45days With Mr Cold Billionaire

ARI'S POV:

"Dump his ass, Ari. I'm telling you Nathan is cheating on you."

I glared at my best friend who sat on my bed, urging me to break up with the love of my life. My boyfriend of six years.

"Mary, I called you here to help me pick out a beautiful dress for my date with Nathan, not to try and spoil my mood."

I have planned for weeks.....no months for this. Today was Nathan's birthday. I had a surprise for him. A very big surprise and I needed to be in a good mood for that.

Yet Mary wasn't helping. "I know I always wanted you to find someone and be in love. Just not him. I told you I saw him with that girl who is always insulting you at the cafe. What's her name?" She waved her fingers in the air like it would somehow summon the answer.

"Angela?" I offered, confusion etched on my face.

There's no way Nathan would do such. He knows how much Angela bullies and insults me. He was the one who said I should stay away from troublemakers like her. He hates her.

But that was exactly the name Mary was trying to remember. "Yes. Angela. The blond hair, fake body and pretentious behavior."

I closed my wardrobe door loudly, spinning to Mary whose eyes widened at my behavior. "Please Mer. Will you stop it? This is Nathan we are talking about. Nathan that has always been with me in this low moment of my life. I love him, Mer. And I'm going to marry him."

She sighed tiredly. "You're still planning on going through with the marriage proposal. Isn't he supposed to...."

"Anyone can propose, Mary. It doesn't matter as long as we are in love. Which we are. Thanks for asking."

Mary, as always sensed I was getting too agitated, stood up and crossed over to meet me, taking me into her embrace as I let out a small sob. "I'm sorry."

Sniffling, I replied. "I know you have my best interest at heart, I appreciate it but sometimes can't you be a little bit less blunt. I'm already nervous about how this proposal would go."

She gently removed me from her arms, cradling my face in her hands this time. "And I pray it goes very smoothly. So I can be happy that my best friend is finally off the market."

__________________

'The number you are calling is switched off. Your call is being moved to a voicemail."

I cut off the call.

My thumb hovered over the screen, trembling.

Two hours.

Two hours sitting at a small, draped table at Le Clair, the most exclusive restaurant in the city. A place where the air smelled like cash and the waiters all held judgement in their eyes that says you don't belong here.

I'd spent months saving for this. Skipped meals, walked instead of taking the bus, taken more shifts than I can handle. All for tonight. For Nathan.

For us.

"Another glass of water, ma'am?" The waiter, in his tailored black suit, appeared beside me. His smile was professional, polished, but his eyes flicked to the untouched second setting across from me. To the empty chair.

"No, thank you," I whispered, managing to give him a tight smile.

He nodded and moved away from my table, and to others who will really need his assistance. I could feel the stares, soft and pitying, from the other diners. The woman in an expensive glittering gown worth more than a year's salary, two tables over, glanced at me four times and murmured back to her partner.

She doesn't have to say it. I knew what she saw: a girl wearing the one decent dress she owned, her eyeliner beginning to smudge, her lipstick slowly getting wiped off from two hours of biting her lips.

My phone screen lit up. A notification. For a second, my heart lifted in a stupid hope until I saw what it was.

NATHAN❤️❤️: I'm sorry, Ari. I can't make it to today's plan. Let's meet tomorrow.

My stomach dropped as I closed the notification. Eighteen missed calls. The last text I'd sent was three hours ago: "At Le Clair. Table by the window. Can't wait to see you."

Maybe he was held at work. Nathan's boss was a devil. He always stressed Nathan out, and added more hours to his original work hours.

I can surprise him. The dinner date failed but there's the hotel. I can just urge him to come over to the hotel. So I sent a quick text, asking him to do that.

I signaled the waiter. He was beside me a moment later. "Will you be ordering, or...?"

"Just the check, please."

I paid with a card and walked out of the restaurant, a cake box held tightly against my chest. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going as I bumped hard into someone.

I let out a pained yelp, holding the box to prevent it from falling before I looked up. And that was when I saw him.

Not Nathan.

