Groomed For The Billionaire

Distance

Sofia groaned, blinking against the early morning light that leaked through the curtains. Her head throbbed slightly, she rolled over, her hair splayed across the pillow like a messy halo, and tried to summon the energy to face the day. Not that she had much of a choice.

When she finally pushed herself upright, the smell of coffee or was it burnt toast? wafted from the living room. Her grogginess didn’t improve when she saw Jasmine already on her phone, pacing, gesturing wildly, and arguing in a way that immediately set Sofia’s teeth on edge.

“…I told you, I don’t care what you think, I’m not paying for that! Do you hear me?!” Jasmine’s voice cracked, angry and incredulous, her free hand slamming against the kitchen counter.

Sofia rolled her eyes, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders as she stumbled past the doorway. It was the same argument they’d had a hundred times before, and the same one she knew she’d be annoyed by until it was over.

“You’re still talking to him?” she asked, her voice dry, a mix of disbelief and judgment.

Jasmine waved her phone at Sofia without looking up. “Of course! Someone has to put him in his place. He’s crazy, but he he’s my crazy.”

Sofia bit back a sharp comment. She’d learned long ago that arguing about personal choices rarely worked on someone like Jasmine. Still, she couldn’t stop herself from thinking, why would anyone stay with that man? He’s broke, arrogant, abusive… a total nutcase.

“He just… took money from my account. Without asking.” Jasmine’s face flushed pink, embarrassment peeking through her usual bravado. She leaned against the fridge, her fingers gripping the handle.

Sofia froze in the kitchen, cereal bowl in hand. “Wait, he what?”

“Yeah, last time we… well, you know… paid for some stuff, I had to let him use my card. I didn’t think he’d just…” Her words faltered, and she sighed, letting the phone drop to the counter.

Sofia’s jaw tightened. She couldn’t believe it. A girl like Jasmine, beautiful, confident, someone who could command attention with a smile was still allowing herself to be dominated by some deadbeat man. And worse, more than half of the money she made went straight into his pockets. Who does that? Sofia thought, the frustration rolling like a storm in her chest.

“Why are you letting him do that?” Sofia asked, trying to keep her voice steady. She set the cereal bowl down and rinsed her plate, her movements precise, almost mechanical.

“I… I don’t know.” Jasmine’s voice softened, a mixture of guilt and stubborn pride. “I guess… I just… he’s not that bad. Sometimes.”

Sofia laughed bitterly under her breath. “Sometimes? Jasmine, he’s taking your money and you’re defending him?”

Jasmine shrugged, a sheepish smile crossing her face. “Hey, it’s complicated.”

Sofia shook her head, feeling exasperation rise like bile. She didn’t want to fight, but she couldn’t help thinking about the waste of potential Jasmine, with all her charm and beauty, trapped by some selfish man.

“Girl,” Sofia muttered, dropping into a chair at the kitchen table. “You have no idea how lucky you are to be you. Gorgeous, smart, capable and you’re letting him manipulate you? Half your life in his hands while you work your ass off at the club? Do you even see it?”

Jasmine’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I… I see it, okay? But… I don’t know how to fix it.”

Sofia felt a pang of something she couldn’t name. Compassion? Frustration? Both? She stared at her friend, the bowl of cereal forgotten. “You don’t fix it by letting him walk all over you. You take your power back, Jasmine. Every single time.”

Jasmine’s eyes dropped to the counter, and for a moment, Sofia thought she might actually take the advice to heart. But then she laughed, a little too loud, a little too sharp, deflecting the weight of Sofia’s words.

“Alright, Miss Teacher. I get it. You’re all righteous and stuff. But it’s my mess, my choice.”

Sofia sighed, feeling the familiar tension settle in her chest. She didn’t have the energy to argue any further. Some lessons you can’t teach, she reminded herself.

With a final nod, she excused herself. “Fine. Enjoy your morning soap opera. I’m going back to my room.”

Jasmine rolled her eyes but didn’t protest as Sofia retreated to her sanctuary. Three hours before she had to leave for work, three hours to escape the chaos and the noise, and to collect herself before stepping back into the world where she had to perform, survive, and navigate danger disguised as casual charm.

………

The drive to Club Mirage was quiet, the city buzzing softly in the early afternoon. Sofia’s thoughts were heavy, weaving between last night’s revelation and the ever present wariness that came from knowing who she was and who she could trust.

She dropped her bag into the locker, letting it thud softly against the metal, the sound grounding her. She changed into her uniform with practiced efficiency.

As she adjusted her outfit in the mirror, her gaze fell on Scott. His presence shifted something in her. Stern, organized, deliberate, this was no longer the man who had wooed her over dinner. This was her boss. Her powerful boss. And everything had changed.

She watched him for a moment, noting the sharp lines of his jaw, the intensity in his grey eyes as he spoke to the manager. He was focused, commanding.

Scott turned, his gaze finding hers. “Hey,” he said, approaching with a casual air that didn’t match the tension in his eyes.

Sofia’s response was cold, clipped. “Hi.”

He paused, as if sensing the frost in her tone. “Are you okay?” he asked gently, tilting his head.

“Yeah, I’m good. Why?” she replied, forcing a casual shrug, hiding the churn of emotions beneath her calm exterior.

“You seem… distant,” he observed, eyes narrowing slightly.

“I’m just worried,” she said carefully.

Scott blinked, confusion flickering over his face. “What’s wrong?”

Sofia met his gaze briefly, her jaw tightening. “I just… I want you to leave me the hell alone.” The words came out sharper than she intended, but the emotion behind them was undeniable.

He froze, stunned by the coldness in her voice. “Leave you alone? But we were fine yesterday. We talked, laughed…”

She cut him off with a shake of her head. “I just want to focus on work. That’s all. Nothing personal.”

Scott’s face softened slightly, a mix of hurt and confusion. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, unsure what to say. Her rejection, though not direct, was palpable, and it stung more than he expected.

He tried once more, his voice lower, careful. “Are you sure it’s me? Something else bothering you?”

“I’m fine,” she said, pushing past him toward the bar area. “Really. Just leave it.”

He watched her walk away, each step measured, determined, yet distant. He stood there, feeling the sharp pang of rejection and the cold reality that she might not yet trust him or anyone enough to let her guard down.

Scott’s hand clenched slightly at his side, a quiet determination rising. He would give her space, but he wouldn’t let the distance last forever. Not when he felt this pull, this connection that refused to be ignored.