The Billornaire's Secret

Unexpected Encounter

**Olivia Thompson walked into her psychology class**, her eyes quickly scanning the room for an empty seat. She spotted one near the back and slipped toward it, hoping to avoid attention. It was her first day, and she preferred to blend in rather than stand out. As she settled into the chair, she took a breath and tried to focus on the professor already halfway through the lecture.

But her attention wavered.

Across from her, a guy sat rigidly, his gaze locked on the professor with an intensity that seemed out of place in the casual environment of a college lecture hall. **His dark hair** fell slightly over his forehead, and the sharp angles of his face looked almost too perfect, like they were crafted from stone. But it wasn’t just his appearance that caught her attention. There was something deeper—an aura about him. He radiated this quiet, unapproachable energy, as if he was carrying something heavier than anyone around him could imagine.

**Their eyes met for the briefest moment.**

Olivia’s breath hitched. **A flicker of recognition sparked, but it was gone as quickly as it came**—he turned back to the front without acknowledging her, his focus returning to the lecture. She blinked, forcing herself to look away, but it wasn’t easy. There was something magnetic about him that made it hard to concentrate on anything else.

When the class finally ended, he was the first to rise, his movements swift and precise as he grabbed his bag and strode out the door without sparing another glance. Olivia let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She gathered her things slowly, letting the rest of the class filter out around her.

Outside, she quickly spotted **Mia and Ava**, her two best friends, waiting for her. **Mia’s bubbly personality** was already in full swing, chattering about the play rehearsal they were headed to. Olivia smiled at her friend’s endless energy. **Ava, as usual, played it cool**, walking with her arms crossed, though Olivia knew she was just as excited to support their friends in the theatre group.

**"Liv! Can you grab us coffee before you head over?"** Mia asked, her tone hopeful as they all started walking away from the psychology building.

**"Sure, no problem."** Olivia agreed, waving them off as they headed toward the theatre.

The coffee shop line was longer than expected, and as she waited, her phone buzzed. **A text from Ava: "Hurry up, Liv! We need our caffeine fix!"** Olivia chuckled, slipping the phone back into her pocket. She hurried up to the counter when it was her turn, juggling multiple coffee orders.

As she turned around, hands full of steaming cups, she walked straight into something—no, someone. The jolt caused one of the cups to tip over, spilling hot coffee across the front of a dark shirt.

**"Oh no!"** Olivia gasped, looking up in horror. **"I'm so sorry!"**

The guy barely flinched, but when he looked up, Olivia’s heart dropped. **It was him**—the mysterious guy from her psychology class. His piercing blue eyes narrowed as they met hers, an icy calm settling over his features as he surveyed the damage.

**"It's fine,"** he said in a voice so low and measured it caught her off guard. He stepped back slightly, pulling at the soaked fabric of his shirt, clearly irritated but doing his best to mask it.

**Olivia felt her face flush.** She hadn’t even noticed how tall he was until now, and being this close to him, she could see every detail—the tension in his jaw, the sharpness of his gaze. He wasn’t just good-looking; he was... unnerving.

**"I’m really sorry,"** she repeated, her voice smaller now, her confidence shrinking under his stare.

He waved her off with a subtle shrug, clearly not wanting to make a big deal out of it. But just as he turned to leave, he paused, his eyes scanning her face again, as if something about her was worth remembering.

**"Be more careful next time,"** he muttered, his tone soft but carrying a weight to it.

And with that, he walked out, leaving Olivia standing there with a mix of embarrassment and intrigue, clutching the remaining coffee cups in her hands. She wasn’t sure what had just happened—whether she should be mortified or intrigued—but one thing was certain: this wouldn’t be the last time their paths crossed.