Miracle in the wrong places

I couldn’t believe I’d just run away like that, but I wasn’t about to stick around for more of his arrogance. As I stepped out into the cool night air, I realized just how ridiculous the whole situation had been. But the last thing I wanted was to be alone in my apartment with my thoughts.

I glanced at my wristwatch with its peeling leather strap. Running out like that wasn't what I had intended.

That was just the perfect revenge for annoying people like him. He might think that I had gone home, but I was hiding behind the restaurant waiting to seize this perfect opportunity.

The last thing I wanted was to be alone in my room and the whole family asking ridiculous questions about why I didn't choose a color code for a wedding when they knew I was worse than being single.

I waited for him to come out and get into his sleek black car that screamed wealth.

I didn’t know what came over me. Perhaps it was the adrenaline, or perhaps it was just the fact that I was now too embarrassed to go home and face my aunt and the whole family, or maybe my paparazzo mode got activated.

Either way, I called a cab and followed his car as it weaved through the busy streets as I took a photo of him. It was payback time and a few pictures won't hurt.

When we arrived at his place, I nearly fainted. His house was more than a mansion, it was a palace of glass and magnificence, towering over everything differently in the city.

Of course, it had to be. He was a billionaire after all. In Manhattan.

I spent the next few hours hiding behind someone's car, taking a shot of his car, his house and everything I could.

At least selling these photos will help with the next pile of bills.

When I got home, thankfully, everyone was asleep. I tiptoed into my room, feeling a blend of relief and stress.

I sank into my bed, seized my phone, and logged into my account, mindlessly scrolling through the photos I’d taken.

I wanted to sleep.

But sleep didn’t come.

It wasn’t just his arrogance that got under my skin—it was him. Everything about Joachim Knight screamed danger wrapped in a tailored suit, from the way he looked at people like he already knew their secrets to the way his voice could cut glass when he was irritated.

I told myself I would follow him tonight because of the money. Because one viral shot of Manhattan’s most elusive billionaire would pay off half my bills and keep Aunt Anna from nagging me about rent for at least a month. That was it. Nothing more.

But staring at those photos on my laptop, I realized there was something in his face that didn’t make sense.

Joachim Knight didn’t look… normal.

His expression was too controlled, his eyes too sharp, his skin almost too pale under the streetlights. And the way he moved—so fast, so precise—sent a ripple of unease crawling down my spine.

I shook my head, laughing softly at myself. Maybe I was just tired. Maybe I’d watched too many N*****x thrillers and was imagining things because the man was rich, arrogant, and clearly allergic to smiling.

Still…

I hated his arrogance but as I darted through the images of Joachim, I saw myself gaping at one for longer than I should.

He was leaning against his car, his jaw set, his cold eyes sharp. There was something about him that was interesting.

I shook my head, mentally waking myself up. He wasn’t my type. He could never be. He was filthy rich and here I was in my small room setting up his photos for sale, but maybe except a miracle would happen — which I was sure couldn't happen in my dreams either — I might see that perfect devil again.

But apart from that, I knew I had to do some rehearsal, should have even started practicing.

Everyone would be dying to hear how my date went.

I knew someone didn't actually sleep and if it had been possible to follow me to the restaurant, they would have done so.

If only I could tell them, no one would want a girl like me.

Fashion sense= 0/100

My glasses were just another case and I argued alot.

I was about saving one of his photos that I liked into a new folder when I heard feet approaching.

Gracious heavens, I should have known that Aunt Anna was a bat. With the speed test even lightning would envy, I shut my laptop and drew the duvet up to my chin and pretended to be fast asleep.

Aunt Anna opened the door slowly, hoping to catch me up and make me go deaf with too questions.

But I was ‘fast asleep’. She ducked her head in, switched on the lights, sighed and left.

I waited for the sound of her steps to fade before my thoughts drifted back to Joachim Knight. The man I’d argued with, the man I couldn’t stop thinking about.

I got up, pushed the blankets aside and was ready to finish up a sale when the door was pushed open.

Damn.

I should have known.

"Gatcha," my aunt said, smiling and bringing the lights on.

Heavens.

Just then, my aunt opened the door too, poking her head inside. "So, how was your date?"

I froze, my heart leaping into my throat. “Great,” I mumbled, rolling over and pulling the blanket up to my chin. “It was... fine.”

She eyed me suspiciously, but I pretended to be asleep, hoping she’d let it go. She sighed and closed the door.

Better than I continued.

But also, I forced myself to push it out of my mind. He was rich. He was cold. He was arrogant with a capital letter A, and I was surely not his type.

Still I couldn’t help but wonder. What if a miracle happens?