A tall man in a dark suit. He looked down at me with a cold, detached expression, his lips a thin, stern line, and his eyes. Beautiful deep blue like the sea during the night.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly, my voice trying to loosen itself.

He didn't reply. He just stepped around me and walked toward the restaurant doors like my words didn't mean anything. I was used to it

Mostly that wasn't the focus of my attention. I lifted my hand and hailed a cab. One stopped. I got in, holding the cake box on my lap.

"Where to?" the driver asked.

I don't know what got over me. "623 Westview Terrace," I recited Nathan's home address instead.

The further the cab drove, the more I could feel chills run down my body, I have no idea what it was, probably the evening breeze.

The cab stopped. I paid and got out, waiting until it drove away. I turned and looked at Nathan's house.

Even from the sidewalk, I could hear it; music, pounding through the walls. The front windows flashed with bright, colored lights. Shadows moved behind the blinds.

A party was going on.

I walked up to the front door. The music was so loud I could feel it through the wood. I knocked once, twice. No one came.

I tried the knob. It turned. The door wasn't locked.

I pushed it open and stepped inside.

It was worse inside. The music was too loud. People were everywhere. Crowded in the hall, spilling out of the living room, drinks in hand. It was no surprise. Nathan had always been the popular one.

I walked over to one of his friends. He was pressed against the wall, kissing a girl like he was trying to suck her in.

"Hey!" I shouted over the music. "Do you know where Nathan is?"

He turned toward me, staggering. He bumped into the girl, then let out a loud, sour belch.

I wrinkled my nose in disgust and waited for him to answer.

He blinked, his eyes unfocused, and slurred, "Dunno. Prob'ly bangin' some bitch upstairs."

My stomach dropped. "You're lying."

He gave me a sour look. "Then go check for yourself. And stop spoilin' my mood." He turned back to the girl, laughing against her neck. "Fuckin' pick-me bitch"

I turned on my heel and pushed through the crowd toward the stairs. I avoided stumbling bodies and sloshing drinks, my grip tight on the cake box.

I stopped at the first closed door. My heart was beating hard in my ears.

Please don't be true. Please don't be true.

I opened it. An empty bedroom.

I moved to the next door. My hand was shaking.

I pushed it open.

What I saw made my whole body go numb. The cake box slipped from my fingers and hit the floor with a soft thud. They didn't hear it.

They didn't hear anything over the sound of his grunts and her moans.

And no. It wasn't the blonde haired, fake body pretender.

The moans belonged to my best friend.

Ari's POV:

"Oh my god, harder, Nathan... yes, like that." A high, keening moan. "Oh, please, don't stop. Don't ever stop."

I bit down on my lip. Hard. But it was nothing. Nothing compared to the raw, tearing ache spreading through my chest. My heart wasn't just breaking. It was bleeding out.

He grunted, his body moving in a rhythm I knew by heart. A rhythm that was supposed to be mine. "God, never. Why are you still so tight?" In. Out. "Even after all this time."

How long has this been going on?

Her hands slid around his neck, then down the length of his back. Her long nails dug into his skin. But that wasn't what made the room tilt.

It was her wrist.

Dangling from it, was a woven bracelet. Blue, green, and a thin strand of gold.

The exact same one I was wearing.

I made them on her birthday. "So we always carry a piece of each other. Best friends for life."

That was eight years ago. Eight years of secrets, of laughter, of her holding my hair back when I was sick and me staying up all night to help her study. That she was wearing now, in his bed, while he moved inside her.

A shaky gasp tore out of me first.

It was broken and soundless

Then the tears came. "Mary. What are you doing?"

It was enough. Nathan flew off of her like her skin had burned him. Like he hadn't been inside her seconds before.

"Ari," he said, breathless, grabbing for the sheets. "What are you doing here?"

I couldn't look at him. Not with the sweat still on his skin.

Mary pulled the bedspread around herself, avoiding eye contact.

"What you saw... it's not what happened," Nathan started, his voice rushing.

That's when I turned to him.

