Noah's POV
I was back in my office.
Back to reality.
Back to work mode.
Back to being the man everyone expected me to be—the one with no distractions, no softness, no loose ends.
The city skyline stretched endlessly beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, the late-morning sun shimmering against the glass. It should've been calming. It wasn't. Not today. Not with everything racing through my head.
Stans Industries.
One of the biggest real estate empires in the country. A company that didn't just build structures—they built skylines, cities, legacies. And somehow, by some miracle or sheer Prescott-level competence, we still had their contract through our construction company subsidiary.
It was the kind of deal that made or broke companies.
If we pulled this off flawlessly, we'd be six hundred and fifty million dollars richer.
Six. Hundred. And. Fifty. Million.
I could not screw this up.
Yes I was a billionaire by Forbes standards but father thought me to be a hard worker, didn't matter how much was in your bank account and strictly why I didn't want the General manger of our subsidiary to handle it alone.
My desk was covered in files—a chaotic mess of spreadsheets, environmental impact reports, architectural proposals, and thick legal documents. I had gone through half of them already, but it still felt like trying to drink from a fire hydrant.
I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples. My brain felt like it had been wrung dry.
I needed a drink. A sharp one.
I stood, crossed the office, and poured myself a whiskey from the mini-bar in the east corner, never too early for a drink. The liquid burned its way down my throat, grounding me, anchoring me back into the man I needed to be.
Work first. Always work first.
But then—
Her name slipped into my mind.
Uninvited.
Unavoidable.
Amelia.
My sweet, beautiful Amelia.
My mind went blank for a full minute as the memory hit me—her saying my name breathlessly as she came apart under me, the way she clung to me like I was the only thing holding her to the earth, the way she melted in my arms afterward.
It was the softest I'd ever seen her.
And the most undone I'd ever felt.
God, she was sunshine. She was trouble. She was everything I didn't know I needed.
Was I in love?
The thought slammed into me with terrifying clarity.
My dick twitched at that thought and I put my hands to calm it down.
I swallowed hard, unsure whether the warmth in my chest was from the whiskey or the realization.
Before I could get too deep into that dangerous territory, the door opened.
"Your meeting is starting in the conference hall," Sadie said, interrupting the spiral of my thoughts.
I didn't look up immediately.
"I'll be there," I said, setting my glass on the desk and gathering the nearest stack of files.
But she didn't leave.
"Noah… can we talk?" she asked quietly, closing the door behind her.
I finally looked at her.
Sadie stood in a burgundy dress that hugged her figure, paired with red-bottom heels. Her blonde waves framed her face perfectly, and she looked—well—beautiful. But not in a way that stirred anything in me anymore. Not the way Amelia did.
"What about?" I asked, a bit sharper than intended.
She stepped closer, her expression softening with something like guilt.
"I didn't mean to interrupt your date with Amelia," she said. "We just had a crisis on our hands at the office."
I exhaled, sitting down.
"It's okay. I'm glad you called. If I hadn't handled it, it could've been a complete shit show." wanting to put this behind me, I have a project go work on and I need my executive assistant.
Relief washed over her face. She nodded.
"Good. I'm glad we're on the same page."
She turned to leave, but halfway to the door, she paused. She hesitated—then spun back toward me.
"Then maybe…" She swallowed, voice dropping. "Maybe we could grab drinks after work today?"
There was a hint of desire there. Or maybe I'd been oblivious for too long.
Either way, it was a no.
"There would be no need for that, Sadie," I said gently but firmly. "But I appreciate the gesture."
She tried to smile, but the defeat in her eyes said everything.
"Sure," she murmured, then walked out.
The second the door clicked shut, I sighed.
I wasn't blind. I knew Sadie had feelings for me—hell, it started back when she was an intern and I was just an entry-level analyst. My father used to pair us on projects constantly, he said he wanted her to learn the ropes, which I gladly obliged but we spent more time in and out of the office, she became a part of our family and my father adored her and frankly Sadie was a hard worker and I admired her work ethic.
And yeah… we shared a kiss once and we almost had sex once.
Seven years ago.
Young. Naïve. Barely adults.
There was a time I thought I could like her. Maybe even more. But that time was past. People grow. They evolve. And I wasn't about to lead her on. Not now. Not ever.
Not when my heart was already occupied.
I straightened my tie, grabbed the main Stans Industries file, and headed for the conference hall where my entire team was waiting.
Every hand needed to be on deck.
And I needed to get my head on straight—business first, feelings later.
The moment I stepped into the conference hall, the low hum of conversation stopped.
My entire executive team sat around the long glass table—engineers, architects, legal, finance, PR—everyone who had a hand in Stans Industries' three-hundred-and-fifty-million-dollar expansion project.
They looked up at me like I was the quarterback entering the fourth quarter with the season hanging in the balance.
"Good morning," I said, dropping the heavy folder onto the table. "Let's get straight to it."
Sadie was already at her seat, composed, her earlier embarrassment tucked behind her calm mask. She gave me a brief nod as I took the head of the table.
I opened the file.
"Stans Industries has made it clear: they expect full site assessments, environmental reports, and revised architectural drafts within two weeks."
A few people visibly paled.
