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The Billionaire's First Choice Sarahs Love Story
The next morning, the sun had just begun to rise, casting a golden hue over the serene neighborhood where Adam and Nina lived. Birds chirped melodiously, heralding the start of a new day. Sarah, known for her adventurous spirit and love for the outdoors, decided to go for an early morning jog. Dressed in her athletic wear, she laced up her running shoes and headed out, eager to embrace the fresh morning air and clear her mind.Sarah jogged down familiar paths, her pace steady and rhythmic. She enjoyed the solitude of her morning runs, the time to reflect and rejuvenate. Lost in her thoughts, she barely noticed the figure running towards her from the opposite direction. It wasn’t until they were a few steps apart that she realized they were on a collision course. Before she could react, they slammed into each other, both losing their balance and tumbling to the ground.“Ow,” Sarah muttered, rubbing her elbow. She looked up to see a man extending his hand to help her up. His concern was
The Billionaire's First Choice Jakes Story
After meeting Andrew and Anthony's family, I couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of embarrassment that settled over me. It wasn't just the reminders of our shared past, but the stark contrast between my current state and their successes. They had achieved so much, while I was still stuck, unable to find a job because of my criminal record. The history of assault loomed over me like a dark cloud, tainting every job application I submitted. No company wanted to hire someone with my background.I returned home, where my father’s voice echoed through the house, filled with frustration and disappointment. "Jake, you need to find something to do! You can't just sit around all day!" His words were a constant reminder of my failures. My mother, though kinder in her approach, couldn't hide her worry. I knew I had to do something. The sense of being a burden, of failing to live up to even the most basic expectations, was suffocating.That night, lying on my bed, I made a decision. I would tak
The Billionaire's First Choice A Cold Reception
I stepped out of the car, my heart racing as I gazed up at the mansion. It loomed before me, a monolith of glass and steel that seemed to stretch endlessly towards the sky. The grandeur of the place was overwhelming, each detail meticulously crafted to convey an air of both luxury and impenetrable security. My nerves were on edge, a knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach as I followed Mr. Nelson up the driveway. Mr. Nelson walked with a purposeful stride, his gaze fixed straight ahead. He didn’t look back, and his silence was as imposing as the house itself. I struggled to keep pace, feeling like an outsider in this world of opulence. The mansion’s vastness seemed to mock me, each step echoing in the marble foyer as I tried to shake off the unease that had settled over me. The front entrance was a marvel of modern design, with glass doors that shimmered in the dimming light. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of inadequacy. I was just a guy trying to make a fresh start, and here I w
The Billionaire's First Choice Don't Steal Anything
The first rays of morning light filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. I stirred awake on the hard floor, the blanket I’d used as a makeshift bed bunched around me. As I blinked away the remnants of sleep, I realized I was being watched. My heart skipped a beat as I looked up to find Mr. Nelson standing over me, his gaze intense and unwavering. “Why did you sleep on my floor?” he asked, his voice devoid of any warmth or emotion. It was a question that seemed to cut right through me, exposing my vulnerability and discomfort. I scrambled to my feet, my mind racing. “I’m sorry,” I stammered, bowing deeply and repeatedly. My face burned with embarrassment, and I could feel the heat of my own shame. I hadn’t expected to be caught in such a compromising position, and the boss’s scrutiny only made it worse. Mr. Nelson’s expression remained impassive. “Okay,” he said, his voice as flat as ever. “Make me something to eat and go take a shower. You look a m
The Billionaire's First Choice With My Boss
The mansion was eerily quiet on my second evening of work. The silence was punctuated only by the soft rhythm of my cleaning. I glanced at the clock—11:15 PM. I was still unfamiliar with Mr. Nelson’s routine, so his absence was unsettling. I hoped nothing was wrong. Just then, the rumble of Mr. Nelson’s car echoed from the driveway. I set down the cloth and went to greet him. My heart pounded with a mix of anticipation and anxiety, unsure of what to expect from my employer, especially after his behavior the previous day. He stumbled through the front door, the scent of alcohol wafting into the room before he did. His usually sharp attire was in disarray, and his face was flushed. Mr. Nelson’s gait was unsteady, his movements erratic. “Evening, Mr. Nelson,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. He barely acknowledged me, mumbling a garbled response. “Evening,” he said, his voice thick with drunkenness. He staggered into the living room, bumping into furniture. As he made his
The Billionaire's First Choice A Morning After
As dawn broke, I lay in the guest room, staring at Mr. Nelson’s sleeping face. The sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over his features. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions from the previous night, and I couldn’t shake the sense of confusion and regret that lingered. I quietly got out of bed, careful not to disturb Mr. Nelson. My clothes from the night before were in disarray, and the room was filled with the remnants of our passionate encounter. With a heavy heart, I gathered the few belongings I had brought with me—my shirt and the clothes I had worn on my first day. I deliberately left behind anything Mr. Nelson had bought for me, not wanting to keep any reminders of the night’s events. As I packed my belongings, I took one last, lingering look at Mr. Nelson. His face was peaceful, oblivious to the turmoil I was feeling. I closed the door quietly behind me and stepped out into the hallway. The mansion, once imposing and grand, now felt cold a
The Billionaire's First Choice Newfound Feelings
As Mr. Nelson’s commanding voice sliced through the heavy silence, I felt a shiver run down my spine. “Jake, we need to talk.” The authority in his tone left no room for misinterpretation. I nodded, unable to speak, my throat dry with anxiety. Each step towards the house felt like a mile, the weight of the conversation pressing heavily on me. I led him inside, my heart racing with every footfall.When we reached my room, I hesitated before opening the door. The room, once a refuge, now felt like a cage, burdened with the remnants of last night’s events. I opened the door and stepped aside, allowing Mr. Nelson to enter. I followed him in and sat down on the edge of my bed, trying to steady my nerves. My hands were clammy, and I avoided his gaze as he began to walk around the room, methodically taking pictures with his phone.The room, with its disheveled bed and scattered clothes, seemed like a stark reminder of my mistakes. I watched anxiously as Mr. Nelson’s gaze scanned the mess. Ea
The Billionaire's First Choice Going Back To Work
The morning sun filtered through the blinds, casting a patchy glow on the chaotic mess that was my home office. Papers were scattered across my small folding table, and my laptop sat amidst a sea of coffee stains and half-eaten snacks. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. The confrontation with Mr. Nelson the previous day had left me shaken, and I needed to regain my composure. I glanced at the clock. It was time to head to the office. I couldn’t delay it any longer, no matter how much I dreaded facing Mr. Nelson again. I hurriedly got dressed, my hands trembling as I buttoned my shirt. The encounter from last night hung over me like a heavy cloud, and I knew I had to maintain a professional demeanor, despite the personal turbulence. The drive to the office was a blur. The city’s hustle and bustle passed by in a haze, my thoughts swirling with anxiety and anticipation. I pulled up to the sleek office building, its modern façade starkly contrasting with the disorder of m
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