Taming the billionaire's heart

The rain came down in sharp sheets, tapping relentlessly against the windows of Elena Hart’s tiny apartment. She sat cross-legged on the couch, cradling a cup of tea, her eyes locked on her laptop screen. Her inbox was open, the cursor hovering over an unread email from Cross Enterprises.

Her heart thudded in her chest. Weeks of waiting had led to this moment. The opportunity to leave her cramped one-bedroom apartment and escape the constant penny-pinching.

“Just open it,” she muttered, gripping the mug tighter. With a steadying breath, she clicked.

Subject: Job Application – Cross Enterprises

Status: Congratulations

Her eyes widened.

“Congratulations?”

Her gaze flew down the email.

> Dear Ms. Hart,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected for the position of Lead Interior Designer for the Cross Enterprises Penthouse Renovation Project. This role will require your direct involvement with CEO Damien Cross to execute his vision. Please review the attached contract and report to Cross Enterprises HQ at 9:00 AM on Monday to finalize details.

Elena’s mouth fell open.

“Lead designer?” she whispered.

Her tea sat forgotten on the table as she opened the attachment. The pay listed was triple her current salary. She blinked hard, rereading the words. This had to be a mistake.

Her phone buzzed. It was her best friend, Brielle.

“You better answer!” Brielle’s voice rang out. “Did you see it? I told you the universe was about to bless you.”

“I think they made a mistake,” Elena said, still staring at her screen.

“So? Take it! Don’t you dare email them to ‘correct’ it. You’ve been working for this for years. They want you? Let them have you. Fake it if you have to.”

Elena leaned back against the couch, a grin tugging at her lips despite the anxiety swirling in her chest. “You’re right,” she said finally. “I’m taking it.”

“Yes, you are!” Brielle whooped. “Now get some sleep. Tomorrow, you walk in like you own the place.”

---

The Next Morning

Elena adjusted the lapel of her black blazer, studying her reflection in the mirror. Sharp eyes, full lips, and untamed curls framed her face. She let them be. Untamed but in control.

“You’ve got this,” she whispered.

Grabbing her bag, she headed out, her heels clicking purposefully against the hallway floor. The city air smelled like fresh rain, mingling with the buzz of ambition that seemed to electrify her.

As she approached the towering Cross Enterprises skyscraper, its sleek glass and steel stretched endlessly into the clouds. She paused at the entrance, letting the enormity of it sink in. No turning back now.

Her phone buzzed.

Brielle: Crush it today, queen. Show them they hired a boss.

Elena smiled, slipped her phone into her pocket, and strode through the revolving doors.

The lobby was an oasis of opulence—polished marble floors, minimalist decor, and a chandelier that sparkled like a crown. Everything about the space screamed wealth and power.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” A receptionist called out, pulling her from her thoughts.

“Here for the 9:00 appointment. Elena Hart.”

The receptionist scanned her screen and nodded. “Take the elevator to the 50th floor. They’re expecting you.”

Elena stepped into the elevator, exhaling slowly as she pressed the button. Her reflection stared back at her, calm and poised. You belong here, she told herself.

The elevator climbed, and her thoughts wandered to Damien Cross, the enigmatic CEO. His reputation preceded him: brilliant, ruthless, untouchable. She had Googled him the night before, and the photos didn’t help her nerves—jet-black hair, piercing gray eyes, and a presence that radiated power.

The elevator dinged, pulling her back to the moment.

---

The 50th Floor

The 50th floor was eerily silent. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city skyline, and sleek desks filled the open-concept office. Assistants moved quietly, glancing her way as if assessing the new arrival.

“Elena Hart?” A stern-looking woman in a pencil skirt approached, clipboard in hand. “Follow me. Mr. Cross is in a meeting, but I’ll show you to your workspace.”

Elena nodded, keeping her steps measured as she followed.

“This will be your design studio,” the woman said, gesturing to a sunlit room with a drafting table, color swatches, and an expansive digital board.

Elena’s fingers itched to get started. This was her element.

Before she could fully take in the space, a glass door on the far side of the room swung open with a sharp click.

She turned and froze.

Damien Cross entered the room, his presence commanding attention. His tailored black suit fit like a second skin, and his stormy gray eyes scanned the room before landing on her.

“Ms. Hart,” he said, his voice smooth but laced with an edge. “I hope you’re not easily intimidated.”

Her throat tightened.

“I’m not,” she said, forcing her voice steady. “But you’re welcome to try.”

His brow lifted slightly, as if amused by her audacity.

“Interesting,” he murmured, stepping past her. “Very interesting.”

Elena swallowed hard, her pulse racing.

Welcome to Cross Enterprises.

It's not going to be easy here !

---

what do you think will happen next?