Architect's Heart

1.Chapter 1 No Way

In the darkness, a man pinned Yvonne Yates down. She tried to scream, but no sound escaped her lips.

The next morning, Yvonne's eyelids throbbed as she forced them open. The unfamiliar hotel room was a mess, with clothes scattered everywhere. The bed was tangled and disheveled, a chaotic reminder that seemed to mock her.

Yvonne felt a pang in her chest. Last night hadn't been a dream—it had all been real. She'd been betrayed by her boyfriend, and she'd ended up with a stranger for her first intimate encounter.

Her heart ached, and she clenched the bedsheet tightly. But regret couldn't change anything; all she could do was force the tears back.

The shower cut off, and a tall man stepped out of the bathroom. He looked to be in his thirties, with the kind of quiet confidence that came with maturity. Over six-two, he had a lean, muscular build, and water droplets glistened on his abs.

But it was his eyes that really struck Yvonne—cold and piercing, like dark pools. She shivered, feeling as if she were staring into the eyes of a wild animal. It was unsettling.

Yvonne clutched the bedsheet tighter, trying to hide her nerves. She comforted herself inwardly, 'He might have an imposing presence, but I'm his client, the one in control here. Come on, don't be scared.'

"Name your price," he said, his voice flat.

'Name my price? Why? Isn't it usually the other way around?' Confused, Yvonne fumbled in her wallet and pulled out 150 dollars for him.

Xavier Harris frowned, studying her face. She looked like she was barely 20, with big, doll-like eyes and skin that seemed to glow.

He thought, 'She's trying to pay me, not asking for money? Wait. She takes me as some kind of hired gigolo? Well, the girl has quite the imagination.'

Since he didn't take the money, Yvonne assumed he wanted more. She didn't know the going rate, but with a face and body like his, he was probably worth more than 150 bucks.

"This is all I have with me," she said quickly. "But I've got another 250 in my account. Give me your number, and I'll transfer it to you."

Xavier's eyebrow shot up, and his expression turned even colder.

'Still not enough? I've offered everything I have. And he's still not satisfied?' Yvonne grumbled to herself.

"Look," she said, biting her lip and looking up, "you weren't exactly gentle. It hurt. 400 dollars is more than fair for what you did. I'm not made of money, you know."

She sounded brave, but inside, she was a mess. She dropped the money on the bed and wrapped the sheet around herself, reaching for her clothes. Nervous, she tripped and the sheet slipped from her grasp. She stood there, exposed and vulnerable.

Xavier's eyes darkened as he took in her body. She was young and innocent-looking, like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Hey!" Yvonne shouted and scrambled to grab the blanket, clutching it to herself. "Stop staring!"

"I've seen it all last night," he said, his voice as cold as ever.

"You jerk," she grumbled, cheeks flushed. "I just gave you money. What's with the attitude? Next time, I'm going straight to your boss."

"Next time?" He raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"No way, don't even think about it," she snapped, grabbing her clothes and heading for the bathroom. Every move hurt.

She winced, looking at her ruined skirt and thinking about how rough he'd been. Her eyes were stinging with tears. 'The gigolos in the movies are always so gentle. Why couldn't real life be like that? My first time was supposed to be special, not this painful and humiliating.'

Her story was the stuff of soap operas: she had walked in on her boyfriend of four years in bed with her best friend, Clara Wagner. Heartbroken, she had gone to a bar to drown her sorrows, but ended up with this stranger, leading to last night's disaster.

She'd let herself pay for someone else's mistakes. It was just plain foolish. She wiped her tears quickly. There was no time for crying. She needed to get out of here.

When she emerged from the bathroom, Xavier was fully dressed, looking as sharp and composed as ever in his suit. He was smoking, and the way he held the cigarette made him seem even more in control.

Yvonne's heart skipped a beat. He was exactly the type of guy she'd always found irresistible—confident, sharp, and attractive. This explained why she'd been so drawn to him last night.

"I paid you," she said, her voice steady. "We're even. And remember, we're just strangers from now on." Then the door closed with a quiet finality as she left.

Xavier's lips curled into a cold smile, his eyes penetrating. 'Look at her, so arrogant and naive. Strangers? No way.'

*****

Yvonne lingered outside the nearest pharmacy to the hotel, her heart pounding. It took her a good while to steel herself and step inside, pretending to browse the shelves.

"Need some help?" A pharmacist with a stern face and an air of authority approached.

"I-I-I need... birth control pills," Yvonne muttered, her voice barely audible and her cheeks burning.

The pharmacist handed them over without a second glance.

"Thanks," Yvonne mumbled, paying quickly and dashing out. She found a quiet corner and swallowed the pills without water. They tasted terrible—so bitter her face scrunched up.

After she left, the pharmacist slipped off his white coat to reveal a sharp suit underneath. He pulled out his phone. "Boss, she took the pills."

On the hotel's top floor, Xavier stared out the window, a cigarette dangling from his fingers. His eyes were unreadable. 'Hope you like the Vitamin B,' he thought.

