The Millionaire

Justin POV

There was a knock at my office door.

"Enter," I called, taking a sip of my coffee as I sat back in my chair. Noah stepped in, followed by a group of employees.

I took a deep breath, setting the cup back down.

"These are the individuals slowing down my company?" I asked, sharply.

Noah gave a short nod.

"Sir, please don’t fire me," One of the employees—a man—stepped forward, desperation written all over his face.

"I’ve been here for nearly six years," He continued, his voice trembling. "I worked for your father before you and I’ve given this company everything. My wife is sick, I have kids about to start school and a baby at home—"

I raised a hand, cutting him off mid-sentence.

"I didn’t ask for your life story," I chuckled, my tone cold as I leaned back further.

The man’s eyes widened, but he said nothing.

"I don’t care about you or your family," I stated flatly, grabbing a file from my desk and flipping it open. "You’re fired. That’s the end of it."

The room went silent.

"Get your pathetic excuses—and the rest of you, too—out of my office," I added, my gaze sweeping across the group. "Noah stays."

Grumbles and murmurs broke out among the employees as they shuffled toward the door.

I snapped the file shut and looked up. "Did I make myself clear?"

Heads nodded quickly and they scurried out without another word.

Once the door closed, Noah let out a sigh. "Sir, have you found your perfect wife yet?"

I shook my head, leaning back again.

Noah was twenty-two—and had been working for me ever since I took over the company.

Despite his age, he was reliable and loyal, always completing assignments without fail.

If there was one person I could trust, it was him.

"Remember, it’s just for a few months, so you shouldn’t have a problem if the woman isn’t perfect, sir." He stood before my desk as I slowly rose from my chair.

"I know, but it’s not just about finding someone. I need the right woman for this job." I assured myself, straightening my tie.

"She has to be willing, of course, but not just because I’m famous or because she thinks she can get something out of it." I glanced at him briefly, waiting for him to respond.

"I need someone who’ll play the role well—I don’t need another media circus on my hands." I took a file from my desk and opened it, focusing on the contents for a moment. "And she has to be trustworthy—someone my family would never doubt."

Noah gave a slow nod as I flipped through the file in front of me.

The first name on the list stood out—a former employee who owed my father nearly half a million dollars.

Without hesitation, I left my office and began making my way down the list, visiting each employee one by one.

Office after office, I delivered the same message to those who couldn’t pay their debts by the end of the week: they were fired.

By the time I reached the last name, I was in no mood for pleasantries.

I stepped into the office. "Mr. Knight."

The man jumped to his feet, his expression filled with worry. "Y-yes?"

"You should already know why I’m here," I said, glancing at my watch. "So, let’s not waste time."

He looked confused, shifting nervously. "I don’t understand, sir."

I let out a sigh, gesturing to Noah. "Get me another coffee."

Noah nodded and left the room as I walked around the desk and sat in Knight’s chair.

He stood before me, looking more desperate by the second.

Mr. Knight had been with the company since its inception, working for my father long before I took over. That history didn’t mean much to me now.

"I’m here about the loan you borrowed from my father before he passed," I said bluntly, leaning back in the chair. "If you can’t repay the full amount by the end of the week, you’re out."

"Please, sir, don’t fire me." His voice cracked as he looked down at the floor. "I—I can give you half by the end of the week."

I rested my chin on my hand, studying him in silence.

"I have a wife and…" I cut him off with a wave of my hand.

The same tired excuses, every single time.

Noah returned with my coffee and I took a sip before speaking.

"And how exactly does that concern me?" I asked, my tone dripping with indifference.

Knight looked up at me, desperation etched into his face. "Please, sir. I will pay you—I just need more time. I’ve been struggling lately and I have daughters who need everything I can give them. I’m trying to help them become better than I ever was."

He placed a hand over his chest as though that would make his words more convincing.

"You’re fired." My tone was cold, final. I stood, coffee in hand. "Get your things and leave my company."

His head dropped as he nodded slowly.

"You’re pathetic," I added, brushing past him. "No use to me or this company anymore."

I walked out of the office without another glance, Noah falling into step behind me.

Now, it had been a week since I started searching for the right woman to play the role of my wife and so far, I’d come up with nothing.

None of the candidates had fit the standards I’d set. Either they were too desperate, too talkative, or simply not trustworthy enough to fool my family.

Time was running out and I hated wasting it.

The morning’s frustration only grew when I noticed the chauffeur slowing down in front of a small pastry shop.

"And why are we stopping here?" I grumbled as I glanced out the window.

"Well, sir," Noah began from the front seat, seated next to the driver.

He turned slightly, meeting my gaze. "You mentioned wanting to try homemade coffee for the first time and since you have to be at the office soon, I thought this place would be ideal. It’s close by and there’s usually less of a crowd."

I sighed, rubbing my temple. "Fine. Just make it quick."

The chauffeur stepped out to open my door and I adjusted my suit jacket before stepping out of the car.

Noah followed as we entered the shop.

The place was small and unassuming from the outside, but the interior had a cozy charm.

Most of the tables were already occupied—some customers indulged in desserts, while others sipped coffee and chatted quietly.

Noah managed to spot an empty table near the corner and we sat down.

