lip.
I shouldn’t tell him.
He was a stranger.
A powerful stranger.
But something about the way he watched me made lying impossible.
“She needs surgery.”
The words felt heavy leaving my mouth.
“I’m trying to save enough money.”
My voice cracked on the last sentence.
Embarrassment burned through me.
I hated sounding helpless.
Adrian’s gaze softened—just slightly.
“How much?”
I stiffened.
“No.”
One word.
Too fast.
Too defensive.
His brow lifted.
“No?”
“I don’t want charity.”
That surprised him.
I could see it.
Most people probably rushed to take whatever Adrian offered.
But I couldn’t.
Poverty had taken many things from me.
I wouldn’t let it take my dignity too.
His eyes remained on me.
Long.
Unreadable.
Then—
Unexpectedly—
He smiled.
A real smile.
Small.
Brief.
But devastating.
My breath caught.
He looked unfairly handsome when he smiled.
Dangerously so.
“Interesting,” he murmured.
My cheeks warmed.
“What?”
“You’re the first person in a long time who refused my money.”
I frowned.
“Is that supposed to impress me?”
The words escaped before I could stop them.
Silence.
Oh no.
Oh no.
What did I just say?
My face burned.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean—”
Adrian laughed.
Actually laughed.
Low and rich.
The sound stunned me more than anything else tonight.
The infamous Adrian Knight…
Was laughing because of me.
I stared at him.
Speechless.
His gaze locked onto mine.
Then the laughter disappeared.
The air changed.
Something heavy settled between us.
His voice dropped.
“Priya.”
My name sounded different coming from him.
Too intimate.
Too dangerous.
“Yes?”
He stepped closer.
Again.
My back nearly touched the table.
My heart pounded wildly.
I couldn’t move.
Couldn’t think.
His eyes dropped briefly to my lips.
Then returned to my eyes.
Every nerve in my body came alive.
And then he asked the one question I wasn’t prepared for.
“Why do I feel like meeting you wasn’t an accident?”
- Writer
