All Chapters of His Billion-Dollar Secret: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Amara’s POVMondays hate me.No, scratch that—life hates me.First, my alarm betrayed me. I had exactly ten minutes to throw myself together and run like a lunatic down the street, hair barely tied up in a messy bun, blouse halfway tucked into a skirt that had seen better days. Then, as if the universe had placed me on its personal hit list, the bus driver thought it would be funny to drive straight through a puddle, splashing dirty water all over my legs.So here I was, dripping, exhausted, and praying to all the saints above that I wouldn’t get fired from the café today.I clutched a tray with two steaming lattes, weaving through the morning crowd. My hands trembled. Of course, they did—nerves and caffeine don’t mix well.“Careful, Amara!” Mia, my coworker, called from behind the counter.“I got it!” I lied, tightening my grip. My voice wobbled. My hands wobbled. Pretty much everything about me wobbled.And then, because fate loves to kick me when I’m down, I spun around and slammed

Amara’s POVThe elevator ride to the twentieth floor felt like ascending into another world. My ears popped with the pressure, but it was nothing compared to the pressure already sitting heavy in my chest.I hugged my portfolio against me like a shield. This internship wasn’t just an opportunity—it was survival. Months of sending out résumés, sleepless nights of doubt, and pep talks in the mirror had led me here. If I nailed this, I could finally start paying down loans and maybe, just maybe, believe I had a future beyond struggling.The doors slid open with a polished ding, revealing a reception area that looked more like a luxury hotel than an office. White marble floors. Sleek glass walls. An abstract painting that probably cost more than my entire apartment.“Good morning,” the receptionist greeted with a perfect smile. She was the kind of woman who looked like she’d stepped out of a fashion magazine—smooth bun, immaculate blazer, not a wrinkle in sight. “You’re here for the inter

Amara’s POVIf day one at Cruz Holdings had been nerve-wracking, day two felt like running a marathon with no finish line. I barely had time to sip water before Clara was piling tasks on me—printing reports, answering emails, and double-checking spreadsheets. Every time I thought I was catching up, another file landed on my desk like an avalanche waiting to bury me alive.But nothing terrified me more than the message that popped onto my screen around noon:“CEO’s office. Now.”My stomach dropped so fast I thought I might be sick. Clara glanced over, spotted the email, and gave me a sympathetic wince.“Good luck,” she whispered. “He’s… intense.”That was putting it mildly.I forced my legs to move, clutching my notepad like it was body armor. The hallway stretched before me like a tunnel leading straight to hell. Each step echoed on the marble floor, taunting me with the reminder that I was about to face the man I’d humiliated in a café just days ago.When I knocked, his voice came sh

Amara’s POVIf surviving my first week at Cruz Holdings felt like climbing a mountain, week two was like getting shoved off a cliff.By Monday morning, Damian Cruz had already decided I was his personal chew toy.“Ms. Lopez,” he called the moment I set foot in the office. His voice carried across the floor like a whip crack. “In my office. Now.”Every head swiveled toward me. Phones stopped mid-ring, keyboards paused mid-click. Great. Nothing like being summoned at 9 a.m. on a Monday to set the tone for the week. I smoothed my blazer, lifted my chin, and marched into his lair like I had a shred of dignity left.“Good morning, sir.” I said through gritted teeth.He didn’t even look up. “Define ‘good.’”I blinked. Was he serious? “Uh… the opposite of bad?”Finally, he raised his head. Those storm-gray eyes locked on me, cool and merciless. “You’re witty this morning. Let’s see if you’re competent.” He slid a flash drive across the desk like it was a weapon. “There are files on this. Sen

Amara’s POVBy Friday morning, I was running purely on caffeine and spite.If Damian Cruz thought he could wear me down by piling more work on my desk than any sane human could handle, he had another thing coming. I might have been exhausted, but I was also stubborn. And if there was one thing I refused to do, it was let him win.Still, when I opened my email to find three—three!—urgent tasks all marked “high priority” from him before I’d even had my first sip of coffee, I nearly screamed.Clara leaned over my desk, eyebrows raised. “He’s relentless. You should sue him for workplace cruelty.”“Please,” I muttered, clicking open the attachments. “If I sued him, he’d probably just counter-sue me for existing.”She giggled, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “You do bring out… a special side of him.”I shot her a glare. “What’s that supposed to mean?”She smirked knowingly. “Let’s just say he doesn’t glower at anyone else the way he glowers at you.”I groaned and buried my face in my h