The smell of burnt coffee was the least of Lydia Blake's problems that morning.
The café was packed, her boss was yelling orders, and her feet felt like they were carrying the weight of Lagos itself.
"Order twenty-three!" she called out, forcing a smile as she served another impatient customer.
Her shift was almost over when she noticed him.
A man in a tailored black suit stood near the entrance, one hand in his pocket, phone pressed to his ear. He looked out of place — too polished, too composed, too... expensive for this part of town.
Lydia tried not to stare, but when he turned toward her, their eyes met for a split second. Cold grey eyes — sharp, unreadable. She quickly looked away, pretending to wipe the counter.
Then chaos happened.
Someone pushed the door open too hard, and Lydia, carrying a tray of steaming coffee, stumbled. The cup tilted — and in a flash, the hot liquid splashed across the front of his immaculate suit.
"Oh my God!" she gasped, frozen.
The man looked down at himself, then at her. His expression didn't change, but his voice came out quiet — dangerously calm.
"Do you have any idea who I am?"
Lydia blinked, trying to keep her voice steady.
"No. Should I?"
For the first time that morning, something flickered in his eyes — amusement, maybe. "You should."
"Well," she said, grabbing a napkin, "whoever you are, your ego just got coffee on it."
He didn't take the napkin. Instead, he stared at her — long enough to make her heart race.
Then he said, "Jaden Cole," and walked away before she could even apologize again.
She stood there, stunned. Jaden Cole — that Jaden Cole? The billionaire investor everyone talked about on social media?
Her boss was shouting at her again, but Lydia barely heard him. She was still staring at the door, where the most intimidating man she'd ever met had just walked out — wearing her coffee like a badge of war.
Sh
e sighed. "Perfect. Just perfect."