Billionaire's Passionate love

A huge smile played on my lips as I watched a couple enjoying their meal, my grin widening even further at the sight of a mother helping her one-year-old eat. The scene brought a profound warmth to my heart.

Please, don't mistake me for a café owner or some prestigious restaurant chef. I am merely a baker in a small café tucked away in the side streets of Paris. I have always been one of those shy girls who loves to hide behind the counter, watching from the safety of the kitchen as people enjoy their meals. Nothing makes me happier than hearing people praise the food I've cooked, especially when they leave a generous tip for my efforts.

"Chocolate soufflé at table number nine," Nina, one of our servers, called out. I flashed her a smile and immediately set to work on the order.

I smile; I always smile. People might think I'm weird, believing that no one could possibly keep smiling after everything I have endured. Yet, I continue to smile, even after losing everything over these last seven years. Those who are aware of the miseries of my life likely view me as a fool who simply keeps grinning. However, my psychologist taught me that the solution to every problem is to smile. So, I do-hiding my pains and fears in the silent depths of my heart.

"Chocolate soufflé is ready!" I announced once the dessert was perfect. I garnished the tray and pushed it out toward Nina before immediately pivoting to the evening special-an experimental dish I've been perfecting.

"What are you baking, sweetie?" Betty asked as she entered the kitchen. She inhaled the aroma with delight, and I knew right then that my dish had passed its first exam. Betty can tell with a single breath whether my experiments are a success or a failure.

Betty has been a mother figure to me, the woman who supported me when I was running from my own demons. She was the one who gave me shelter. She personally taught me how to cook and bake, providing me with this job while understanding my fragile mental state at the time. Back then, I wasn't in any condition to meet strangers, so she gave me my own specialized baking unit where I rarely had to contact anyone.

She was the one who pushed me toward the psychologist who changed my life, molding me into the woman I am today. She was the one who stood by my side at the time of... I shook my head, refusing to go back to that part of my past again. I completed the dish and served a portion to Betty.

"Now, give me your critic's review, Master Chef," I said, placing the plate in front of her with a wide smile.

Betty returned the smile, tasting the dish. A look of joy appeared on her lips before she pushed a spoonful into my mouth. I moaned in delight; my experiment was a certified hit.

"What's special today?" my best friend, Saphia, asked as she came in, caught by the scent of the dessert.

Betty chuckled at Saphia before handing her the plate and leaving the two of us alone. Saphia was the first person in the café to truly break the ice with me. She is a girl who lives for fresh air and new experiences. She has a habit of hopping from one job to another, but she works for Betty part-time. In her own words, she 'can't leave Betty as long as I'm working here because she's addicted to my desserts.'

Saphia is a part-time server, and as for her unique name-an astrologer once predicted that the letter 'O' was unlucky for her. Consequently, she changed her name from Sophia to Saphia. She is the type of person who can leave anything and change everything, except for her love of my desserts and her childhood boyfriend, David.

"Saphia, to table number five, now!" Betty ordered, noticing the café filling up with the evening crowd. Saphia finished her plate in a hurry and ran out to work, while I began baking the rest of the evening orders.

"Ouch!" Hot oil suddenly splashed, landing on my skin and turning it a bright red. Seven years ago, I would have thrown a tantrum over a simple burn, but that Olivia no longer exists. I simply blew air on the burn before getting back to work.

I kept baking through the peak evening hours, the time when employees who don't want to eat at home come rushing in. Sometimes the café is completely empty late at night, but most of the time, families come in groups to enjoy the cuisine we serve.

"Finally, the shift is over. There was such a rush today," Saphia breathed heavily once we reached the employees' room.

"Right. The rush was good today, and most of the orders were for desserts. I'm exhausted now," I admitted, yawning as I stretched my body and sat on the bench beside her.

Saphia handed me a bottle of water, which I finished in a single gulp. "We should go home. It's very late," I pointed out.

