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he said, his voice breaking into a small smile, “I get to choose what matters. And it’s not the company. It’s not the headlines. It’s you.” I wanted to argue. To tell him he was being reckless, foolish, romantic to the point of ruin. But when he kissed my forehead, all I could do was hold him — because deep down, I knew this was the beginning of something real. Not the billionaire and the artist. Just Rand and Elena. And in the quiet after the storm, that was enough.

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The house was still, hushed, almost gentle. I sat on the couch and scrolled. Not for anything in particular. Just… something. A distraction. The kind you search for when your chest feels tight and you don’t know if it’s grief or exhaustion pressing on your ribs. That’s when I saw it. A blog headline. “Billionaire’s Nanny: Savior or Social Climber? The Curious Case of May Hemlings.” My thumb hovered. Then I tapped. The page loaded slowly. Every second an anvil.

Really looked at me and pulled me closer than I was to him in a deep kiss and then said, “Let’s get you inside” My legs felt wobbly so I held onto him for balance. There’s just a hint of stubble along the sharp line of his jaw as he smirks at me and I can’t help but wonder what it looks like in the morning. “Yes please” And for the first time, I was able to take in the beauty of the mansion. It’s exactly like what I have seen in the magazines of “A DEAL OF MILLIONS OF DOLLARS HOUSES?” And I guess he is one of those Millionaires who feels there is nothing they can't buy with money. Including a virgin nineteen-year-old girl.

Breakfast was served to her while she sat frozen in place against the pillows, recalling that ghastly confrontation with Alexander during the night. A bitter laugh bubbled in her throat when she remembered her dizzy introspection during that candlelit bath. Hands up who was impressed to death by the gorgeous Italyn billionaire who had swept her to the altar! She had sat in that bath with a diamond and emerald pendant worth thousands still clasped round her neck and she had eaten handmade chocolates while nourishing romantic ideas and feelings that could only make her shudder in retrospect. Of course she was not falling in love with Alexander Bluemoon! Of course she did not admire him!

Sophie smiled coldly. “Let her.” The summit was over. But the war was just starting to breathe. Sophie woke before sunrise to silence. No alerts. No fires. No reporters. But peace made her anxious. She stood on the Burnett estate balcony wrapped in a wool robe, scrolling through a flood of headlines. “Sophie Burnett Reclaims Phoenix in Global Power Play” “Anaïs Belle Ghosts the Press After Defeat” “Camellia Emezi’s Midnight Firewall Saves Global Humanitarian Infrastructure”

Nothing as complicated as marriage yet, I just wanted to introduce her to my world. One day, she stormed into my suite with anger and betrayal clearly etched on her face. She was holding a magazine that had both our faces on it. It read, "Billionaire heir of the Martinez empire seen with Polish local. Looks like even Polish girls aren't immune to the beautiful art of gold-digging."

“This could change everything for you.” “It’s not just about money,” I shot back, my voice shaking slightly. “I won’t lose myself in this… whatever it is you want.” He studied me for a moment, trying to understand why I was so resistant. Did he really believe that taking his offer would mean losing myself? Just then, Sam rushed over, her eyes wide with worry. “Evelyn! You can’t be serious!” I turned to my friend, torn between joy and fear. “Think about it!” Sam urged. “He’s a billionaire! This is dangerous!”