"It's not what happened? Nathan. It's not what happened?!" My voice rose, cracking on the last word. "You weren't just fucking my best friend?"

"She came onto me first!" he blurted, taking a step toward me. "You know I would never cheat on you."

Mary stood up then, letting the blanket fall. She didn't try to cover herself.

"Is it my fault?" she scoffed, "You were the one complaining about dating her. Your friends were all laughing at you for being with a waitress." She looked right at me, her gaze hard. "And it's true. She's not on your level, Nathan. I am."

"Mary, shut up!" Nathan snapped, his voice sharp with warning.

She didn't. She screamed it.

"Why are you still with her? She's got a mountain of debt! She has no money! She's always sad, always depressed, being around her is exhausting! All she does is whine about how unfair life is!" Her next word snapped something in me. "Her mother's sick with cancer. Her mother is dying. Hell, she's dead already! I don't even know why she's still trying to live!"

My body moved before my mind could catch up. I lunged forward and slapped her, hard. Her hand flew to her cheek. But I wasn't done.

I grabbed her by her hair and yanked her forward, slamming her head into the nearest wall. Over and over again. My vision was blurred with rage, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

"Ari, stop! You're going to kill her!" Nathan grabbed my arm, pulling me back with force.

Tears were still streaming down my face, hot and humiliating. I couldn't stop them. I couldn't stop the way my chest felt like it was suffocated.

I couldn't breathe. I needed air.

I turned to leave just as Nathan reached for me again.

"Don't you dare touch me," I choked out. "I hate you. You're disgusting."

I stumbled past him, down the hall, ignoring the stunned faces in the doorway. I pushed through the crowd on the stairs.

At the bottom, someone stepped directly into my path, refusing to move.

"Oh my. If it isn't the pathetic loser." A familiar, high-pitched voice cut through the noise in my head.

Angela.

She looked down at me, a cold smile on her face.

"You're crying. Of course you are. Finally figured out your best friend was fucking your boyfriend, huh?" She tsked. "God, you're hopeless. Right under your nose, and you had no idea. Did it break your little heart?"

I didn't think. I shoved her hard.

She stumbled backward, crashing into a table loaded with drinks. Glass shattered. Liquor splashed across her dress and onto the floor. A chorus of gasps and shouts erupted around us.

I didn't stay to watch. I ran out the front door, and the cold night air hit me.

It was only then I noticed the sky was crying too.

When did it start raining?

I walked without direction, my arms wrapped tightly around myself. The rain soaked my thin dress, mixing with the tears still streaming down my face.

I found a park, and let the sobs finally break free when I sat on a swing. Ugly, wrenching cries that shook my whole body.

My phone buzzed in my purse. I fumbled with numb fingers, pulling it out.

"You picked up! So? How was it? Did he say yes?" Her voice was bright, impatient. "I know I said I'd wait till you got back, but I couldn't....."

She stopped.

"Wait... Ari? What's wrong? Sis, are you crying? Are you outside? It's raining... I can hear it."

My breath hitched. "Lena," I whispered, my voice raw. "Please... come get me."

"Where are you?"

"In a park."

I don't know how I got home.

When I came to be, I was in our living room, stripped down to my underwear. A warm blanket was wrapped around my shoulders, and a mug of something hot was pressed between my cold hands.

Lena walked in with her own mug and sat close beside me on the couch. She was already in her pajamas. Guilt consumed me. I'd dragged her out in the middle of the night.

Before I could open my mouth to apologize, she spoke first.

"Don't," she said softly. "Don't apologize for calling me. Just tell me what happened. You were supposed to be at that fancy dinner, not sitting alone in the rain."

Tears welled up instantly, blurring the steam rising from my mug. "Nathan cheated on me."

Her face hardened. "That son of a bitch. Mary mentioned something like that the other day. I thought she was joking." She reached for her phone on the coffee table. "Does she even know? I can call her....."

"No," I cut her off, my voice low and tired. "Nathan cheated on me... with Mary."

Lena went perfectly still. "Mary? Your Mary? Your best friend in the whole world?"

