Lexi 

I got home seething with rage, slamming my apartment door so hard that the neighbor’s dog started barking. “How dare he bring his girlfriend over like that?” I growled, kicking off my shoes with unnecessary violence.  

Mia looked up from the couch, a spoonful of my Ben & Jerry's frozen midway to her mouth. “Whoa. Someone pissed in your cereal?” 

“That arrogant, smug, infuriating…” I gritted.

“Ah.” Mia nodded sagely. “You met the billionaire again.” She licked the spoon clean. “Did he flash his abs or something? That usually gets you flustered.”  

I threw a couch pillow at her. “He flashed his fiancée! Right in the middle of…ugh!” I collapsed onto the couch, stealing the ice cream carton from her. “She called me a slut, Mia. To my face!”  

Mia's eyes lit up with unholy glee. “No. Freaking. Way.” She snatched her phone. “What's her name? I'm looking her up right now.”

“Giselle something… I don't care.” I hissed. “She's probably a model. Her skin was flawless.” I admitted.

Mia's fingers flew across her screen. Then she whistled. “Ohhh-kay. Giselle Laurent. French model. Net worth... Jesus. And…” She turned the phone to show me a paparazzi shot of Lucian and Giselle at some red carpet event, his arm around her waist. “They were engaged. Lucian called it off last year.”  

I shoved another spoonful of ice cream in my mouth. “Don't care.”  

“You so care.” Mia poked my cheek. “You're doing that thing where you pretend not to care, which means you super care.” 

“I care that I have to go back there tomorrow and pretend like today didn't happen!” I yelled. 

Mia tsked. “Why are you so worked up though? You like him?” She winked.

I pushed her head away. “Hell. No. You know I hate those  billionaires.”

“Hmm,” Mia nodded, not buying what I just said.

“Just go to your own house.” I said, pushing her away.

“Oh, come on. Can I spend the night?” She hugged me, pouting.

“No way!” I kicked her out.

The next morning, I walked into my office at The Daily Buzz. Frank cornered me the second I walked in. “Well? Where's my scoop on Cross?”  

I slumped into my chair, still exhausted from my mental replay of yesterday's disaster. “He has a girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend. Whatever. Her name's Giselle.” 

Frank blinked. “That's your big reveal?” He threw his hands up. “The whole world knows about Giselle Laurent! They broke up last year!” 

My head shot up. “Hmm…they did?” I asked, pretending like I didn't know.

“Yeah, messy divorce settlement too.” Frank narrowed his eyes. “Are you telling me you got nothing after all that access?” 

I... didn't know why that information made my shoulders relax. Maybe because it meant Lucian wasn't currently entangled with Human Barbie. Not that it mattered.  

“I'm working on it,” I muttered, opening my laptop to avoid Frank's glare.

“Better get to work!” He walked out. 

Mia slid into the chair next to me, grinning. “Sooo... you're relieved he's single?”  

“I'm relieved I don't have to deal with his psycho ex again,” I said, clicking random keys.  

Mia just hummed, knowing better.  

I turned to her. “I actually don't care.” I voiced.

Mia smiled. “Hmm…”

“See, whatever.” I waved her off.

I debated not showing up at Lucian’s company. Really, I did. But rent wasn't going to pay itself.  

I stood outside Cross Tower, squinting up at the stupidly tall building that probably had golden toilets inside. My stomach growled like a hungry bear, because who has time for breakfast when you're selling your soul to a billionaire?  

“Morning, sunshine,” I muttered to myself, adjusting my cheap blazer. That's all I got. “Welcome to corporate hell.”  

The lobby was all marble and glass. A security guard eyed my scuffed boots like they'd personally offended him.  

“Lexi Carter,” I announced. “Here to see the devil himself.” 

The guard's eyebrow twitched. “Identification?”

I flashed my new employee badge, the one some poor intern had messengered to my apartment at 6 AM. The photo looked like a mugshot.  

The elevator ride to the 80th floor took approximately forever. I practiced my best ‘I'm not impressed’ face in the mirrored walls.  