Not long after, a waitress approached, her name tag reading Pearl.

She grinned as she reached our table, her gaze lingering on me longer than necessary.

"Oh my God!" She exclaimed, her voice loud enough to draw attention from the other patrons. "Justin Martínez?"

I glanced at my watch instead of giving her any attention.

Her excitement wasn’t new to me—it came with being in the public eye—but it didn’t make it any less irritating.

"It’s such a pleasure to have you here!" She squealed, her hands clenched together like she’d just won the lottery.

Noah, sensing my annoyance, stepped in. "We’d like two cups of homemade coffee, please."

He glanced at me before adding, "Would you like anything else, sir?"

"I’d like to leave." I said flatly, my gaze shifting to the door.

The waitress’s grin faltered for a second, but she quickly recovered, nodding enthusiastically before walking away.

We sat in silence, the low hum of background chatter filling the air.

I leaned back in my chair, tuning out the noise and mentally running through the growing list of things I needed to do.

Finally, the waitress returned with our order. She set the cups down with a wide smile.

"There you go—and it’s on the house." She said, her eyes fixed on me.

I forced a small, fake smile in response—just enough to give her a story to tell her friends later. If nothing else, at least she’d have that moment to hold on to.

She giggled softly before walking away and Noah lifted his cup, taking in the aroma.

"It smells delightful." He remarked, breaking the silence.

I sipped my coffee, letting the bitterness settle on my tongue. It wasn’t bad—actually, it was...memorable.

"It’s okay, I guess." I admitted, staring down at the cup in my hand.

Noah chuckled softly at my indifferent tone.

A squeal suddenly broke through the hum of conversations around us. "Bella!"

My attention shifted to the door, where a girl had just entered.

The waitress who had served us was waving her over. I watched as she smiled and made her way to the counter.

There was something about her that caught my interest instantly.

Her light brown hair cascaded in soft waves just above her waist and when she turned slightly, I caught a glimpse of her eyes—light brown, warm and inviting.

I studied her more closely, intrigued by the simplicity of her appearance.

She wasn’t studious or pretentious; she had an air of natural elegance. Her face was free of heavy makeup and she didn’t need any—her beauty was effortless.

My gaze traveled down as I tried to gauge her height. Not too tall, not too short—just right. She’d probably come up to my chest if we stood side by side.

I smirked at the thought.

Then there was her figure.

Her red dress was simple, but it hugged her body in all the right places. She wasn’t overly thin, nor did she have the exaggerated proportions of a model, but her curves were perfect.

She exuded an understated magnificence and I couldn’t look away.

I felt a familiar heat stir within me and I clenched my jaw. My cock was getting hard just watching her and damn it, I wanted her.

"I want her." I muttered under my breath, though loud enough for Noah to hear.

He turned to me, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"What? Who?" He started scanning the room.

"Her." I said again, this time with more intent, subtly tilting my cup in the direction of the girl at the counter.

Noah followed my gaze. He let out a light laugh. "The waitress? Really, sir?"

"Not her," I cut him off, my tone sharp. "The one in the red dress." My eyes stayed fixed on her.

Noah looked again and when he realized who I was referring to, he chuckled under his breath and turned back to me. "You’re serious, sir? You don’t know her?"

"If I’d met her before, she’d already be mine." I stated firmly, my voice laced with confidence.

I always got what I wanted and right now, I wanted her.

"She's one of Mr. Knight’s daughters, sir. The youngest, to be exact." Noah said, setting his cup down as I listened, fully attentive now.

"She sometimes brings lunch over to the company for him." He added.

Mr. Knight.

The last employee who begged me not to fire him—going on and on about his daughters needing everything he could give them. That was about a week ago.

How convenient.

"How come I’ve never seen her before?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at Noah.

"You’re always busy, sir," He replied matter-of-factly. "Conference meetings, interviews—drinking at night with girls, hosting models in your office when you get a rare free moment, meeting with producers, scheduling business trips, hiring and firing employees…"

"Enough," I cut him off, waving a hand. "I get it. I’m busy."

Noah shrugged, holding back a smirk.

"Well, she seems like a nice woman," He said, nodding slightly as he adjusted his iPad. "She volunteers at orphanages downtown and honestly, she’s beautiful."

I raised a brow.

He wasn’t wrong.

"Her name is Isabella Knight, though she goes by Bella. She’s twenty-one and dreams of becoming a full-time chef. She has an older sister, Jean, who’s a model." He explained, tapping his iPad.

He showed me videos of Isabella showcasing her cooking and baking skills on I*******m. She had almost a thousand followers, not too bad compared to my verified account, but her last post was months ago.

My thoughts were consumed by Isabella.

Isabella Knight.

She would be my wife. I didn’t care what it took—she was the only woman to catch my attention in a long while and I wasn’t letting her slip away.

I leaned back, smirking. "This is why I keep you around, Noah."

Noah chuckled lightly as I scrolled through a few photos of Isabella on his screen.

"So," He began, his tone a little too casual, "should I call up Mr. Knight and arrange something you have in mind, sir?"

I placed the iPad back on the table and shot him a pointed look. "You know what to do."

Noah nodded, already pulling out his phone.