The Billionaire on the Cover

The sizzle of raw chicken hitting the scorching iron grill sounded like a warning hiss in the cramped, grease-stained kitchen of the busy Las Vegas restaurant. Camilla pressed the heavy metal spatula down on the searing meat, wincing as a stray droplet of hot oil popped and stung her bare forearm. She wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her wrist, leaving a faint streak of soot across her pale skin. The relentless heat of the commercial kitchen pressed down on her chest, making every breath feel thick and heavy. She shifted her weight, heavily favoring her left leg to ease the grinding ache in her lower back.

Six months had passed since she walked out of that hospital clinic with a fierce resolve to protect her unborn child. Now, she was heavily pregnant. Her highly prominent baby bump pushed against the fabric of her faded uniform apron, constantly bumping against the stainless steel prep counters as she maneuvered through the narrow cooking aisle.

Finding clean, respectable work in this unforgiving city had proven to be a relentless, daily struggle. Camilla was a proud college graduate. She had spent years hunched over textbooks in dimly lit libraries, earning her degree, believing that hard work and a sharp mind would secure her a decent future. But the harsh reality of the job market forced her to settle for this grueling, menial job. She spent her days flipping endless batches of chicken over open flames, her feet swelling inside her cheap, slip-resistant shoes, her back screaming in protest by the end of every brutal shift.

It was a stark, undeniable divide between the wealthy elite and the struggling poor. The rich sat in their air-conditioned glass penthouses, making millions with a single signature, while the lower class drowned in the sweltering heat below, scraping by on minimum wage just to survive another week.

Camilla had tried to bridge that gap. She had marched into towering corporate skyscrapers, clutching her carefully prepared resume, desperate for a good office position. But she quickly learned the unspoken rules of the city. Any good corporate positions often came attached with lecherous, inappropriate demands from male employers. They would lock their office doors, let their eyes wander over her body, and suggest private, late-night evaluations in exchange for a lucrative contract.

Camilla fiercely maintained her dignity. Every time a slimy HR director hinted at such an arrangement, she walked straight out the door. She frequently told herself, gritting her teeth as she scrubbed the greasy grill, that she would rather sleep with literal pigs in mud than trade her physical body for employment. She was no saint, but she refused to let these shameless men treat her like a commodity. She had her pride and her self-respect to protect.

As a massive flare of orange heat shot up from the grill, Camilla flipped the last row of chicken breasts, her mind drifting to the man who had shattered her trust in the first place. Cody.

The painful sting of her ex-boyfriend’s betrayal still harbored deep in her chest. Cody had been her second boyfriend, but the very first man she had ever trusted enough to take her virginity. He had coaxed her into his bed under the false guise of forever, whispering sweet, empty promises about their shared future together. She had surrendered her heart to him, believing they were building a real life.

And then, he abandoned her. He tossed her aside with the most pathetic excuse she had ever heard, claiming he only loved her as a friend. If he only loved her as a friend, why did he push for intimacy? Why did he take her innocence, only to discard her the moment he was satisfied? The profound heartbreak of his betrayal had left her reeling, spiraling into a reckless state of despair that ultimately culminated in her uncharacteristic actions on Valentine’s night.

She rubbed her aching lower back, staring blankly at the dancing flames. She thought about the random, grey-eyed stranger from that crowded bar. The truth was, she did not regret the unexpected, intense physical pleasure of their sexual encounter. The heavy friction of his body against hers, his large hands gripping her skin, the raw, dominant rhythm that had left her breathless in the dark hotel room—it had been a mind-altering experience. The physical encounter had been incredible.

Her only regret was the aftermath. The cowardly man had vanished into thin air before the morning sun even peeked through the curtains. He slipped out of the hotel room without leaving so much as a basic name on the nightstand, leaving her with nothing but the lingering scent of his strong cologne. Now, here she was. Working a dead-end job, her feet throbbing, cooking chicken to pay for prenatal vitamins.

Hours later, the brutal shift finally came to an end. Camilla dragged her exhausted, aching body up the narrow staircase leading to the small apartment she shared with Piper. Her swollen feet felt like heavy blocks of lead. She unlocked the front door, kicked off her shoes, and bypassed the living room entirely.

She shuffled into her bedroom and slumped heavily onto her side of the shared mattress. The bed springs creaked in protest beneath her weight. She stared up at the ceiling, letting out a long, weary exhale, feeling the baby shift against her ribs.

The bedroom door pushed open. Piper walked casually into the room, balancing a colorful tray loaded with assorted fresh fruits. Bright red strawberries, green grapes, and neat slices of cantaloupe were arranged perfectly on the platter.

"Hey girl," Piper chirped, her voice bouncing with its usual boundless energy. "How was work today?"

Camilla let out a loud, drawn-out groan, running a hand over her face. "Stressful. Incredibly stressful." She peeked through her fingers and spotted the tray. She quickly forced a warm, appreciative smile, pushing herself up onto her elbows. "Is that for me?"

Piper sauntered closer, handing the tray over to Camilla. "Yes. It's not like I actually enjoy eating all this healthy stuff anyway."

Camilla took the tray, her smile widening into genuine gratitude. "Aw, Piper. That is so sweet of you. This is exactly what I needed right now."

Piper didn't even wait for a thank you. She abandoned the fruit tray entirely, practically launching herself into the air and jumping directly onto the mattress next to Camilla. The bed bounced. Piper clutched a brand-new, glossy business magazine in her hands, her eyes sparkling with unfiltered excitement.

Grinning from ear to ear, Piper rapidly flipped through the crisp, expensive pages. She stopped at a double-page spread, letting out a dramatic, dreamy sigh as she pointed her manicured finger at a picture of a man in a tailored suit.

