The Billionaire Who Stole My Heart

Ophelia was the epitome of grace in her sky-high stilettos, mingling among the guests with a smile that belied the searing pain in her heels. She had been enduring the discomfort all evening, but a moment of weakness had betrayed her to Jonathan.

Jonathan had always been headstrong.

Their families, observing the bond between them, turned a blind eye to the little indiscretions of young love.

Seeking solace in the sanctuary of a quiet lounge, Jonathan located a first-aid kit. He knelt before her, reaching out to tend to Ophelia's injured foot.

Ophelia flinched, instinctively pulling back. "Jonathan..."

There was no need for him to go to such lengths.

Jonathan, usually easygoing, could be imperious when he chose to be.

Ignoring her protests, he gently took her foot, removed her shoe, and with meticulous care, dabbed at the wound with a cotton swab soaked in antiseptic. He then applied a band-aid and handed her a pair of comfortable ballet flats. "Don't wear those shoes anymore. Put these on."

Ophelia frowned. "I can't possibly..."

pairing a cocktail dress

please," Jonathan urged, his grip firm yet tender

She found herself yielding without

of honey water. "You've had quite a bit to drink. This will

you so harsh with

known for his kindness, rarely speaking

a surprise

fancy?" Jonathan downed a glass of the sweet liquid, his voice laced with disbelief.

Ophelia was puzzled.

he questioning

when I was hurt. If it was just me chasing after someone who didn't love me,

if she wasn't in love with me, then she was after

Ophelia suffer for someone who

you had feelings for," Ophelia confirmed. "You did a lot for her, even had a falling-out with the Metzgers over

He took her hands with solemnity. "Ophelia, I'm sorry for the pain I've caused you. From now on, I won't let

a ripple of emotion. After a pause, she replied, taking his hand, "Jonathan, if you ever make