"Yes," Saphia agreed, standing up and heading to the changing room. I walked to my locker, removed my apron, and grabbed my handbag. I waited at the exit for Saphia, who arrived shortly after changing.

"Let's go," we said as we walked toward the exit. "Need a lift?"

As always, I shook my head. My apartment is only two blocks from the café, and I prefer the walk. Since Saphia's house is in the opposite direction, I never want to take a lift and waste her time.

"I know it's a waste of time to argue with you," she said, shaking her head. "Okay, ciao! See you tomorrow." With a wave of her hand, she left me alone on the street, and I began the walk home.

Suddenly, anxiety and fear flooded my nerves-a creepy sensation that someone was following me. I turned around to find no one, but my sixth sense screamed otherwise. I increased my speed, almost running toward my building, only to hear the distinct sound of footsteps following me. I knew then that I wasn't alone.

My heart squeezed in terror as I imagined him following me. What if my demon had found me? If it was him, he would surely kill me this time after fulfilling his ruthless demands. My heart beat frantically at the thought of him being the one in the shadows.

Sweat formed on my forehead as I sprinted the final few yards. Reaching my apartment, I fumbled in my bag for my keys, my hands shaking so hard I could barely hold them. That was when I felt a shadow fall over me from behind, making my heart skip a beat in pure terror.

"Don't let it be him," I prayed to God, drenched in sweat. "Please, don't let it be him."

Murmuring the same prayer over and over, I slowly turned around to look at the person standing there.

Ethan's POV

"Go and prepare these reports again," I shouted, my gaze fixed on my employee, who had turned a sickly shade of pale under my scrutiny.

Who did they think they were? That they could make a mistake and I would simply bear with it? King Enterprises had not reached such heights because of fools like him; it was built on my hard work-the sweat and blood I had poured into this company over the past four years. For four long years, I had worked my ass off, and today, I have finally brought my company into the ranks of the top three in the world.

I was Ethan King, believed to be a ruthless billionaire who would do anything to secure a deal. How true that was, especially now, as I searched desperately for a wife just to satisfy an investor. The man thought I was unsuitable for the project simply because I was young and unmarried-claiming he couldn't trust a man without a family. How foolish of them!

"Why are you looking at my face?" I shouted again, casting a cold, piercing look at my employee. "Just go and prepare the file again."

"But sir, it's just one mistake," the man stammered.

"One mistake?" I raised a brow, the air in the room turning frigid. "You know one mistake can change a person's life forever. Now, go and change the word. I want the new file printed within five minutes, otherwise, pack up your table and leave my office. One second late and you will be fired," I warned him.

Well aware of my reputation, he snatched the files and rushed out of the office as if he had fire on his tail. I knew he would be back within the time limit. I leaned back in my chair, attempting to relax, and returned to my work.

Exactly four minutes and twenty seconds later, the same employee knocked and entered the office, breathing hard.

"Sir, the final reports," he panted. I nodded, taking the reports from his hand only to discard them immediately into the dustbin. His face went ashen as he watched his hard work hit the trash.

"What?" I yelled. "Did you expect I would be waiting for you to deliver them? I already mailed the figures myself. Now go and do your work. This time, no mistakes, or you know the consequences."

With a wave of my hand, I dismissed him. He left with a hung head while I continued to work, using the labor as a passion-or perhaps a distraction-to forget my past. I needed to forget the bloody history that still haunted my nights, and I needed to forget her, the one I had loved so passionately.

"What was that?" I rolled my eyes at the sound of my best friend Dylan's voice.

I often questioned why I had given him the position of Vice-President when his only real job seemed to be giving me lectures about my behavior toward the staff.

"What do you want now?" I asked, my voice dripping with irritation as I tried to ignore his presence.

"Stop ignoring me," he sighed. "You know why I'm here. This isn't right, Ethan; the way you treat your employees like they're slaves."

"For your information, I pay them, and it's my right to demand perfection," I gritted my teeth. "They have no right to run to you just because they were punished for their own incompetence."

