Chapter 2: The Billionaire

Richard King was a man the city whispered about. His name carried both fear and admiration, like a storm that could either bring rain or destruction. At just thirty–two, he had built an empire from steel and fire. Hotels, oil companies, real estate, fashion brands—his businesses stretched across countries. And yet, people said it was his ruthlessness that made him king.

Those who tried to cross him were left in ruins. Competitors lost their companies overnight, politicians bowed at his command, and women… women fell at his feet like moths drawn to fire.

But Richard never kept them.

He was seen with models, actresses, and even married socialites, but none lasted more than a few weeks. He didn’t believe in love. He didn’t even believe in loyalty. To him, people were tools, and once they outlived their use, he discarded them.

Still, the media adored him. Magazine covers called him The City’s Most Eligible Bachelor. Others whispered darker titles: The Ice King. The Devil in a Suit. The Untouchable.

And yet, beneath all that power, there was something Richard could not admit even to himself: an emptiness that clawed at him in the dead of night.

Two days after Ella had first seen him at the junction, fate brought them together again.

Ella was on her way to campus, clutching her books close to her chest as she hurried along the main road. She had promised her mother she would take shortcuts to save on bus fare, even if it meant walking farther.

The sun blazed hot above, and sweat trickled down her back. She stopped by a small roadside kiosk to buy a sachet of water. As she tilted it to her lips, a sudden commotion caught her attention.

Cars honked loudly as a sleek convoy of black SUVs pulled to a stop right in front of her. Security men in dark suits jumped out first, scanning the surroundings like hawks. Then, from the main vehicle, Richard stepped out.

Her heart nearly stopped.

He was even more striking in daylight. His charcoal–gray suit clung perfectly to his broad frame. He removed his sunglasses, and those same sharp eyes—cold, piercing—swept across the street.

For a brief second, they landed on Ella again.

She froze, clutching the empty sachet in her hand. Her throat went dry, though she had just drunk water. It was impossible, she thought. He couldn’t possibly notice her twice. She was nobody. Just another face in the sea of poverty that lined the street.

But his eyes lingered.

It wasn’t a casual glance this time. It was deliberate, like a man who had spotted prey.

A tall, glamorous woman in heels rushed toward him. She wore a red designer dress, the kind Ella had only seen in magazines. The woman smiled widely, touching Richard’s arm as she spoke in a soft, eager voice. “Richard, darling, I didn’t know you’d be here today.”

Ella expected him to return the smile, but Richard barely acknowledged her. His gaze had already shifted back to the girl standing by the kiosk—the girl with second–hand clothes and nervous eyes.

Ella panicked, quickly turning away. She threw the empty sachet into a nearby bin and began walking fast, praying he would forget her existence.

But Richard was already asking questions.

“Who’s that girl?” he said suddenly to one of his security men, his tone clipped.

The guard followed his gaze and frowned. “Which one, sir? There are many students here.”

“The one with the books,” Richard snapped, his voice low but firm.

The guard nodded, hurrying off to make inquiries. Richard’s companion, the glamorous woman, pouted in annoyance. “Richard, really? You’re asking about some roadside girl? Come on, don’t tell me she caught your attention—”

“Silence,” Richard said coldly, and she immediately bit her tongue.

Ella reached campus, her heart still racing. She didn’t tell anyone about the strange encounter, but all through her lectures, she couldn’t focus. That man—who was he really? Why did his eyes feel like they could burn through her soul?

Meanwhile, Richard sat in his office on the top floor of a glass skyscraper, staring out at the city below. His assistant laid reports on his desk, but he barely glanced at them.

Instead, his mind replayed the image of her.

The poor girl with tired eyes and worn clothes.

Why? Out of all the beautiful, polished women who begged for his attention, why had his gaze locked onto her? Why couldn’t he look away?

Richard clenched his jaw, annoyed at himself. Obsession was weakness. He didn’t allow himself weaknesses. And yet…

He wanted to see her again.

And Richard King was a man who always got what he wanted.