"Wow. Just look at him," Piper swooned, openly drooling over the page. "This guy is so cute. Look at his eyes, Cami. They are so dreamy."

Camilla popped a juicy strawberry into her mouth, chewing slowly as she leaned over. The man was undoubtedly handsome, labeled as a billionaire named Tony. Camilla chuckled warmly, shaking her head in sheer amusement at her best friend’s endless, comical obsession with the city's wealthiest, untouchable men.

"Are you still going crazy over those billionaires?" Camilla asked, wiping a drop of juice from her chin. "I thought you've read that same magazine a million times already."

Piper fiercely defended her reading habit, sitting up straighter and clutching the magazine to her chest. "First of all, I don't buy these to read them. I only go through the pictures because I desperately need to carefully memorize all their faces. What if we miraculously cross paths on the street someday? I need to be able to recognize them instantly! And second of all, I haven't read this a million times. I just bought this brand-new issue today, so please give me a break."

Camilla laughed out loud, the sound ringing through the small bedroom, momentarily chasing away the deep exhaustion in her bones. Piper was relentless. She shamelessly crushed on the elite, manifesting a fantasy life where a billionaire would sweep her off her feet. Camilla had warned her a dozen times that men of that caliber had nothing to do with girls from their side of town, but Piper refused to give up the dream.

"Oh! So it's a new one?" Camilla teased, reaching her hand out over the blankets. "Well, let me see it then."

Piper narrowed her eyes suspiciously, pulling the magazine away. "Oh? So now you want to crush on them too?"

"Sorry to disappoint you, but no," Camilla replied, laughing as she waved her hand. "I just want to read a few text lines to pass the time since it's new. Hand it over."

Piper reluctantly handed the magazine over, tapping a playful warning on the glossy paper. "Fine. But make sure you do not dare crush on my absolute favorite. Tony is mine."

Camilla chuckled, resting the heavy magazine against her prominent baby bump. She flipped past the picture of Tony, skipping over the fashion advertisements. She landed on a dense corporate profile detailing the top ten business icons of the year and their recent stock market progress.

She scanned the first paragraph. Finding the dense corporate profiles of the business icons incredibly dull and boring, her heavy eyelids began to droop. None of them were related to the entertainment industry, and it certainly wasn't entertaining enough to keep her awake.

She sighed, closing the magazine. She moved her arm, holding it out to hand the glossy publication right back to Piper.

However, as the heavy magazine shifted in her grip, the glossy cover page flipped over, falling directly into her line of sight.

A strikingly familiar face suddenly caught her eye.

Camilla froze completely. Her entire body went rigid, locking into place as if she had been turned to solid stone. Her breathing stopped entirely, trapping the air dead in her lungs. Absolute, paralyzing shock violently washed over her entire body, starting from the crown of her head and shooting straight down to her toes. The noise of the city traffic outside their window faded into a deafening silence.

Her eyes bugged out of her head, stretching so wide they burned. She dropped the magazine onto the bedsheets, forcefully covering her mouth with both of her hands to trap the hysterical sound rising in her throat.

"Oh my God!" Camilla screamed in sheer, unfiltered panic, her voice muffled behind her palms. "Oh my God, Piper look!"

Piper blinked, completely missing the point. She leaned over, glancing at the cover, her face lighting up with a proud smile. "I know, right! They are just too cute! I told you!"

Camilla violently shook her head, her hair whipping wildly around her face. She dropped her hands from her mouth, her chest heaving as she sucked in a desperate gasp of air. "Noo! I mean—yes, they are cute, but that’s not what I am talking about! Look at the cover page!"

She aggressively shoved the heavy magazine right back into Piper's hands, jabbing her index finger at the glossy paper.

Piper stared blankly at the cover. Her forehead wrinkled in confusion as she studied the handsome young man dominating the front page. He wore a sharp, tailored suit, sitting with an aura of cold, untouchable authority. Beneath his image, bold, black text read: *Vanguard Dominic Thorne, businessman of the year.*

Piper shrugged her shoulders casually. "What about it? I just see Las Vegas’ most eligible bachelor and the CEO of the year. Honestly, he isn't even cuter than my Tony."

Camilla felt her blood pressure skyrocket. She let out a frustrated, ear-piercing scream at the top of her lungs. "I absolutely do not care about your Tony!"

She grabbed Piper’s wrist, pulling the magazine closer, and pointed a violently trembling finger directly at the glossy picture of Dominic Thorne. Her hand shook so hard she could barely keep her finger straight. She stared into the printed image of those cold, piercing eyes.

"Piper, look at his face! Look at him!" Camilla screamed, the sheer reality of the situation shattering her sanity into a million pieces. "The man on this cover—he is the exact same man from Valentine's night! He is the one-night stand guy!"

Piper gasped. The sound was so loud and sudden that she actually choked on her own breath, coughing rapidly as she slammed her hand against her chest. She snatched the magazine away, staring wildly at the picture. She looked at the image, then whipped her head back to stare at Camilla’s pale face, then looked down at the picture again.

Pure, unfiltered disbelief radiated from Piper's wide eyes.

"What?" Piper screamed back, her voice cracking in pitch. She dropped the magazine onto her lap, pointing frantically at Camilla's massive stomach. "You mean... YOUR BABY'S DADDY IS MR CEO?"

Camilla clutched the edge of the mattress, her knuckles turning white. She stared down at the magazine cover, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. There was no mistaking that strong jawline. There was no mistaking the sharp, aristocratic slope of his nose. But most importantly, there was no mistaking those piercing, unforgettable eyes that had watched her in the dark.

"Yes, sis," Camilla screamed right back, her voice shaking with absolute, undeniable certainty. "It is him. I recognize his striking grey eyes perfectly."