STUCK WITH MR. BILLIONAIRE FOR CHRISTMAS novel Chapter 1

CINNAMON:

Three years.

Three years of late nights, brutal deadlines, and campaigns that saved the company's ass more times than I could count. Today, all of it would finally mean something.

I smoothed my hands over the navy blazer I'd splurged on last month. Tailored, professional. It was perfect for claiming what I'd earned. My reflection in the apartment window looked ready. Confident. A woman who'd already won.

The promotion was mine.

I grabbed my bag and bolted out the door, heels clicking against the pavement as I speed-walked toward the junction. The staff bus always left at 7:45 sharp, and I'd rather chew glass than miss it today of all days.

The bus rumbled into view just as I rounded the corner, brake lights glowing red.

"Wait!" I broke into a jog, waving my arm like a lunatic.

The door hissed open. Thank God.

I reached for the handle, ready to haul myself up and collided with a wall of muscle and expensive cologne.

A man stood at the door, one hand already gripping the rail, his body angled to board. Dark hair, sharp jawline, face that belonged on a magazine cover as a supermodel.

We both froze.

Then his eyes dropped to my hand on the door. His tightened.

Oh, hell no.

I yanked harder, wedging my shoulder into the narrow gap. He pulled back, crowding closer, his suit jacket brushing my arm.

"Excuse me," I said through gritted teeth.

He didn't move. Just stared at me like I was gum on his thousand-dollar shoe.

Fine. Two could play this game.

I twisted my body, slipped past him with a grunt, and hauled myself onto the bus. Victory tasted sweet until I realized there was exactly one seat left.

I lunged for it.

The bus jerked forward as I dropped into the worn vinyl seat, exhaling in relief. Behind me, footsteps thudded up the stairs.

The stranger appeared in the aisle, scanning the packed bus with an expression that could've frozen hell. His gaze landed on me.

I felt it like a brand.

He moved closer, stopping directly in front of my seat. Didn't say a word. Just stood there, looking down at me with those cold, unreadable eyes that somehow commanded, "get up."

I blinked up at him, all innocence. "Don't look at me. I'm not giving up this seat for you."

His jaw clenched. A muscle ticked near his temple.

For a second, I thought he might actually say something. Instead, he turned and grabbed the overhead rail, positioning himself among the other standing passengers as the bus filled in behind him.

I slipped my headphones on, cranking the volume until soft piano music drowned out the world. My body relaxed into the seat, tension melting from my shoulders.

Today was going to be perfect. I could feel it.

Except my eyes kept drifting back to him.

He stood three feet away, one hand wrapped around the rail, the other hanging loose at his side. The fluorescent bus lights caught the edge of his profile. Strong nose, full mouth set in a hard line. His charcoal wool suit was custom tailored and it evidently cost more than anyone earned in my company.

And that watch. Jesus. Must have a price tag I didn't want to know.

Then I noticed the ring on his pinky finger. Thick gold, understated but unmistakable.

Who the hell wears a pinky ring on a staff bus?

I nudged Eric, the guy sitting beside me. He looked up from his tablet, thick-framed glasses sliding down his nose.

"Who's that?" I whispered, nodding toward the stranger.

Eric squinted, then shrugged. "No idea."

Weird.

I let it go, deciding he was probably one of those city types who dressed like they owned the world but couldn't afford the cab fare. Fake it till you make it, right? Also maybe a new employee who was trying hard to be noticed.

I closed my eyes, letting the music wash over me. My mind drifted to the conference room, to the moment my name would be called, to the applause and congratulations and the raise that would finally let me breathe.

By the time the bus lurched to a stop outside the office, I was practically glowing.

I waited until everyone shuffled off, then stood, smoothing my skirt and squaring my shoulders. The building rose in front of me, glass and steel catching the morning sun.

All my sacrifices had all led here.

The entrance was decked out in Christmas decorations now, garland wrapped around the columns, a massive wreath hung above the revolving doors. Twinkling lights framed the windows, casting festive glow.

I hummed under my breath, some half-remembered carol, and practically skipped toward the entrance.

"Morning, James!" I called to the janitor mopping the lobby floor.

He looked up, startled, then grinned. "Someone's in a good mood."

"Best day of my life," I sang back, waving at the window cleaners on their scaffolding, at the decorators stringing lights across the reception desk.

I floated into the building, riding that high all the way to my office.

The moment I sat down, Risa knocked and pushed the door open without waiting for an answer. She held a small gift box wrapped in silver paper, a ridiculous bow perched on top.

"For you," she said, setting it on my desk.

I tore into it immediately. Inside was a delicate gold chain bracelet with a tiny charm shaped like a four-leaf clover.

"Risa..."

"For luck. Not that you need it." She pulled a stick of incense from her bag, lit it, and began waving it around me in exaggerated circles. "But just in case. Gotta ward off the bad vibes."

I laughed, even though the smell made my nose itch. "I don't believe in this stuff."

"Doesn't matter. I do." She grinned, extinguishing the stick. "You've earned this, Cin. Go claim what's yours."

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