Ding.  

The doors slid open to reveal...  

“Holy shit.” I muttered. 

The entire floor was one massive office. Floor-to-ceiling windows showed the entire city sprawled out below like Lucian's personal playground. And there he was, leaning against a stupidly expensive desk, looking like he'd stepped out of a GQ cover shoot.  

“Nine-0-three,” Lucian noted without looking up from his phone. “I was beginning to think you'd chickened out.”  

I stomped in, dropping my bag on a chair that probably cost more than my life. “Traffic. Also, I stopped to rescue a kitten. Also, I hate you.” 

That got his attention. His lips quirked as he finally looked up. “Good to know where I stand.”  

Gregory appeared like a butler ghost. “Your schedule, sir. And... coffee for Miss Carter.” He set down a cup with a sneer.  

“Thanks.” I took a sip. Ugh. This is amazing. Damn it.”  

Lucian smirked. “Ethiopian Yirgacheffe. Single origin.”

“I hate that I like it.” I rolled my eyes. 

“Noted.” He stood, straightening his cuffs. “Tour time. Try to keep up.”    

My brows furrowed. “What? You want to take me on a tour yourself?” 

He turned to me. “Don’t pretend you don't like it?” He smirked.

I hate it when he smirks. 

I rolled my eyes. They are probably going to fall off if I keep rolling them. 

“Well… I don't. You can just tell your assistant to do that. I don't want your employees thinking…”

“Thinking what?” He interrupted, looking unfairly gorgeous in his navy blue suit. “They know better.”

I shot him a dead glare. “That's rude.”

“Can we just go, Lexi.” I pointed to the door. “I have meetings to attend.”

“I hate you.” I replied. 

I loved the way my name sounded on his lips though. No one can say it better. 

“I'm aware, Lexi.” He replied, stepping out.

I followed after him, trying to meet his pace.

People watched, and stared as we walked past. But no one dared to whisper or take pictures. That would be the end of them, maybe.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry about the lady yesterday.” His face turned dark. “I don't know what Gregory was doing, letting that slut into my office.” 

Holy shit.

What could she have done to him?

Could that be the secret he’s hiding?

“It's okay, Mr. Cross, I don't care anyways.” I replied, my bag dangling in my hand.

“Good.” He replied, his expression unreadable.

Our first stop was the media room. A wall of screens showing every news channel globally. 

“This is where we monitor…”Lucian started.

“…how much the world worships you? Got it.” I replied, marveled. 

Lucian shot me a glare. “I just need to stay updated.”

Our next stop was The innovation lab. A tech playground that made my inner nerd drool. “Is that a hologram projector?” 

“Don't touch that,” Lucian caught my wrist. His fingers were warm. “It’s worth more than your life.”

I pulled my hands back. “I thought you were into entertainment only?” I asked, curiosity getting the best of me.

“Yeah,” he looked around and I could see how proud he was. “Not everyone knows about this. Entertainment is the main part, but I might venture into tech soon if my projects work out.”

I nodded, impressed. “Hmm,” 

“So…you're not writing about this yet.” He said.

“Of course, I'm not.” I scoffed. “There's nothing fun about tech.”

“Good. There are those who would kill me to have these.” He pointed.

“Oh…”

My phone buzzed with a message, interrupting me.

Lucian’s face landed on my screen. 

“Ethan Shaw?” His brows furrowed. “You know him?” He asked.

I didn't reply.

“Let's get out of here.” He ordered his expression grim.

Lucian  

The moment Lexi's phone lit up again with Ethan Shaw's name, my entire body went on high alert. I watched the color drain from her face as she quickly silenced the call, her fingers trembling slightly against the screen.  

“You know him,” I stated, steering her firmly toward the private elevator. My grip on her elbow was perhaps tighter than necessary, but the sudden appearance of that particular name in connection with Lexi Carter set off every alarm bell in my system.  

She yanked her arm free the second the elevator doors closed. “It's personal.” 

The way her chin jutted out in defiance would have been adorable if the situation weren't so dangerous.  