"And," I added, "they want a full cost breakdown and timeline before the end of the month. Which means we need to move like our lives depend on it."
Laughter—nervous, thin—rippled through the room.
I didn't smile.
"I'm not joking. If this deal slips, Prescott Holdings loses its biggest client."
Architect Jacob raised his hand. "We're already behind because of the zoning complications."
"I'm aware," I said. "Which is why Legal is doubling manpower. Finance will revise the budget daily, not weekly. And engineering—" I pointed at the lead engineer, Wilson— "I want progress reports every forty-eight hours."
He nodded. "Yes, sir."
Sadie clicked a button and the projector lit up, displaying timelines, structure models, soil analysis, and preliminary blueprints.
"We're confident we can meet the deadlines," she said, "but we'll need executive authorization to bring in two external consulting firms."
"Approved," I said immediately. "Whatever you need, take it."
There was a visible shift in the room—determination settling in like armor.
Good.
Because failure wasn't an option.
"Alright," I said after another thirty minutes of assigning tasks and deadlines. "Check your inboxes in an hour. I'll send out the updated roadmap."
Everyone started gathering their files.
The meeting went as well as it could… until—
My phone buzzed.
Once.
Then again.
Then again.
Text after text. Notification after notificnotification.
My wrist buzzed, my phone buzzed, my iPad buzzed on the table.
Sadie frowned. "Is everything okay?"
Before I could answer, my CFO, Darren, burst into the conference hall holding his phone like it was a bomb.
"Noah you need to see this."
He handed it to me.
And my stomach dropped.
There we were.
Me and Amelia on the beach house balcony.
Her in my shirt, barefoot, laughing.
Me standing behind her with my hands around her waist.
Caught in perfect lighting.
Trending on one of the biggest gossip blogs in the country:
"MYSTERY WOMAN SPOTTED WITH BILLIONAIRE HEIR NOAH FROST — BEACH GETAWAY OR SECRET ROMANCE?"
#WhoIsShe
#FrostsNewFlame
#MysteryGirl
Fuck.
My blood ran hot.
Sadie gasped.
The entire room went silent.
"I thought you said the island was private," she whispered.
"It is," I growled. "At least… it was supposed to be."
Within seconds, half the staff's phones lit up with notifications.
Then—
BAM.
The conference room door flew open again.
My PR director, Elena, came rushing in, already on a call, waving wildly.
"We're in trouble," she said breathlessly. "Huge trouble."
"Define 'huge,'" I said.
She flipped her iPad toward me.
It was everywhere.
Instagram. Twitter. TikTok.
News outlets already reposting the photos.
And the comments—
"Who's the girl?"
"Lord, he moves on fast."
"She looks young—how old is she?"
"Is she the reason he cancelled last weekend's fundraiser?"
"Plot twist: she's probably married."
Elena ended her call and turned to me.
"We need a statement. Now."
"No," I said. "No statement."
"You don't understand," she snapped, pacing. "The media is losing their minds. We already have five interview requests. Three tabloids want to run a full story by noon. Someone is claiming she's your secret fiancée. Another swears she's your mistress."
Jesus Christ.
I felt myself growing angrier by the second.
Amelia didn't deserve this.
Not the attention.
Not the speculation.
Not the humiliation.
This was my world—messy, invasive, vicious—and I brought her into it. I exposed her to something she never asked for.
"Elena," I said through clenched teeth, "shut it down."
"We're trying," she said. "But once something's viral—"
"I said shut. It. Down."
She swallowed hard and nodded.
Sadie's voice broke the chaos.
"Noah… does she know yet?"
I froze.
Fuck.
She didn't.
She had no idea.
Everything inside me twisted—fear, anger, protectiveness all tangled together.
Amelia would be blindsided.
She'd open her phone and see millions of strangers dissecting her life.
Her body.
Her relationship with me.
She'd panic.
Or worse… she'd think I was careless with her heart.
"Firstly not a single word of this to anyone, my staff must be included in this" I said
"Sir this might be good, you can come out with the relationship and we are in the 21st century, relationships are normal" my PR adviser went on
"Not me and Amelia, we were supposed to be low-key"
I ran my hands through my hair.
"I want to know who leaked our location and the name of the blog with our pictures, call the lawyer we might sue as well" I said hastily
"There's no need for that Noah" Sadie jumped in "let's unfold this one at at time, right now we have the stans account to focus on" she said rubbing my arm.
My eyes scanned through the room, my CFO, COO Sadie and Elena looking at me, hanging on my every word. "Can I be alone for now?" "Elena I want to know what you can come up with to resolve this mess as soon as possible"
She nodded"Of course sir, right away" and left
One by one my staffers left and I took my phone to call Amelia, I wanted to be the one to tell her about the rollercoaster we were about to enter. The last time I was in the blogs for this sort of thing was for my ex fiancé and it was messy, I couldn't afford that again.
I had a good thing going on with Amelia.
Ring, ring, ring
Pick baby pick.
The call went straight to voicemail, I was restless and I could stay still.
I didn't know how she would take this news, she had never been in the public eye before, they could rip her apart. Blogs can be devious, all I wanted was for the news to quit spreading.
And for Amelia to pick her damn calls.