"But it was just one freaking mistake, and you made him redo the whole thing for nothing," Dylan raised his voice, hitting a topic that was far too sensitive for me.

"Just shut up, Dylan!" I yelled, slamming my hands onto the desk as I stood up. "You know very well that one mistake can take a life! You know how my life changed because of one error, so don't you dare take his side or call it a 'small' mistake!" I pointed an angry finger at him.

He sighed visibly and shook his head in disappointment. "Until when, Ethan? Until when will you keep feeling guilty for a mistake you never actually committed? How long will you punish yourself with this lifestyle that doesn't even suit you? How long will you act like this heartless jerk?"

He yelled with frustration, but I simply turned back to my laptop.

"Are you hearing me?" he shouted, snapping his fingers in front of me. "Don't act smart. I know you're intentionally ignoring me."

He tried to force a word out of me, but I remained silent, focused on the screen.

"If you're finished with your little performance, leave my office. I don't have time for your bickering," I dismissed him again.

"You..." he gritted his teeth. "Fine. Now I'm actually happy you gave me the duty of finding you a wife. Just wait and watch, Mr. King. I will find a wife who will bring my old friend back."

He left the office, huffing and puffing. I shook my head once he was gone. His warning felt hollow; there was no one in this world meant for me. No one who could understand me, let alone love me. I was a heartless, cold man. Whoever married me would only regret it; they wouldn't change me.

"Sir, Mr. William is waiting in the conference room," my personal assistant informed me. Without a second glance at her, I left the cabin and headed toward the meeting.

I felt a dark satisfaction noticing how my employees shivered as I passed their cubicles. I also noticed the flirtatious smiles from some of the women, which I returned with a cold smirk. I loved the effect I had-men feared me, and women threw themselves at me.

After hours of meetings, I left the office late at night and went directly to the club, just as I did every night. I took my usual booked seat, and the bartender served my daily strong drink. I gulped it down, desperate to numb the miseries of my life. My eyes scanned the dance floor until I noticed a woman in a sexy red dress.

"Hey, sexy," I whispered into her ear as she danced. I wrapped my arms around her waist, turning her toward me. She smiled, pushing her chest against mine.

"I like that," I commented, my eyes trailing down. I leaned in, trailing wet kisses against her skin. "You're so hot, babe." I pinched her hip, and a moan escaped her lips. That was it. I was done waiting. I pulled her against me, and she wrapped her legs around my waist.

"Let's give you some pleasure, mister," she whispered breathlessly, kissing me hard. I let her dominate the kiss as I carried her toward my private, reserved room.

Once inside, I pushed her roughly against the wall, tearing her dress apart in one swift move until she was only in her red lingerie.

"Someone is in a hurry," she giggled. I didn't reply. I freed myself and entered her hard and fast. She moaned like a cat, her fingers digging into my skin. Her heels dug into my back, but I didn't care; the pleasure was a distraction. I threw all my frustration into her, position after position. I didn't care if it was pleasure or pain for her; she was just my dose for the night. After three hours of using her to release my demons, I finally fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

Olivia's POV

"You scared the hell out of me, Dylan!" I yelled at my friend. My breathing was harsh with fear. When I turned around to see the hand on my shoulder, I realized it was just Dylan, who always loved these idiotic pranks.

But why was he here? It had been two years since I last heard from him.

"You should have seen your face! You looked like you'd seen a ghost," he teased, breaking into laughter.

"Don't laugh, Dylan," I said, throwing my bag at him. "You know about my nightmares. I just thought... I thought it was him." My voice went dull.

Dylan's laughter stopped instantly. He gripped my shoulders. "Do you still have them? The nightmares?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I take sleeping pills every night, so I don't stay awake long enough to find out."

He ran his fingers through his hair, looking irritated. "I'll never forgive that bastard for what he did," he cursed under his breath.

"Anyway, what are you doing here?" I tried to change the topic. I didn't want to dig into the dark past or see him get angry on my behalf.