I studied her in the elevator's dim lighting. The rapid pulse at her throat, the way she unconsciously bit her lower lip. For a woman who claimed to hate me, she stood remarkably close to me in this confined space.  

The garage doors opened to reveal Marcus waiting with the town car. “Change of plans,” I told Lexi, guiding her toward it with a hand at the small of her back. She stiffened but didn't pull away this time. “My driver will take you home.” 

“What about the rest of the tour?” Those whiskey-colored eyes narrowed at me.

I resisted the urge to tuck a loose curl behind her ear. “Rescheduled.” I replied, ss I handed her into the car, I made sure my voice dropped low enough that Marcus wouldn't hear. “I don't know your connection with Ethan, but be careful. I'm just a call away if you need me.”

I can't believe I said that. I felt really embarrassed. What am I? Her boyfriend?

She shook her head. “I don't need you, Mr. Cross.”

“Ouch,” I muttered.

Lexi didn't come to work until three days later. Not that she didn't want to come. I didn't call her. My face still burns in embarrassment whenever I remember my last statement to her. The hell.

Three days later, at the Children's Hospital Benefit.  I spotted Lexi across the crowded ballroom, looking stunning in an emerald green gown my assistant had discreetly arranged for her. If she knew the dress was from me, she wouldn't wear it. 

I had my assistant call her the night before to inform her I would be needing her to cover a story.

She held her camera and notepad tightly, but her book has been empty since three hours ago. I am sure she was expecting something shady and bad.

“Enjoying the champagne or just the view?” I murmured, appearing at her elbow.  

She startled, nearly dropping her glass. “Do you have to materialize out of thin air like some sort of overgrown bat?”

I plucked the champagne from her fingers and took a sip, watching her eyes track the movement of my lips. “I prefer to think of it as making an entrance.”  

Lexi rolled her eyes but didn't protest when I guided her toward the silent auction tables. “Why are we really here, Mr. Cross?” Her voice was laced with frustration. “This doesn't seem like your scene.”  

“You'd be surprised.” I nodded toward a group of children in remission being escorted by nurses. “The hospital's oncology wing is my pet project.” 

Her skeptical expression softened just slightly. “You fund pediatric cancer research?”

“Among other things.” I steered her past a display showing the new neonatal unit my foundation had built. “But please, don't let that ruin your image of me as a heartless capitalist.”  

For the first time since we met, I saw genuine confusion flicker across her face.  

Later That Evening we arrived at The Bronx Foster Home.  

Lexi stood frozen in the doorway as I handed out winter coats to a group of wide-eyed children. Who were excited to see me.

“You... you know this place?” She asked, her gaze fixed on me.

“Intimately.” I crouched to help a small boy zip his new jacket. “My father and I have visited here since I was nine before he died. He told me it was a family tradition and I must continue.”

I watched the realization dawn in her eyes.

“You're staring, Miss Carter.” I teased.

She blinked rapidly. “I just... you never mentioned…” 

“Because it's not for publicity.” I straightened, brushing invisible lint from my suit sleeves. “Contrary to popular belief, not everything I do is for show.” 

Lexi opened her mouth, then closed it again when one of the teenage girls approached shyly.  

“Mr. Lucian?” The girl held out a handmade card. “We made this for you.”

As I accepted the card, I didn't miss how Lexi's fingers twitched toward it, her reporter's curiosity clearly warring with something softer.  

“Thank you, Maria.” I tucked the card into my inner pocket without looking at it. Some moments were too private even for prying journalists.  

The ride back to Atherton was quiet, Lexi stared out of the window with an unreadable expression. When the car pulled up outside her apartment, she finally turned to me.  

“Why did you really bring me today?” She asked, her serious expression told me she wanted to hear the truth.

I considered lying to her. Considered deflecting with a joke about her article. But instead, I told her the truth.  

“Because I wanted you to see me.”  

She was stunned. Shock written all over her face.

“What?!” 

“Yes, I wanted you to see me.” I smiled, looking around. “This is who I am, not some heartless billionaire who fucks celebrities.”