2.Chapter 2 Her Boyfriend's Betrayal

After taking the pills, Yvonne boarded the bus back to school. She had a teaching assistant shift waiting for her in the afternoon. There was no room for heartache when she was living paycheck to paycheck.

As she approached the school gate, a sharp, familiar ache twisted in her chest. Just yesterday, right here, her boyfriend James Hall's mother had intercepted her.

Sitting in her fancy Mercedes, she had regarded Yvonne with a cold, dismissive look. "300 thousand to leave my son. Marriages in our world are about matching families. You'll never be right for ours.

"James is just messing around with you. When he's done, you'll be left with nothing. Take the money and leave now, while you still can."

Yvonne had begged for a chance, insisting James felt something real for her. But that same night, she caught him with Clara in their dorm room, on a bed. In a fit of fury, she threw a bucket of water over them. James was soaked and scrambling, looking totally pathetic.

Lost in her own thoughts, Yvonne was making her way to the research building when James suddenly rushed over. He grabbed her shoulders, his voice trembling. "Yvonne, just let me explain."

He was always so meticulous about his appearance; but now, he looked disheveled, his hair tousled and eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night.

"Let go of me," Yvonne snapped, feeling a wave of disgust. She knew those hands had been all over Clara. "James, if you don't let go, I'll make sure everyone at school knows about your little fling."

James reluctantly released her, but he wasn't about to let her walk away. "Yvonne, I was just out of line once. I'm sorry," he said, his voice softening.

"Out of line once?" she repeated, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You've been seeing Clara for months. And you called that 'once'?"

James's face turned a deep shade of red. "I made a mistake. I'm only human. But I love you, Yvonne."

"Save it, James," Yvonne said sharply. "You haven't evolved enough to control yourself. You're more animal than human. Go tell your mom. It's that you're not good enough for me." She shoved him hard, and he stumbled back, nearly collapsing to the ground.

"Yvonne, please don't hit James," Clara cried, rushing out and pushing Yvonne aside. She stood protectively in front of him, saying, "It's all my fault. I love him; I started this. If you want to blame someone, blame me. I'm sorry.

"But James is your man. Y-You wouldn't give him what he needed, so he... You can't blame him for that."

Yvonne almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. Clara was really something else—dramatic and shameless.

"Yeah, right," Yvonne scoffed. "So you, my 'loyal' best friend, just decided to swoop in and take my place? Should I send you a thank-you card and wish you luck marrying him? Not a chance.

"If James could cheat once, he'll keep doing it. I hope you're still sticking up for him when you see his next mistress."

A flicker of resentment crossed Clara's eyes, but she kept up the act, tears streaming down her face. "You're the one to talk? Look at the bites on your neck. Weren't you with someone else last night?"

James'd been with her for four years, never crossing that line when she wasn't ready. And now, staring at the marks on her neck, he shouted, his face pale, "How could you do this?"

"I'm single," Yvonne retorted. "Why can't I?"

"So you really are that kind of woman," James said. "And I thought I knew you." He stormed off, leaving Yvonne and Clara alone.

Clara wiped away her tears and sneered, "Last night's 'gigolo' was quite something, wasn't he?"

At that moment, Yvonne realized she'd been set up. She clenched her fists, fury coursing through her.

*****

In the CEO's office of Harris Group, Frank Cooper, Xavier's assistant, was filling him in. "Boss, you were right. The guy who spiked your drink last night was sent by your brother Edward. He was trying to ruin your reputation."

Xavier had known it all along. This was the showdown he'd been waiting for. He flicked his cigarette into the ashtray, the glowing tip turning to dust. "What about the girl from last night? Did you find out who she is?"

"Yeah, her name's Yvonne Yates. She's a 21-year-old college senior. Good grades, quiet, the whole package. She was at the bar because her boyfriend cheated on her. And... there's something else," Frank hesitated.

"Spit it out," Xavier said.

"Her boyfriend is James Hall."

"Keep an eye on her."

'My deadbeat nephew's girlfriend, huh? Interesting. Dad wants me shackled to the Phillips heiress? Hell no,' Xavier mused, the corner of his mouth hitching up. 'Yvonne, though—she's far more interesting.'

3.Chapter 3 We've Met Before

The night was thick with the hum of music and the low glow of lights at Scarlet Bar. Strippers were grinding against the poles, their moves both seductive and energetic.

Yvonne, dressed in a bunny costume, navigated the crowd with a tray of drinks. She had sworn off bars that morning, but here she was, back in the fray, lured by the promise of a quick $60 an hour.

The low-cut neckline of her outfit made her uncomfortable, and she tugged at it nervously. Suddenly, a hand slipped around her waist from behind. She spun around, startled, to see a sleazy guy leering at her. "Hey, beautiful, how about a drink with me?" he slurred.

"I'm just a waitress," Yvonne said quickly, slipping away.

Right then, the manager came over and handed her a bottle of blue liquor encrusted with diamonds. "Be careful with this. It's worth a fortune."

Shocked, Yvonne clutched the bottle protectively to her chest.

