That Prince Is A Girl: The Vicious King's Captive Slave Mate.
The Jilted Heiress' Return To The High Life
Rejected No More: I Am Way Out Of Your League, Darling!
My Coldhearted Ex Demands A Remarriage
His Unwanted Wife, The World's Coveted Genius
Pampered By The Ruthless Underground Boss
The Warlord's Lovely Prize
The Unwanted Wife's Unexpected Comeback
Secrets Of The Neglected Wife: When Her True Colors Shine
Comeback Of The Adored Heiress
Ava Hart stared at her computer screen, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she worked through the endless stream of numbers and calculations. The small accounting firm where she worked was quiet that evening; the hum of the fluorescent lights was the only sound aside from her typing.
At twenty-six, Ava was brilliant with numbers, and it was a skill she had honed from an early age. Numbers were predictable and logical, and unlike life, they always made sense if you worked through the equation. But despite her talent, Ava's life was anything but balanced.
She lived modestly in a two-bedroom apartment with her parents, who had fallen on hard times after her father's small construction business went bankrupt. Her mother, once a lively florist, had stopped working to care for her husband after his health began to fail. Ava had stepped into the role of breadwinner without hesitation.
She didn't resent the responsibility; she loved her family fiercely. Her father, Henry Hart, had always been her hero. He is kind, honest, and hardworking. Watching him struggle with guilt over their financial troubles broke her heart.
But Ava believed things would get better. They had to.
Her phone buzzed on the desk, interrupting her thoughts. She sighed, glancing at the screen. It was a message from Layla, her wealthy and glamorous best friend she met at university.
"Hey, Ava! Emergency. Need you to cover for me tonight. Blind date. Usual spot."
Ava groaned. Layla's "emergencies" were usually trivial, but Ava couldn't say no. Layla had helped her family financially more times than Ava could count. This was just one of the few ways she could repay her kindness.
"Do I have to?" she responded, resuming her work almost immediately.
"Please! Just go. Act rude. He's a jerk, apparently, so he won't even mind either. Thanks, babe!"
Ava rolled her eyes but grabbed her bag reluctantly. If it was just a matter of acting rudely to scare off some self-absorbed rich guy, she could handle it, and she actually needed someone to rain her frustration on.
****
The restaurant was as extravagant as Ava expected. It had soft lighting, glittering chandeliers, and a pianist playing in the corner. It was the kind of place she couldn't afford even on a good month.
Her date was easy to spot. He sat at a corner table, exuding an air of quiet authority. His dark, tailored suit fit perfectly, and he watched the room with a detached confidence that made her stomach turn.
Ava reminded herself why she was there. It was to act rude, send the guy packing, and call it a night without any delay.
"Mr. Cross?" she asked, feigning indifference as she approached.
He stood, extending a hand. "Ms. Layla?"
His voice was deep, smooth, and annoyingly magnetic. She ignored his outstretched hand and sat without waiting for him to pull out her chair.
"You're late," she said flatly.
His brow lifted slightly, but he didn't reply. Instead, he studied her for a moment, his dark eyes sharp and assessing.
"Shall we order?" he said finally, signaling to the waiter.
Ava bit back a sigh and decided to escalate. "Actually, let's not waste time. I'm not interested in whatever game you're playing. I don't need anyone to force me into a loveless marriage."
Damien Cross leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "Game?"
"Blind dates, contracts, whatever this is," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "I'm not here for your convenience or your money."
To her surprise, he chuckled; it was a low and amusing sound. "Direct. I like that."
She bristled. This wasn't going according to her plan.
"Let me guess," he said, leaning forward slightly. "You think I'm some arrogant billionaire who uses his money to get whatever he wants."
"You'd be correct." Her response was sharp
"And yet, here you are."
Her cheeks flushed, but she held her ground. "Not for you. For my friend."
I was tired of dragging it out. I had to let him know that both I and Layla had no intention of satisfying his need.
"I know you weren't the one. It's good that you cleared yourself at least," he smiled as he raised his cup of tea