A BILLIONAIRE’S EXCEPTION

Hi, lovely readers!Welcome to a world where power is precision, control is a weapon,And one unexpected woman dares to challenge it.This isn’t a story about a prince saving a damsel.It’s about a man who built his empire with ruthless logicuntil a woman walked in, unapologetically real, and proved that control is nothing but an illusion.Meet Alexander Thompson cold, untouchable, a man who bows to no one.Jasmine Ramirez is strong-willed, intelligent, fearless, and not here to follow anyone’s rules.Their worlds were never meant to collide.But fate has always loved chaos.Prepare for power plays, razor-sharp banter, and a slow-burning tension that will test pride, passion, and every wall they’ve both built.Thank you for reading!And remember: in this story, the one who loses control…might be the only one who finally learns what it means to live.With love,Anne AuthorPROLOGUEControl is everything… until someone shatters it.Alexander Thompson lived by rhythm.Order.Discipline

Jasmine’s POV Ang trabaho, hindi paligsahan. Pero kung may susubok sayo, mas mabuting hindi ka rin nagpapaiwan.”Dalawang linggo pa lang ako sa Thompson Group, pero parang isang buwan na akong nasa ilalim ng microscope. Lahat ng mata, sinusundan ako. Lahat ng bulungan, parang ako ang paksa.Sa pantry, umiinit ang batok ko sa mga sulyap.Sa elevator, tila may invisible barrier bihira akong tabihan.At sa meeting room kanina, narinig kong may bumulong:“Siya yung sinigawan ni Mr. Thompson, ‘diba?”“Dalawang linggo palang siya dito pero parang… malakas kay Chairman ah.”“HR lang, pero biglang sinama sa project.”HR lang. Lagi na lang may “lang.”Ang hindi nila alam, sanay na ako sa ganyan. Sa NGO, hindi uso ang entitlement. Trabaho mo, gawin mo. Dito? Palakasan. Pa-impress-an. Pabonggahan ng suit at Power Point. Pero hindi ako nandidiri sa ganito. Nilalaro ko lang nang tahimik.Napalingon ako sa desk ko nang may iabot na folder ang Executive Assistant ni Alexander. May nakadikit na post

Jasmine’s POV Ang daming bagay na ayaw ko sa boss ko.Una, hindi siya marunong ngumiti nang hindi parang gusto niyang mag-utos.Pangalawa, hindi siya sanay na may humaharang o kumokontra sa gusto niya.Pangatlo, siya ang pinaka-pasabog na distraction na dumating sa buhay ko at sa totoo lang, hindi ko alam kung galit ako roon o natatakot.“Jasmine, nagrereply ba siya sa emails mo?” tanong ni Tin, isa sa mga ka-team ko sa HR habang sabay kaming naglalakad papunta sa pantry.“Hindi,” sagot ko habang binubuksan ang tubig sa coffee dispenser. “Siguro kasi masyado siyang busy magpalit ng kotse every three months.”“Grabe ka,” natatawang sagot niya. “Pero totoo. Ang ganda nung bagong sasakyan niya kahapon. Parang iiyak ‘yung Porsche ko sa wallpaper.”Umiling na lang ako. Hindi ko sinabi na “I know,” kasi ako ‘yung nasa likod ng passenger seat kahapon. Ako ‘yung dinala niya pauwi dahil gabi na at wala akong masasakyan, kahit sinabi ko nang okay lang ako sa Grab. Pero ang boss ko doesn’t take

Jasmine’s POV Kinabukasan, hindi pa ako nakakapasok sa opisina, pero ang chat group ng department… buhay na buhay. "Sis nakita mo na ba 'yung picture? SIYA YUN TALAGA OMG." "Gown pa lang parang lakas maka-Red Carpet. Sino siya, artista?" "Siya 'yung assistant sa PR! Yung bago lang!" Napangiti ako habang hinihigop ang kape sa gilid ng street bago sumakay ng jeep. Malamig pa ang umaga, pero mainit na mainit ang pangalan ko sa opisina. At hindi ko kailangan ng PR team para kumalat ang epekto ng kagabi. Pagpasok ko sa building, ilang receptionist ang pasimpleng sumilip. Yung elevator boy, ngumiti parang alam na niya ang tsismis. Pero wala akong pake. Lalo na nang pagpasok ko sa floor namin… "Ms. Ramirez, Mr. Thompson wants to see you in his office," agad na sabi ng secretary niya. Hindi pa ako nakakaupo. Literal, hindi pa nakakapaglagay ng bag sa mesa. Naglakad ako papunta sa opisina niya, tinatanggal ang shades ko. Walang kaba pero may expectation. Hindi ko alam kung matatawa ak

Jasmine’s POV I didn’t speak to him. I didn’t look at him. I didn’t even give the slightest hint that I wanted to hear his voice again because, truthfully, I didn’t. I didn’t like him. Or at least, that’s what I kept telling myself since last night. But no matter how much I avoided him, no matter how many times I insisted he did not affect me, my heart behaved like a mischievous child refusing to listen. The gala event last night. Anger, resentment, and jealousy all hit me at once. Maybe it was for the best that today, despite the paparazzi lingering in the building lobby and my colleagues asking one passive-aggressive question after another—“Are we okay?”—I chose to ignore him. So what if he’s the CEO? So what if he’s the man with power? I am Jasmine Ramirez. And I am not a woman who needs her conscience chased just to notice him again. I was wearing high-waisted silk pants in emerald green, hugging my waist and shaping my hips. No blazer over the daring sheer mesh top with a