A Billionaire For Christmas

Samantha’s POV:The clock on my dashboard blinked 7:58 a.m. as I eased my old blue car out of my apartment lot, merging onto the bustling streets of Fifth Avenue. Outside, Christmas lights draped the trees and shopfronts in glittering red and gold. It was beautiful if you were into that sort of thing. But I wasn’t. Not anymore.I’d been working as a window dresser at LeClair & Co, the most prestigious department store in Manhattan, for nearly a year now. It wasn’t where I’d imagined I’d be at this point in my life, but art wasn’t exactly paying the bills. So here I was, driving toward another day of adding sparkle to the world, all while feeling utterly dim inside.As I approached the store's parking lot gate, I spotted Mr. Jones, the morning security guard. He was bundled up against the cold, with a friendly grin on his face as he waved."Merry Christmas, Ma'am!" he called, his voice muffled by the thick scarf wrapped around his neck.I waved back and managed a smile. "Merry Chris

Julian’s POV:Christmas. The one time of year I avoided smiling or enjoying the atmosphere around me. The day reminded me too sharply of everything I’d lost. My parents were involved in a car accident that ripped my world apart. My grandmother, who took me in and gave me all the love she had left, only to pass on the very same day years later. Her last wish had been for me to give back to others, to carry on the kindness she’d shown, and I’d tried to honor that. But despite everything, Christmas remained a season of emptiness.Knock. Knock. Knock.The sound of my office door broke through my thoughts, and I looked up as Fred, my assistant, entered with his tablet in hand. I adjusted my seat, turning to face him. “What is it, Fred?”“Sir, your schedule is clear for the rest of the day. I thought maybe you’d like to go out and enjoy the evening,” he said, the suggestion hanging in the air.“Enjoy the evening?” I echoed, a faint smile on my lips. The last thing I wanted was to get ca

Chapter 5: Dating Game.Samantha’s POVWhen I got to my apartment that evening, I slammed the door in anger. "Who the hell does he think he is?" I muttered, storming into my living room. I rummaged through my bag for my phone, my fingers practically shaking as I dialed Rosy's number.Ring! Ring!! Ring!!!Finally, she picked up, but before she could get a word in, I started. “I told you that guy looked like an arrogant prick! But no, you told me not to judge a book by its cover.” I huffed, kicking off my shoes and watching them skid across the floor before I dropped onto my couch, tossing my bag aside.“Take a deep breath, Samantha,” Rosy said calmly on the other end.I inhaled and exhaled, not once, not twice, but three times, trying to get my frustration under control. “Are you feeling any better now?” she asked gently.I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “Yeah,” I replied, leaning back on the couch and closing my eyes.“Alright. Now, tell me what happened.”“Oh, where do

Julian Pov:Fred crossed his arms, leaning slightly forward. “Now, this is interesting. Why the sudden interest in Samantha, if I may ask?”I cleared my throat, attempting to sound casual. “No particular reason. Just... curiosity.”Fred didn’t buy it, his smirk widening. “Curiosity, huh? Well, let me see what I can find.” He pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts. “You know, sir, Samantha didn’t exactly seem like a fan of yours. Are you planning to apologize or something?”I shot him a look. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Fred. Just find the number.”Fred chuckled as he tapped at his screen. “Whatever you say, sir. But something tells me this isn’t the last time I’ll be hearing about her.” I sighed, already regretting asking for his help, as he handed me a slip of paper with her number on it. “Here you go,” he said with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Good luck, sir. You’re going to need it.” I rolled my eyes, pocketed the number, and went back to work, all the

Julian POV:“Dinner first,” I thought. There was a nice restaurant just a short walk from my office. It was one of those fancy places where the food was good, and the ambiance was even better. Perfect for unwinding after a long day. When I arrived, the warm lights and soft hum of conversation wrapped around me like a cocoon. I requested a table near the window, one that allowed me to watch the world pass by outside. The waiter came over promptly, pouring me a glass of water before asking for my order. I glanced at the menu, my eyes scanning the options. “I’ll take the grilled salmon with roasted vegetables,” I said. “And a side of garlic mashed potatoes.” The waiter nodded with a polite smile and left. I sipped on my water, leaning back in my chair as I watched the city lights blur through the glass. The rhythmic pulse of people coming and going outside seemed oddly soothing. As I waited for my meal, I noticed a couple seated a few tables away. They were laughing, their heads