My mysterious billionaire

THIRD PERSON POV:

The neon lights of New York City flickered in the reflection of a puddle as Emily Carter rushed past. She was late, again. She tried to run as fast as she could, but once again she hadn’t managed her time well. She hugged her green jacket tighter against her chest to protect herself from the chill of the autumn air, her red hair was getting all over her face, while her glasses slipped constantly from the bridge of her nose. The late-night silence enveloping her with every hurried step she took towards the aging building that housed The Daily Chronicle. The paper that was usually her home, her battleground, but tonight, it felt like the scene of her impending execution.

Her phone buzzed relentlessly in her pocket, a stark reminder of the deadline looming over her head like a guillotine. Emily knew what awaited her; the same grim faces in the editorial room, the ticking clock that seemed to mock her dwindling career, and the all-too-familiar taste of panic that no amount of coffee could wash away. She had tried to avoid this day, but it was to no avail.

Pushing the glass doors open, she slipped inside. The warmth of the lobby gave her a little comfort. At least it warmed her a bit, giving her a false sense of calmness before the storm. The elevator dinged, announcing its arrival, she pressed the button, and as she ascended to the fifth floor, Emily practiced the speech she had prepared. It was more of a plea, really—a plea for more time, a plea for understanding, a plea for one last chance to prove her worth. She hopped that it was enough to avoid being thrown out. She had bills to pay, and even if the job didn’t pay well, she loved it. The ink and paper were her home, and she didn’t want to lose it. She dreamed on one day being a recognized writer or journalist, but in an era where technology has taken over, a paper faced journal was slowly dying.

The doors open, her heart start beating harshly against her chest, as she stepped out into the dimly lit hallway leading to the newsroom. The muffled sounds of late-night typing and low conversations seeped through the air. The scent of coffee filled her nostrils, but not even the familiar aroma could calm her nerves or racing heart. She took a deep breath and pushed the brown wood door open. Everyone looked at her, her boss was looking at his clock in disapproval. It was clear that no one was happy to see her. Now she had to face them, and on top of that, she was late, once again.

"All right, Carter, what have you got for us?" Kevin, the night editor, didn't even look up from his cluttered desk as he spoke. He was the only one that didn’t seem to be against Emily, but that was going to change rather quickly.

Kevin was a nice man, at least that was what Emily thought. His appearance was deceiving, with him being a white, blue-eyed man, well built and tall. Most of her coworkers droll for him, and as he tried to be nice, everyone in the office liked him.

Emily approached, clutching her notepad like it was a shield.

"I—I need a bit more time," she stuttered out, her rehearsed confidence evaporated.

Kevin finally looked up, his expression a mixture of frustration and fatigue. She had tried to come out with eye-catching stories, but they were all a huge fail, and it showed with the paper’s sales.

"Time is a luxury we don't have, Emily. You know the situation. The paper is hanging by a thread, and we need stories that sell—big stories. Not more fluff pieces or local gossip. If you can't deliver..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but he didn't need to. The threat hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. She knew the consequences, but of course, she didn’t want to accept such a destiny.

Emily's mind raced. Desperation clawed at her, a feeling she knew all too well but had never gotten used to. Then, like a strike of lightning, an idea hit her. She didn’t even think about it, she just voiced it out.

"What if I could get you an exclusive with Alexander Blackwood?" It was her last hope, the last attempt that she could make to preserve her job. Could she get it?

Kevin's eyebrows shot up, skepticism written all over his face. He knew that she was trying to preserve her job at any cost. He knew that it was impossible, but he was going to let her amuse him.

"Blackwood? The Alexander Blackwood? The guy hasn't given an interview in over a decade. How in the world do you expect to—"

"I have a lead," Emily lied, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. Her heart pounded at the gamble she was taking. "Give me two weeks. If I can't get it, I'll—I'll walk away. No fuss, no mess."

For a moment, Kevin just stared at her, weighing her offer. Emily held her breath, aware that this was not just about saving her job anymore. It was about proving to herself that she wasn't a failure, that she could do something remarkable.

Finally, Kevin sighed.

"Two weeks, Carter. Not a day more." His stare was intense, showing to Emily that he was dead serious. This was her last card, and she had to play it perfectly or she might lose everything. The gamble she had taken could be the best or worst decision of her life.

A wave of relief and terror washed over Emily. She had just bought herself some time, but at what cost? Alexander Blackwood was a fortress of secrets and silence. Intriguing, untouchable, deadly handsome, and now, her only shot at redemption.

As she walked back to her desk, Emily knew that the real work had just begun. She had to find a way into Alexander Blackwood's world, a world that had remained impenetrable to journalists far more experienced than her. But Emily had something they didn't—a desperation that left no room for failure. When a person entered that state they could do anything to achieve what they wanted, and that was exactly what Emily was about to do.

Tonight, New York City felt bigger than ever, its lights brighter, its shadows darker. And somewhere out there, in the maze of skyscrapers and secrets, was the story that could save her career or end it. The hunt for Alexander Blackwood had begun.

Was she ready for it? Of course, but was he ready to met Emily? A fireball in all the senses, from her red hair to her witty attitude. She was about to become his weakness, even if he didn’t realized it at first.

At the other side of the city there was a solitary man, sitting if front of his fireplace. He was meditating on several aspects of his life. He looked at his tablet and all the documents that he had to sort out, unaware of what was going to happened to him in just a few hours.