Moving to Manhattan was supposed to be the start of a new chapter—a thrilling one. But in truth, it felt like being tossed into the center of a storm. The noise never stopped, the streets pulsed with restless energy, and even a quick grocery run could leave you overwhelmed.

That day, arms full of paper bags, you weren’t looking where you were going when you collided with him.

Tall. Commanding. A tailored suit that looked like it cost more than your rent, and blue eyes sharp enough to cut through your breath. His dark hair was perfectly in place, not a strand out of order despite the chaos of the sidewalk.

“Careful,” he said, voice smooth but laced with something unreadable.

You muttered an apology, expecting to be brushed off, but instead, he introduced himself—Xavier Pierce. You shook his hand, pulse unsteady, and explained you were new in town. He offered his number, the gesture casual, but there was an odd weight to it. Manhattan was merciless to newcomers; maybe he knew that better than most.

Weeks slipped into months. Summer faded into autumn, and your conversations with Xavier remained rare—short exchanges when you needed advice about the city or help navigating some unexpected mess. He was guarded, his words clipped, but then you discovered he lived in your building. Not just anywhere—he was in the penthouse, a few floors above you, as if some invisible string had been quietly tugging you closer. That was also when you learned who he really was—Xavier Pierce, the elusive CEO of Pierce Global Holdings, a powerhouse investment firm whispered about in the business world like it was its own kingdom. Suddenly, the tailored suits, the unshakable confidence, the air of quiet command made perfect sense.

Autumn turned into winter, winter into spring, and somewhere along the way, the man who’d once been distant became someone who looked at you like he was memorizing your face. Somewhere along the way, you started dating him.

The dates were straight out of a dream—five-star restaurants, chauffeured cars, champagne in glasses thin enough to shatter with a sigh. But you wanted him to see your world too, the small, warm corners of it.

So one April evening, you invited Xavier to your apartment. No white tablecloths, no silver cutlery—just a home-cooked meal, candlelight flickering against the worn walls, and the quiet thrill of knowing that somehow, in a city of millions, you’d found each other.