Poor Heir Millionaire

He stood there next to me at the bar, charmingly attending to a group of girls who swooned over his spectacular appearance.

I had to admit it, Rhys was the most handsome guy I had met in the past week... well, the only good-looking one who had ever set foot in that stupid and secluded bar.

Yes, since I had entered that place, everyone I once thought was attractive suddenly lost their charm. Rhys, if that was indeed his real name – I still had my doubts – had turned my life upside down in just seven days.

Unbelievable, right?

Not only was his appearance striking – a bit taller than me, with reddish-brown hair and caramel-colored eyes – but his personality was a whirlwind of surprises. He was always smiling despite the difficulties he had mentioned days ago, difficulties I no longer bothered to remember.

He was a cheerful guy, as far as I could see, talkative like no other, and a womanizer, a complete charmer.

Those were the three things I had observed about him in the past few days, and I wished with all my heart that I had never known them.

"What's your age, Rhys?" one of the girls sitting at the bar asked with an unusual twinkle in her eye.

"The same age as Lucy," he replied with a bright smile, then proceeded to tousle my pink hair as he walked past me, prompting me to glare at him for his actions.

"What's your age?" the same blonde girl asked me, sounding displeased.

"Twenty-one," I huffed as I cleaned one of the many glasses we used for drinks. "But I think he's older than me, I'm not entirely sure."

"Okay, thanks," whispered her black-haired friend, the most attractive from my point of view, before they both moved to other seats closer to the annoying guy, who was now on the other side of the bar, trying to avoid them, perhaps because he was tired of their questions.

The night ended without any hitches; the girls got Rhys's number, as expected. Meanwhile, I, like a complete idiot, had to deal with drunks hurling their nonsense at me or trying to flirt. On top of that, I had to clean the bathrooms all by myself.

When we left the establishment after receiving our pay, we began to walk in silence. After all, that guy who was still a complete stranger to me now lived in my house.

How on earth had I ended up in this situation?

I rolled my eyes and immediately shoved my hands into the pockets of my jacket, satisfied with the silence of the early morning on that desolate street leading to my apartment, while recalling that fateful day when Rhys had appeared to disturb my peace.

It was a rather cozy Monday; the tables in the place were somewhat empty. There was only a group of guys drinking since we opened, and on the other side, a couple couldn't stop groping each other in the darkness while getting intoxicated with low-quality beers.

I took a deep breath, thankful that the music wasn't too loud. After all, the boss didn't really like the commotion, so as soon as he arrived, he left everything in my hands – the only waitress and "bartender" he had at the moment.

Most had been fired due to the bad weather that this horrendous place was experiencing, and with good reason, as it was the worst pub in the entire town.

The TVs were still the old ones, just like the tables and every corner you looked at. Entering there was like teleporting fifty years back in time without the slightest effort.

I dropped my head into my hands, bored with the game they were showing on TV. I remember that just when Germany scored the first goal against the Netherlands, the entrance door swung open, revealing the guy who would become my worst nightmare from that moment.

I stared at him intently. He looked a few years older, maybe about to turn 30, but his smile made him seem a bit younger. His carefree appearance included ripped jeans and a worn-out blue sweater.

He strolled in with a cigarette in hand, extinguishing it in the ashtray on the bar just as he sat in front of me, almost leaving me breathless due to the beauty he exuded.

"What would you like to drink?" I asked the guy, noticing his complete silence and amused smile.

"The strongest you've got, surprise me."

"Yes, sir," I nodded, preparing a potent cocktail with a mix of every drink that came to mind. After all, he seemed to have plenty of money, judging by the brand-name watch on his left wrist. "Enjoy."

"Thanks," he said before downing it in one go. "I'm Rhys. And you?"

"Lucy," I murmured, turning my gaze back to the TV with some displeasure.

I got irritated when those conversations started that truly didn't entertain me in the slightest. It was just an even greater waste of my time.

I watched disheartened as Germany managed to score another goal in less than a minute and proceeded to attend to the table of the group of guys signaling for me.

I put on my best forced smile, listened to their order attentively, and hurriedly brought it to them before they started bothering me, as was usual with everyone who came in. I didn't have the right attitude to serve people, and I wasn't the typical girl who should be working in a bar or, in the worst case, based on my way of speaking, looking, simply being me. Of course, there were always those interested in flirting with me.

I took a deep breath, slowly releasing the air from my lungs, completely at ease with the silence surrounding me for the moment.

The guy who went by the name Rhys gestured for another glass of the concoction I had prepared for him, and without hesitation, that's what I served.

"Have you ever fallen in love with someone?" he asked with a curious look in his intense gaze.

"No."

"Neither have I," he sighed, quite downcast. "You see, I'm almost 27 and still haven't found a woman who fulfills me, you know? I've been with many, but after one night, I get bored of them, and I don't know, I'm not ready to get married, have kids, or anything at all. I don't know what's wrong with me; I should settle down at some point, don't you think?"

"And do you think it's a good idea to ask the girl serving drinks and without a family?" I scoffed, giving him a disapproving look at how absurd his words sounded. "You're still young; don't worry and enjoy."

"Not as young as you," he commented before downing the entire glass in one go, leaving me amazed at his alcohol tolerance. "Where is your family?"

"I'm an orphan."

"Partner? Children? Own house?"

"No, no, and no," I replied sharply. "Why all these questions?"

"Curiosity," he murmured playfully, handing me the glass for another sip. "Ask me anything you want."

"I'm not that curious, unlike you."

"Then don't complain," he grumbled, winking at me provocatively. "Are you going to college?"

"No, I have several part-time jobs to survive. I barely graduated from high school a few years ago."

"I graduated from medical school and worked abroad for a while..." he told me, without a hint of pride. "I returned a few days ago, and I got the worst news in the world."

"What kind of news?”

//

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