Chapter 4 First Night In A Billionaire's World
Darcy's POV
I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of Adrian’s gaze on me, and decide that honesty is safer than pretending. “I… I don’t have a glamorous background,” I confess, my voice almost swallowed by the room. “I wasn’t trained at fancy schools. I haven’t worked for millionaires before. Mostly, I’ve just… survived.”
The words feel heavy as they leave my mouth, and I brace myself for his reaction. A judgmental eyebrow, a dismissive smirk, the polite-but-firm “Thank you, but no thank you.”
But Adrian doesn’t do any of that. He just… listens. Quietly. His dark eyes studies me, unreadable, as if weighing every syllable, every pause, every small tremor in my voice.
I keep speaking, telling him in fragments about the jobs I’d done, the children I’d cared for, the nights I’d worked three shifts just to make rent, the times I’d put someone else’s needs above my own. Hazel shifts against me, small fingers brushing my neck, as if she understands the gravity of the confession too.
And through it all, Adrian says nothing. Not a single word.
I stop talking, finally, bracing for rejection, he leans back slightly, the faintest corner of his lips lifting not a full smile, but something that hints at warmth behind the steel.
“Darcy,” he says, slowly, deliberately, “Hazel doesn’t care about your résumé. She just wants you.”
The words hit me harder than I expected. My chest tightens, warmth blooming from somewhere deep inside. Something dangerous and exciting stirs, something that whispers I am no longer invisible, that my worth isn’t measured by certificates or titles. Hazel coos against me, tiny body relaxing, and I know she already trusts me. I haven’t earned her affection; she has chosen me.
I blink, trying to compose myself. “I… I don’t know what to say,” I murmur.
Adrian’s gaze softens. “Say yes,” he says simply. “Stay. Temporarily, officially. With Hazel.”
I hesitate, my mind racing. This is insane. I was a nobody from nowhere, plucked from my life and being offered the temporary care of a billionaire’s daughter. And yet… my gut screams yes. Something about Hazel, about him, made me want to say yes.
Before I can say a word, he pulls out his phone. “A car will be sent to your apartment. Go home. Pack a few things. Get settled.”
“Your… car?” I ask, still stunned.
“Yes,” he says with a faint smile, like it was obvious. “Go. Don’t worry about anything.”
The car arrives within ten minutes. I collapse into the leather seat, soaked through, exhausted, and exhilarated. I call my roommate the second I sit down.
“Darcy! Are you serious?!” she shrieks, her voice high and thrilled. “You’re living in a penthouse with… Hazel? THE Hazel Ashford?”
“I—yes?” I say, trying to sound casual, but my heart was racing like a runaway train.
“Darcy, this is amazing!” she squeals. “This is lottery-level amazing! Don’t screw this up!”
I laugh softly, half in disbelief, half from nervousness. “I don’t even know how I got here,” I admit.
She doesn’t care. She is already planning outfits, strategies, and worst-case scenarios. I hang up, smiling within myself.
But even as I pack my few belongings, the clothes I can fit into a small suitcase, my toiletries, and a couple of books, I notice something outside the window.
Flashes.
I freeze. The kind of flashes that didn’t come from harmless cameras. Paparazzi. Waiting. Like vultures circling something precious. My stomach sinks.
It isn’t just excitement or fear of moving into a billionaire’s world anymore. This was a warning, a prelude to something I am yet understand. I shove it to the back of my mind. I have to focus. Pack. Go. Be ready.
Night falls as I step out of the car in front of the Ashford building. The lobby is quiet, a soft hum from the lights overhead. My suitcase clicks softly on the marble floors as I follow the concierge to the elevator.
The ride up is silent except for the low hum of the elevator. My nerves are a tight coil in my stomach. What would Hazel think of me tonight? What would Adrian think?
When I reach the penthouse floor, I fumble with the key card. My hands are shaking slightly from excitement, nerves, and perhaps a little fear. I push the door open and freeze.
Adrian is there.
And not just “there” in a casual way. Shirtless. Towel over one shoulder. Hair still damp, glistening slightly under the ambient lights. He looks… impossibly, infuriatingly good. Like the universe had sculpted him with deliberate cruelty, knowing full well he’d be the last person to ever look normal to anyone.
Hazel stirs in her crib behind him, small hands moving, already awake. She coos softly, and the way her tiny eyes lit up at him was a stark contrast to the almost predatory calm he exudes.
I swallow, words dying in my throat. And to think my heart had raced in the car, in the lobby, in the elevator. None of it compares to the sudden, crashing reality of seeing him like this. Vulnerable, yet commanding, fresh from a shower yet untouchably perfect.
He glances at me, towel slipping slightly, eyes catching mine. There's a hint of amusement, perhaps pride, maybe something darker, something unspoken.
“Welcome back,” he says, voice low and casual, but I can hear the edge, the subtle undercurrent of curiosity and something else… something that makes my stomach flip.
I step inside, suitcase in hand, barely able to breathe. Hazel coos again, reaching for me instinctively. I lean down to scoop her up, and she wraps her tiny arms around my neck like I had never left.
Adrian watches, silent, expression unreadable but his gaze burns into me, sharp and deliberate.
The penthouse suddenly feels smaller, intimate, alive. And yet, outside, I know the flashes waited, watching, hungry for the story we haven’t even started to write.
I set Hazel on the couch, glancing back at him. “So… this is home now?”
He doesn’t answer immediately. He simply folds his arms, towel dangling, chest bare, eyes fixed on me. “For now,” he says.
And in that single word, I realize nothing about this life will ever be “just for now.”