"Are we going to talk at the door? Won't you invite me in?"

I shook my head and pushed the key into the hole. Dylan placed his hand over mine, helping me turn the lock before inviting himself into my small home.

"You really should leave this shabby room," he commented, eyeing my one-bedroom apartment.

"Keep your unwanted advice to yourself," I snapped, throwing a sofa pillow at his face. I slumped onto the couch, and he sat beside me.

"Don't tell me you sleep on this dirty sofa," he said with disgust. I rolled my eyes. Dylan was rich; this life didn't make sense to him. I used to feel the same way, but I had learned to adjust. I had started to love this sofa because it was the only place I felt safe enough to sleep.

"Now tell me, why has your majesty decided to show his grace at my door?" I asked sarcastically.

Dylan sighed and moved to a chair, pulling it close so he could look me in the eye. His leg brushed my knee, and he immediately apologized, his expression turning grave.

"I want something from you that only you can give. I know it won't be easy, but you have to do this for me."

"Stop confusing me and get to the point," I yelled. "I have a job to get to in the morning."

He leaned in. "I want you to marry someone."

"Excuse me?" I stared at him in disbelief. "Tell me that's a sick joke. You know I can't marry anyone." I stood up, giving him a pointed look.

"Please listen, Livi," he pulled me back down. "I've come here with so much hope. Only you can marry my friend and change his life. And it will change yours, too. It will give you back the life you deserve. This garbage apartment isn't your real place."

I shook my head. "How can you ask me to marry a stranger after everything that happened?"

"He isn't a stranger," Dylan sighed. "The person is Ethan."

My breath hitched. My heart, which had felt dead for years, suddenly jolted to life. Flashes of piercing blue eyes filled my vision-the eyes that used to watch me with so much love. I could almost feel his soft lips against mine. He still had this effect on me, even after all this time.

"You know Ethan better than anyone. Marry him. Change his life," Dylan pleaded.

"No," I turned away. "I can't marry him and destroy his life."

"Destroy it?" Dylan chuckled sarcastically. "Livi, his life is already destroyed. He's not the Ethan you knew seven years ago. He's changed. Please, save our friend."

"I can't. I'm broken."

"He's broken too! He's just a shell of a man," Dylan turned me to face him. "He's planning to marry a random girl just for a business deal. He's a heartless king now. He's not that happy, bubbly boy who loved you more than anything. Haven't you seen the news?"

I shook my head. He cursed and pulled out his phone, tapping furiously. "Look at these articles."

My heart skipped a beat. The screen was full of photos of Ethan stumbling out of clubs, drunk, with different women in his arms. My eyes filled with tears. He looked so hurt, so lost beneath the "ruthless" exterior.

"See? He's changed," Dylan said, wiping a tear from my cheek. "Only you and your love can fix him."

"I don't love him," I protested weakly.

He laughed, not believing me. "Your tears say otherwise. Your high school story isn't a secret, Livi."

"It was a teenage crush," I dismissed, but he just shook his head.

"Don't lie. I know you still love him. You called his name two years ago. You cry for him in your sleep."

I looked away, knowing he was right. I had been waiting for Ethan for seven years, even after the incident that ruined my life.

"Marry your Ethan," he lifted my chin. "You won't regret it. You're both just existing right now. Give each other the love you deserve."

"I don't know... it's so sudden."

"If it's not you, it'll be someone who will use him, and he'll destroy them in return. Marry him for his peace of mind."

I dropped my head into my hands. My world was spinning. By morning, I was supposed to be at the cafe, not deciding to marry my first love.

"Think of high school, Livi. Your decision can change everything."

Slowly, I nodded. My life was already in pieces; if I could help him, maybe my life would have meaning again. And deep down, I still loved him. I wanted to be near him, even if he threw me away once he learned the truth about my past.

"Don't worry," Dylan smiled. "He has a dark past, too. He'll understand you."