Billionaire's cold love

‎ ‎The shrill ring of my alarm clock came too late—or maybe I was too tired to hear it the first three times. My eyes fluttered open at 7:45 a.m. My shift had started at seven. ‎ ‎Not again. ‎ ‎I groaned, stumbling out of bed. My head throbbed from last night’s part-time job at the bakery. Three hours of sleep was barely enough for survival, let alone for a nurse expected to endure twelve hours of nonstop duty with a smile. ‎ ‎I wasn’t even surprised. Every night, Mom either banged at my door demanding money or shrieked over the phone with one of her lovers. Peace didn’t live in that house. If I ever woke up early, it was nothing short of a miracle. ‎ ‎I threw on my uniform and dashed into the street. Traffic greeted me like an enemy I’d fought too many times before.Brisden buses roared past, horns blaring, sweat and perfume mingling in the air. I squeezed into one, clutching my bag as though it was the last shred of dignity I owned. By the time I reached the hospital, I was drenched in sweat, lungs burning, heart pounding like it wanted to leap out of my chest. ‎ ‎Too late. ‎ ‎There she stood—Head Nurse Alena—arms folded like a general waiting to deliver judgment. ‎ ‎“Well, well,” she sneered, lips curling with satisfaction. “Here comes the charity case.” Her voice rang through the corridor, bouncing off white walls so everyone heard. “Tell me, Annie, do you even take this profession seriously, or do you think this is a playground?” ‎ ‎A ripple of laughter spread among the other nurses. One muttered just loud enough for me to hear, “She doesn’t even belong here. Probably forged her way in.” ‎ ‎Heat rose in my face, but I bit my tongue. Excuses wouldn’t erase the fact that I was late. Again. ‎ ‎Alena’s smile widened, eyes glittering. “Since you enjoy strolling in whenever you please, how about a special assignment? Room 309. Mr. Howard smith.” ‎ ‎The corridor hushed, then broke into mocking whispers. ‎“She won’t last five minutes in there.” ‎“Let’s see how long before he freezes her alive.” ‎ ‎My stomach twisted. Room 309. Howard smith—the man no nurse wanted near. The billionaire with eyes as cold as winter, whose silence was sharper than a blade. Even patients whispered about him. And now I was being thrown into his den like bait. ‎ ‎I swallowed hard and forced my feet forward. ‎ ‎The moment I opened the door, the air itself felt colder, as if the walls had been holding their breath. He sat upright in his bed, tall frame rigid, piercing gray eyes fixed on me like he’d been waiting. His face was devastatingly handsome—broad shoulders, a jaw sculpted from granite, lips set in stone. He looked less like a patient and more like a god carved to intimidate mortals. ‎ ‎“Who are you?” His voice was low, commanding—like a man who expected obedience. ‎ ‎“I—I’m Nurse Annie,” I stammered. “I’ll be taking care of you today.” ‎ ‎He didn’t reply. He just stared, gaze so sharp I felt stripped bare. My hands trembled as I reached for the glass of water on the bedside table. A few drops slipped onto the pristine sheets. ‎ ‎Silence. Heavy. Deadly. ‎ ‎Howard’s eyes narrowed. “Careless,” he hissed, the word slicing through me. “Pathetic. If you can’t hold a glass of water, you don’t deserve to wear that uniform.” ‎ ‎“I’m sorry—” ‎ ‎“Get. Out.” His tone was ice, final and merciless. “I don’t want this woman near me again. Fire her.” ‎ ‎The door swung open almost instantly. Alena. Of course she’d been waiting. Her smirk was cruel triumph. “You heard him, Annie. Pack your things.” ‎ ‎“Wait—please. It was just a mistake—” ‎ ‎Howard didn’t even look at me again. His gaze had already shifted to the window, dismissing me like I was nothing. ‎ ‎Alena’s fingers dug into my arm as she dragged me out. Laughter and whispers filled the hallway, stabbing deeper than knives. ‎ ‎And just like that, the only job keeping food on my table and a roof over my head was ripped away—by a man whose eyes had looked at me as if I was less than dirt. ‎ ‎I didn’t know it then. ‎But losing that job was the beginning of everything. ‎