The Heiress And The Billionaire's Revenge

Amelia's POV

I stood at the center of the private dining room, adjusting the last detail of the perfectly set table. The soft glow of the candles illuminated the bouquet of his favorite flowers.

Jake loved roses, white ones specifically and they stood elegantly in the centerpiece. The venue was breathtaking, but it still wasn’t as perfect as I wanted it to be for.

On the table was a 100million dollar contract deal for him. He's really stood by me through all these years and I feel like doing this will really make him happy, since he's been asking for it.

Tonight wasn’t just about his birthday. It was about showing him how much he meant to me, how much I appreciated everything we had together.

I checked the time on my phone for what felt like the hundredth time. He was late. Thirty minutes late, to be exact. My stomach twisted uncomfortably, but I told myself he’d be here any second. Jake was a busy man; I knew that.

The thought did little to calm my nerves as I glanced at the door. The anticipation that had once bubbled inside me was quickly being replaced by frustration.

“Would you like to begin serving, Miss Connells?” the waiter asked, his tone polite but hesitant.

I shook my head quickly. “No, not yet. He’ll be here soon.”

At least, that’s what I told myself. But as another fifteen minutes passed, doubt started to creep in. I pulled out my phone and called him again.

Voicemail.

“Jake, it’s me. Just wondering where you are. Call me back, okay?” I said softly, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice.

I hung up, staring at the screen as if it would magically light up with his name. It didn’t.

Another half hour passed. The once-romantic atmosphere of the room now felt suffocating. The candles, which I had lit with so much hope, mocked me with their steady flicker.

I bit the inside of my cheek to stop the tears threatening to spill. He wouldn’t just forget... would he?

Frustration bubbled to the surface, mixing with the ache in my chest. My hand tightened around my phone as I stood, walking toward the waiter.

“Cancel the party,” I said quietly, my voice shaking slightly.

The man frowned but nodded, signaling the other staff to begin clearing the table. I didn’t wait to see their pitying expressions. I grabbed my coat and walked outside to where my car was parked, the cool night air hitting me like a slap.

I pulled out my phone as my driver started the car,

So I called my best friend, Beth. She didn’t pick up.

I breathed out in frustration, letting my head rest briefly against the backseat. My driver caught my eye through the rearview mirror.

“There’s a bar not far from here, ma’am,” he said carefully. “Perhaps... I don’t know, if you’d like to relax there a bit? Cool off the stress?”

I looked at him for a second, then nodded with a faint, forced smile. “Yeah. Sure. Why not.”

The drive was short, and before long, he pulled up outside a place buzzing with music and low chatter spilling onto the street. I stepped out, tugging my coat tighter around me before walking inside.

Right at the entrance, I shrugged off my jacket and hung it on the coat rack by the door. The air was thick with music, laughter, and the smell of alcohol. It wasn’t my kind of place, too loud, too crowded, too… chaotic. But somehow, that felt fitting tonight.

I made my way to the bar counter and slid onto an empty stool.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked, wiping down a glass.

“Whiskey. Neat.”

He raised a brow but didn’t comment, simply poured the drink and placed it in front of me

I stared at the liquid for a moment, then took a slow sip, letting it burn its way down. It did little to ease the tightness in my chest

“Happy birthday, Jake,” I muttered under my breath.

“Now, what’s someone as pretty as you doing here, all alone?” The deep voice startled me, pulling me from my thoughts. I turned to see the man behind it.

He was tall, with broad shoulders that filled out his black suit perfectly. His sharp jawline looked like it had been carved by an artist, and his dark eyes, oh this man was fine. He looked like someone who knew exactly who he was and how much power he held.

I blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his presence.

“And the same goes for you,” I replied, trying to sound unaffected by his striking features.

He smirked, a small curve of his lips that somehow seemed both charming and dangerous. “Logan,” he said, extending his hand.

“Amelia,” I replied, shaking it. His grip was firm, his touch warm. Our eyes locked for a moment, longer than necessary.

“So,” Logan began, leaning slightly against the counter, “why didn’t your boyfriend show up tonight? He stood you up?”

The question caught me off guard, and I stiffened. My heart skipped a beat, and I narrowed my eyes on him. “Do I know you?”

“Maybe,” he said, his expression unreadable.

My defenses went up immediately. “He didn’t stand me up,” I said firmly, though even I could hear the uncertainty in my voice.

Logan clicked his tongue, his hand slipping into his pocket. “Are you sure about that?” He pulled out his phone and held it up to me.

Before I could respond, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He held it up, and my breath caught in my throat.

On the screen was Jake—my Jake—shirtless in bed, holding Beth, my best friend, against his chest. She was laughing, her hair a mess, wrapped in his sheets.

I froze. My blood ran cold.

“Look familiar?” Logan asked casually, as if he hadn’t just shattered my world.

I stared at the screen, my mind reeling. My chest tightened, and it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. “How… how did you get this?”

“Connections,” he replied, his tone calm.

A tear slipped down my cheek. I couldn’t stop it.

No. No, this couldn’t be real. Jake wouldn’t do this.

Beth wouldn’t...

But deep down? I had suspected something. Just not this. Not them.

“A woman of your caliber doesn’t deserve to be cheated on,” Logan said, pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket and handing it to me.

I took it hesitantly, dabbing at my cheeks as I struggled to compose myself.

“I know who you are, Amelia Connells,” he continued, his voice low and steady. “The heiress to Connells Enterprises. You don’t need to settle for someone like Jake.”

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. “What do you want from me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He leaned closer, his dark eyes holding mine. “How about a little proposal?”

"What do you mean?"

Logan smiled faintly, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “A relationship with me. For three months.”

His words hung in the air, and I stared at him, completely caught off guard. My mind raced, but no words came out.