The Billionaire's Brat Wants Me

After lunch, Val had packed up her flask, wiped her fingers with a tissue like she'd just concluded a royal banquet, and announced she was heading out.

"I'll be at the café down the street," she said, already slipping her phone into her bag. Then, after a small pause that was way too deliberate, she added, "You know… in case anyone around here suddenly forgets you're taken."

I gave her a look. She smiled sweetly — that kind of smile that said she was joking but absolutely meant every word.

That was Val for you. Cryptic, funny, and just subtle enough to make her point without needing to swing a sword.

I didn't even try to argue. She blew me a kiss before stepping out, leaving the faint scent of her perfume behind — and the memory of her smug grin burned into my mind.

The office was quiet when Tasha came back. Most people were still out grabbing a late lunch or gossiping near the vending machines. It was just me, my computer screen, and the soft clicking of the air conditioner when she walked in.

Her heels hit the floor in steady, measured steps like she'd practiced keeping her emotions buried somewhere under the sound.

I looked up when she stopped halfway to her desk, her steps faltering just enough to betray the emotion she was trying so hard to hide. Before I could say anything, she turned to me and said sharply,

"Your girlfriend is very rude, you know."

I almost laughed, almost.

But I caught myself.

Instead, I leaned back in my chair, brows lifting slightly. "Why do you say that?"

She frowned, clearly not expecting calmness. "It's… she…"

Her words stumbled over each other, irritation and restraint fighting for dominance. "You know what I mean."

I kept my expression flat, a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of my mouth. "I really don't, Tasha. You'll have to enlighten me."

Her eyes narrowed and there it was, that look. The one people give you when they realize you're playing dumb but can't call you out without sounding emotional.

She folded her arms. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"I'm working," I said simply, pointing to my screen.

That made her glare harder. And for a brief second, I wondered if maybe I was pushing it. But what else could I do? There was no polite way to navigate this without feeding her false hope.

She took a slow breath, then said, quieter now, "Do you want me as an enemy, Kai?"

I froze. Not because I hadn't seen that card coming — I had. I'd been waiting for it, actually. There was always that moment. When pride, rejection, and emotion twisted into one messy threat.

I looked at her calmly. Didn't say a word. Didn't flinch.

Her eyes wavered just a little. "I… I didn't mean it like that."

She sighed, this time softer. "I hate this."

Her voice cracked slightly, not enough to sound weak, just enough to show it hurt.

I didn't move. Didn't reach for her or say something comforting. Because sometimes kindness makes things worse.

She stood there for another heartbeat, then turned and walked back to her desk.

The sound of her chair sliding back into place filled the silence that followed.

I exhaled quietly. A small, guilty part of me felt bad — she hadn't made it easy, but she also hadn't been cruel about it. She could've used her position against me, made things complicated but she didn't.

That earned some respect.

But still — the much, much bigger part of me? Was trying not to smile at the thought of Val, sitting at that café like some undercover agent, pretending to sip coffee while keeping an eye out for my "team leader."

I could practically hear her voice in my head:

"Don't mind me, just quality-assurance monitoring."

Yeah.

That was Val.

And somehow, knowing she was out there, waiting just to drive me home… made the tension in my chest ease a little.

Because in a room where silence felt heavy and unspoken things lingered, it was her face, her smile and her laughter, echoing faintly in my memory, that kept me steady.

---

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of numbers, emails, and the rhythmic tapping of keys. Time seemed to move faster somehow—maybe because she was waiting for me. I could almost hear her voice echoing in my head, the teasing lilt from earlier when she said she'd be at a café nearby.

By five-thirty, the office had started to thin out. Derrick was the first to go, swinging his jacket over his shoulder.

"Big date tonight," he grinned, "real hottie. Wish me luck, man."

"Luck," I muttered without looking up.

He laughed, clapping my shoulder before heading out. The rest of the team followed one after another, papers shuffled, chairs rolled back, goodbyes murmured. Before long, it was just the faint hum of the AC and the clicking of my mouse.

And her.

Tasha.

I know what you're thinking—why am I always left alone with Tasha? Plot convenience? No, no, it's not that. We just happen to be the two people working most closely on the Bilmirage account, and if you've ever handled that kind of client, you'd understand—it's the kind of account that eats hours for dinner.

Anyway…

I was reviewing a few numbers on my screen when I heard her voice, quiet but clear.

"Uhm… Kai?"

I looked up. She was standing near my desk, holding a folder close to her chest with both hands. Her expression was softer than usual, no edge, no bite, just… careful.

"Here," she said, extending the folder toward me.

I reached for it, but she didn't let go. Her fingers stayed firm on the edge of the file, knuckles faintly white.

Her voice trembled slightly. "Uhm… wo—would you like to… maybe get coffee sometime?"

Before I could even process that, she added quickly, almost tripping over the words,

"As friends. I'll... start from somewhere."

Her eyes searched mine, hopeful, uncertain, like a kid asking for permission to stay up a little later than bedtime.

I sighed quietly. "I can't."

Her grip loosened, but her eyes didn't waver. "Just one time, mhm?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper. "I won't ask again."

I was about to answer when another voice, familiar, smooth, and devastatingly calm, joined the conversation.

> "Of course you would. I know I would."

Tasha froze.

I didn't even have to turn around to know.

Val.

She stepped forward, her heels clicking lightly against the tile, her presence filling the room like a soft gust that carried trouble in perfume form.

Tasha blinked, trying to compose herself. "It's… just coffee over work," she said quickly, her tone defensive but small.

Val smiled. Not wide. Not cruel. Just that kind of knowing curve that said I see right through you.

"Of course it is," she said smoothly.

The air between them thickened.

Tasha's lips twitched like she wanted to say something else but thought better of it. Val tilted her head, still smiling, and for a moment it felt like the temperature in the room had dropped even more than it already was.

I stood up then, instinctively stepping between them.

"Val…" I said, a warning buried in my tone.

She pouted. A harmless, practiced pout that somehow made the whole situation feel even more surreal.

"What?" she said innocently, already reaching for the briefcase on my desk.

"Really?" I murmured, shaking my head.

Without answering, she lifted my briefcase with one hand and turned to me, her other arm looping naturally around mine.

"Let's go, husband," she said lightly, her tone dripping with amusement. Then she turned to Tasha and added,

> "Goodnight, Ms. Team Leader."

Tasha didn't respond. She just stood there, folder still in hand, watching as we walked out.

The office door closed softly behind us, and for a few seconds, all I could hear was the echo of Val's heels down the corridor.

When we reached the SUV, she climbed into the driver's seat, set the briefcase beside her, and adjusted the rearview mirror. She didn't start the engine right away. Instead, she turned to me, eyebrow raised.

> "Were you gonna say yes to the coffee date?"

I choked on air. "Of course not. And she didn't say date."

Her smirk deepened, the kind that said she wasn't buying it for a second. "Uh-huh."

I stared at her, amused despite myself. "You're unbelievable."

"And you love that about me." she said with a grin.

I didn't answer, just shook my head, laughing quietly.

She smiled—soft this time, not smug—and finally started the engine.

As the car eased out of the parking lot, I caught her reflection in the window: focused, calm, eyes forward.

And I realized how much I'd missed just… this.

The world felt lighter when she was near, even when she was stirring chaos without trying.

Because with Val, even jealousy came wrapped in warmth, and every confrontation somehow ended with her hand in mine.

---

To be continued...