The Billionaire And The Cellist

Ivy Carter held the tray of hot coffee cups tightly as she rushed across the busy New York street. One wrong step and everything could fall. And if that happened, her boss would definitely fire her.

She was already late.

Cold wind blew her hair loose from the bun she'd tied in a hurry that morning. Her old sneakers splashed through a puddle, but she didn't stop. Ahead of her stood a huge glass building-Blackwood Enterprises-one of the most powerful companies in the city.

I just have to drop this off and leave, she told herself. No mistakes.

As she entered the building, her eyes widened. The lobby looked like something out of a movie-shiny floors, gold accents, and the smell of expensive cologne in the air. People in sharp suits walked past her, confident and important.

She adjusted her café apron, feeling completely out of place.

"Delivery for Mr. Carter," she said softly to the security guard.

"Top floor," he replied without looking up.

Ivy stepped into the elevator, trying to calm her nerves. As the elevator moved up, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were red from the cold, her hair messy, but her warm hazel eyes still gave her a little comfort. At least she didn't look completely hopeless.

The elevator stopped on the 52nd floor.

Ivy stepped out slowly. The office floor was quiet, fancy, and intimidating. A woman with straight blonde hair sat behind the front desk, typing without looking up.

"You're here for Mr. Blackwood?" the woman asked.

Ivy nodded.

"Go in. He's waiting."

He? Ivy's heart skipped a beat.

She thought she was delivering the coffee to an assistant, not Adrian Blackwood himself-the billionaire CEO.

She took a deep breath and pushed open the large glass door.

A tall man stood by the window with his back to her. His suit fit him perfectly, and the bright city lights behind him made him look like he belonged in another world.

"Put it on the desk," he said without turning around.

His voice was deep, calm, and powerful.

Ivy placed the tray carefully on the desk. Her hands were shaking a little, but she tried to act normal. She should have left right after, but something made her stay. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was the strange pull she felt.

Then he turned.

Her breath caught in her throat.

He was handsome in a way that didn't seem real. Sharp jawline, blue eyes that looked like ice, dark hair combed back neatly-he looked like someone out of a magazine. Rich. Confident. Dangerous.

His eyes landed on her and stayed there.

"Ivy," he said, reading her name tag. "You're not our usual delivery person."

"I-I'm just helping out today," she said quickly. "It's my first time here."

He took a step closer. She felt his gaze move over her like a wave. It wasn't rude or creepy-just intense.