For a moment I knew she didn't want to believe me.

I won't force it.

Wait, but why do I care what she thinks of me?

I never cared what people thought of me. But somehow, deep down, I want Lexi to know me for who I really am. Not some fucked up billionaire.

“I will leave now, thanks for the ride.” She said, turning to her apartment.

“Oh…alright.” I entered the car and it zoomed off.

“Is everything okay, sir.” Gregory asked from the driver's seat.

I decided against lying. Everything is not okay.

“I need to see a therapist, Greg. Immediately.”

“Okay sir. I’ll arrange for that.” 

He dialed a number and chatted for a while.

“She’ll be glad to see you immediately sir.” Gregory replied.

I nodded. It's a she. Good. Because I might end up needing motherly advice.

Few minutes later, we pulled up in front of a massive building. 

Greg took care of all the necessities.

“This way sir.” A female receptionist replied, leading us to a large office.

A slender, silver-haired woman sat on a white sofa. Late sixties I presume.

“Come on in, my dear.” She welcomed, offering me a seat. The chair was a comfortable leather chair.

“Will be outside sir.” Greg excused.

I nodded, waving him out.

“Spill.” The woman ordered, and as if on cue, I narrated my concern to her. From how I met Lexi. To how I act strange whenever she's around. And sometimes say ridiculous things like, “call me when you need me.” What kind of boss says that?!

The woman nodded, scribbling in her notebook as I confessed. When I finished, the woman set down her pen with a knowing smile. I nodded, my gaze fixed on her, expecting some explanation.

“My dear, what you're describing are classic symptoms of limerence.”

I stiffened in the leather chair. “Limerence?”

“That overwhelming romantic infatuation,” she explained, adjusting her glasses. “The physical reactions. The irrational need to both impress and provoke her.” She tapped her notebook. “You're not acting strange, Mr. Cross. You're falling in love.”

The pen I'd been fidgeting with snapped in my hands. “Ehn!”

Lexi

I slumped on my couch, cracking open the window to check if Lucian's stupidly expensive car was gone. The street was empty except for Mrs. Kowalski’s ancient tabby cat peeing on my doormat.

The hell is wrong with that man?  

I shoved a handful of stale popcorn in my mouth. Is he really who he claims to be? Or is this some elaborate billionaire mind game? Ugh.   

Just as I stood up to prepare myself noodles, rapid knocks shook my door. My fist tightened.

God help me if it's Mia…I'm gonna kill her.

“Pay your rent, you asshole!” My landlord's cigarette-roughened voice screeched through the thin wood.  

I yanked the door open in anger. Mrs. Kowalski stood there in her usual uniform, moth-eaten housecoat, fuzzy slippers, and a cigarette dangling from her lips like a damn movie villain.  

“I already paid for last month!” I yelled back at her.

She took a long drag, blowing smoke in my face. “Don't play stupid, bitch. I saw that hot rich dude drop you off.” Her yellowed teeth appeared in a grin. “He single?”

I snorted. “He's not single.” 

Liar. 

“Pity.” She held out a gnarled hand. “Well? I'm sure he gave you money. Where's my money? My weed's running low.”  

“The hell, Mrs. Kowalski.” I hissed. “I'm not a slut, okay. And I've got no money.” I folded my arms across my chest.

“Well…I'mma throw your stuff out.” She puffed smoke in my face.

“I hate you.” I growled.

I stomped to my little safe box and pulled out the cash I'd been saving for new work clothes so I don't look like a charity case at Lucian’s workplace. “Here! Now leave me alone!”

Mrs. Kowalski licked her fingers as she counted. “This ain't enough for next month.”  

“It's all I have!” 

She pocketed the cash with a shrug. “Tell Prince Charming your landlord accepts direct deposits.” With that, she waddled off, coughing like a broken vacuum cleaner.  

I hate my life!

I was slurping my sad ramen when my door burst open.  

“Surprise, girl!” Mia sang, her arms laden with shopping bags, her makeup freshly done and hair blown out.  

I nearly choked. “Why do you still have my key?!” 