I let out a hollow laugh. "Yeah. My best friend in the whole world." I looked up at the ceiling. "I'm such a fool. And a bad daughter. All because of that stupid surprise, I spent everything. I only have a little left for Mom's treatment now."

Lena wrapped her hand around my wrist. "Don't. Don't you dare feel guilty. You've done more than anyone could ask for. You deserved something nice for yourself, even if it... didn't go how you planned." She paused, her voice softening. "Which brings me to the other thing. I wasn't sure how to tell you."

My heart skipped. Was she being kicked out of school? Had the tuition payment bounced?

"I sent your information to Blackwood Holdings," she said in a rush. "They posted an opening. A secretary or assistant position. It didn't require a degree, just strong organizational skills and... resilience. I sent them your details last week."

I turned to stare at her like she'd lost her mind. "Lena. What would a company like Blackwood Holdings want with a university dropout? They hire from Ivy Leagues, important universities."

"Their posting said all backgrounds would be considered," she insisted, her eyes pleading. "Ari, please don't shut this down before it even starts. Let's just... hope. Maybe this could be our chance. Our light in this dark tunnel."

And I did. I let myself hope. Not that I had any more choice.

ARI'S POV:

Talk about a light in the tunnel.

Right now, my tunnel was caving in.

I lost my bartending job two days ago. I caught a cold and was down with a fever. Called in for a sick leave, and the next day, my job was replaced by someone else. Just like that.

It doesn't matter how hard you work....or love. You're always replaceable.

The thought was familiar. It didn't even hurt anymore.....who was I lying to?

Now my second job, the morning shift at the Café, was all I had left. Ever since that night, I'd been walking around wrapped in a kind of numb, heavy silence. There was the burning anger, but mostly, it was empty, hollow.

My heart didn't just hurt; it locked up in pain. You can't miss what you don't let in.

I'd trusted two people with everything, and they'd handed me back the pieces. Love wasn't a comfort anymore. It was a wound I wouldn't let anyone reopen. Not ever again.

Was I that unlovable that everyone keeps on abandoning me?

"Ari, you good? You're zoning out again."

Chloe was staring at me, a worried line between her brows. I'd been standing there, holding a dirty rag, staring at the smudged surface of the counter like I could wipe away the memory of Nathan's face, Mary's voice, the sound of them together.

Stop. Don't go back there.

I forced a smile. "Yeah. Just tired."

She didn't look convinced, but she nodded and turned back to the espresso machine. I was grateful she didn't push. I couldn't talk about it. If I started, I might never stop.

The morning rush was about to start. I took a deep breath, bracing myself for the noise, the smiles.

Just get through the shift. Don't feel. Just move. Think about Mom's treatment. Lena's tuition deposit. Rent: due in nine days..

The bell above the café door chimed.

The morning rush began. I picked up a tray, forced another smile, and went to work.

The café door chimed again.

Angela walked in, surrounded by her usual clique. My stomach tightened. I hadn't seen her since the night of the party.

She slid into a booth by the window, her eyes finding mine immediately. A cold, slick smile spread across her face.

I walked over to take their order, my pen and notepad felt heavy in my hand.

"Well, look who it is," Angela said, faking enthusiasm. "The help. Doing your daily slave labor, Ari?"

Her friends snickered.

I kept my face blank, my eyes lowered to the notepad.

Don't react. Just take the order and leave.

"What can I get for you?"

She took her time, dragging out each word, making a show of looking over the menu she already knew by heart. Finally, she rattled off a complicated drink and a pastry. Her friends followed.

I wrote it all down without a word, turned, and walked away.

At the counter, my hands shook slightly as I prepared their drinks. Chloe glanced over, her brow furrowed, but I shook my head. It's fine.

I brought the tray, setting their item carefully.

Angela picked up her cup, took a tiny sip, and made a face. "This isn't what I ordered," she said, her voice loud enough to turn a few heads. "I asked for an iced caramel macchiato with extra caramel drizzle. This is practically bare."

I didn't argue. "I'll remake it."

I took the cup back, my jaw tight. At the espresso machine, I made the drink again, exactly as she'd described.