Mia kicked off designer heels that definitely weren't hers last week. “Because you'd starve without me.” She dumped the bags on my lap. “Open them.”  

I peeked inside. Silk blouses. Tailored slacks. Actual leather boots. “Did you rob someone?”  

“Better.” She flopped onto my couch. “Met this crypto bro at a club last night. He took me to Rodeo Drive before dinner.” She waved a manicured hand. “Got bored, told him I had emergency cramps, and kept the goods.”

Well, typical of her.  

I held up a price tag. “This shirt costs more than my annual rent!”  

Mia grinned. “And it'll look amazing when you accidentally run into a certain billionaire.” 

I threw a pillow at her. “I'm not…”  

“Yes, ma'am.” She quickly replied, dodging the pillow.

“Well…poor guy.” I sighed.

“Yeah…poor guy.” She shook her head.

“You know you will never get a man if you keep doing this.” I pointed out.

“I know and that's because I am not ready to be a wife yet.” She rolled her eyes.

“But you will, one day, right?” I asked, getting worried.

This girl dupes guys a lot.

“Hmm,” she nodded. “Let's get something better to eat.” She snatched the noodles from me and dropped it into the bin.

“Hurgh,” I pinched my brows. “You know I don't like wasting food.”

She bursted into laughter. “You call that food?”

“Don't do that to me.” I said.

“It's expired girl.” She said.

“It is?” I asked, acting like I hadn't seen it. I tried picking it back from the trash. Mia kicked it back. “But it tasted okay.” I pouted. My stomach was growling.

“That's because your taste bud is used to suffering.” She mocked, bursting inti laughter.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

We stepped out to go eat at a restaurant.

After a while, Mia and I stepped out of the diner, my stomach finally full of something other than expired ramen. The night air was cool against my skin as we walked back to my apartment.  

“You sure you don't want to come clubbing with me?” Mia asked, adjusting her designer sunglasses even though it was nighttime.  

I rolled my eyes. “No, thanks. I have work tomorrow.” 

Mia gasped dramatically. “Oh right! Your other job with your other rich boyfriend.”  

I shoved her lightly. “Shut up. It's just a six-month contract.”  

“Uh-huh.” She winked before hopping into a rideshare. “Text me if Lucian proposes!” 

I flipped her off as the car drove away. 

The next morning, I stepped into the lobby of Cross Media the next day, wearing one of the outfits Mia had acquired, a fitted red dress that hugged my curves and heels that made me walk like a newborn giraffe. 

The security guard at the front desk did a double check.  

“Miss Carter?” He asked, blinking.  

I smirked. “The one and only.”

The elevator ride up was nerve-wracking. What if Lucian hated the dress? What if he loved it? Why do I even care?!  

The doors opened to the executive floor, and I strutted out with as much confidence as I could muster.  

Then I heard his voice. His statement shattered every bit of confidence I had.

“Why are you so cheaply dressed?” 

I froze. Lucian stood a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, his icy blue eyes scanning me from head to toe. “I remember paying you $200,000 last week.”  

My face burned as I tried to mask my anger. “Don't act like you don't know my expenses don't allow for savings,” I shot back.  

He didn’t blink. “I don’t care. Just level up.” 

Asshole.

“I hate you,” I muttered under my breath.  

Gregory appeared behind Lucian, looking between us like he was watching a tennis match.  

I turned to him. “What is wrong with your boss?”  

Gregory hesitated, before speaking. “What is wrong with ‘our boss’, Miss Lexi?” He corrected.

I sighed. “No need for formalities. Just call me Lexi.”  

Gregory nodded. “Oh, okay. Lexi.”  

Lucian’s head snapped toward us, his expression darkening. “What the hell are you two discussing? And why are you standing so close to each other?” He stepped between us, his broad shoulders blocking Gregory from view.  

I glared up at him. “What is wrong with you, Lucian?” 

The second the words left my mouth, the entire floor seemed to hold its breath.  

Lucian turned to me slowly, his gaze sharp. “Did you just call me Lucian?”