When I set the new glass in front of her, she didn't touch it. She just stared at it, then up at me, her eyes gleaming.

Then she pushed the drink away. "You put milk in this," she said, her voice now echoing in the quiet café. "I told you I'm lactose intolerant. Are you trying to make me sick?"

My tongue was tied in my mouth.

Angela leaned forward, dropping to a whisper. "You really are as stupid as they say, aren't you? No wonder Nathan dropped you for Mary. He said sleeping with you felt like pity."

I didn't say a word. I picked up Angela's freshly remade drink from the table and poured it slowly over her head. Iced coffee and caramel drizzle slid down her hair, her face, her expensive blouse.

She gasped, stunned, but I wasn't done.

One by one, I grabbed each of her friends' drinks_the lattes, the americanos, the smoothies_and dumped them on her. They shrieked, scrambling back from the booth, but I kept going until the last cup was empty and Angela sat soaked and sputtering in a puddle of brown liquid and melting whipped cream.

The café was dead silent.

I placed the last empty cup neatly on the table. "Now you look like what you are. Shallow, bitter, and full of shit."

The café door to the back office burst open.

Manager Ross rushed out, his face already pinched with irritation. "What's all this...?"

He stopped. His eyes swept from Angela to the empty cups on the table, to me standing calmly beside the booth with my apron still clean and my hands at my sides.

His face darkened. "Ari. My office. Now."

I looked at him, then at Angela, who was beginning to tremble, whether from embarrassment or rage, I couldn't tell.

I didn't wait for him to say it. I could see it in his eyes as I untied my apron slowly, folded it once, and laid it neatly on the counter.

"Don't stress yourself, Ross," I said, my voice steady, though something inside me was crumbling. "I'm already leaving."

I didn't look back at anyone. I just walked out the front door, the bell chiming softly behind me for the last time.

The strength that had burned through me moments before vanished. My knees felt weak.

I just lost my last job. What now?

I pushed the thought down. I couldn't afford to spiral. Not yet. I had nowhere to be. No shift to rush to. .

I need to find a new job. Start again.

The thought was exhausting. I'd have to scour listings, walk into places, smile, pretend I wasn't one bad day away from breaking. And pray I wouldn't run into Angela .

But that was for later.

Right now, it is still morning. Visiting hours at the hospital had just begun.

At least there was one place I was still needed. At least there was one person who wouldn't look at me and see a failure.

I reached the hospital and walked the familiar, quiet hallway to her room. The nurse at the station gave me a soft look as I approached.

"She just drifted off, sweetie," she said gently. "Had a rough night. Let her rest."

I nodded, my throat tight. I didn't go in.

Instead, I slid down the wall outside her door, my back against the cool plaster. I drew my knees to my chest and just sat there on the floor.

Inside, my mother was. Fighting. Surviving.

Out here, I was just... waiting. Trying not to fall apart.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

I pulled it out slowly. An unknown number flashed on the screen. My stomach dropped.

It must be one of the debt collectors.

I let it ring twice more, my thumb hovering over the decline button. But ignoring it wouldn't make it go away.

I swiped to answer and brought the phone to my ear, bracing myself. "Hello?"

"Am I speaking to Ms. Ari Johnson?" The voice on the other end was professional, and utterly unfamiliar.

"Yes... this is she."

"Good morning. My name is Martin Vance, executive secretary at Blackwood Holdings. I'm calling to inform you that your application has been shortlisted. You are scheduled for a preliminary interview tomorrow morning at 8 a.m. sharp at our corporate headquarters."

The words didn't process at first. They floated somewhere in the air between the sterile hospital walls and my numb mind..

"Ms. Johnson?"

"Yes," I breathed, my voice barely a whisper. "I-I'll be there."

"Excellent. Details have been sent to the email on your application. Please arrive fifteen minutes early. Good day."

The call ended.

I lowered the phone and stared at the blank screen. Outside my mother's door, on the cold hospital floor, a tiny crack of light split the dark.

I had an interview.

I had a chance.