"Booth 2. Get it over there," the manager urged.

Yvonne glanced over. In the booth sat two sharply dressed men, both strikingly handsome. But the one on the right—cold, regal, almost imperious—sent a jolt through her. She recognized Xavier.

She felt a chill run down her spine. 'What's he doing here? And he's with another gigolo? Gigolos come to nightclubs for fun? That's weird.'

"Sir, please let someone else do this. I—" she began.

"Hurry up. Don't keep the guests waiting," the manager said, giving her a gentle push.

Yvonne took a deep breath and made her way over. The lights were low, and she was wearing a mask. She figured he probably wouldn't recognize her.

"Hey, I heard you were spotted at a bar with a woman last night," Zack Tate said, his blond hair catching the light as he leaned against the bar with a girl on his arm. "Your brother's really going all out to push you out of the family."

Xavier's lips twisted into a cold smile. "Mess with me? He'll regret it."

"Sir, here's your wine," Yvonne murmured, lowering herself to one knee to get a better angle for uncorking the bottle.

A familiar scent wafted up—fresh and faintly floral. Xavier glanced down at the girl in the bunny costume. Her figure seemed familiar.

The bottle slipped from Yvonne's grasp—she rarely did this, but Xavier caught it before it could crash to the floor. 'Thank God,' she thought, letting out a breath of relief. 'If that bottle breaks, I'll be ruined.'

She looked up to thank him, but his cold eyes met hers, and she quickly dropped her gaze. 'Please don't recognize me,' she prayed silently.

Xavier caught a glimpse of her eyes—big, amber, and startled. They looked so familiar that he wondered if he'd seen her before.

"Taking forever, aren't we?" Zack teased. "Are we supposed to wait until tomorrow?"

Yvonne gritted her teeth. "Almost got it," she muttered. With a final tug, the cork popped free. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

Her lips were soft and pink, and something about them tugged at Xavier's memory. The sweet taste of them from last night came flooding back. 'It's her—Yvonne. Small world,' he thought.

"Sweetie, if you're this nervous just uncorking a bottle, you'd be in tears if you had to serve my friend in bed," Zack laughed, his tone wicked.

Yvonne's cheeks burned. "Like I'd ever serve him," she muttered, her voice tinged with defiance.

Xavier's fingers curled around her chin, his gaze locking onto hers with an icy intensity. "We've met before," he said, his voice cold.

Yvonne's hand jerked, spilling the drink all over Xavier's lap. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry," she muttered, grabbing napkins to clean up the mess. 'Has he recognized me?' she wondered.

Seeing her flustered, Xavier hesitated. He didn't want to scare her—better to let her keep pretending.

After a few wipes, Yvonne's eyes widened. Something was off—he seemed turned on.

4.Chapter 4 Too Close

Yvonne might be innocent, but she wasn't stupid. She quickly realized what had happened, her face flushing with embarrassment. 'Just turned on like this? Right, that's what a gigolo does. Ew, my hand feels dirty now.'

"Enjoy your wine," Yvonne said, trying to stand up. But her legs were numb from kneeling for so long, and she lost her balance, ending up sitting on Xavier's lap.

Her face turned bright red as she tried to push herself up. Her hands landed on the wall on either side of Xavier's head.

Xavier was speechless and thought, 'So she just sat on my lap, and now she's pinning me against the wall like this?'

Yvonne was mortified, on the verge of tears. She didn't want this—her legs just gave out on her.

Their faces were inches apart, her eyes wide with panic as she nervously bit her lip. His intense eyes were sharp yet somehow captivating, making her heart race. 'Please, just let me vanish,' she shouted inwardly.

Her sweet scent drifted onto Xavier's face, tickling his senses. He'd always been proud of his self-control, always brushing off physical urges as trivial. But now he felt an inexplicable urge to kiss those lips.

'Why? Is it because she's my first girl?' he thought, staring at her red lips and leaning in.

But Yvonne pulled away just in time, her legs finally regaining feeling. Xavier's lips met thin air, and he chuckled softly.

"Think you can just walk away after getting Mr. Harris's pants wet?" Zack swung his leg onto the table, blocking Yvonne's path. "Either you lick it dry, or spend the night with Mr. Harris. Your choice."

Yvonne's face turned pale. "Sorry, but I'm just a waitress here, not some plaything," she said sarcastically, stepping over Zack's leg and walking past.

Xavier watched her storm off, a smile tugging at his lips. 'Feisty little thing,' he smiled inwardly and had the sudden urge to grab her fluffy, white bunny tail.

*****

Yvonne was desperate to get out of the bar, but she'd promised she'd stay until 2 a.m. She had to see this shift through.

She approached booth 10 with three bottles of Armand de Brignac. The table was packed with a bunch of rowdy, wealthy playboys in their early twenties.

As she set the bottles down, a red-haired guy grabbed her arm and tried to pull her into their party, yanking off her blindfold.

"Yvonne?" The word hung in the air, a shocked whisper.

Yvonne's heart skipped a beat. There, among the chaos, was her brother, Eric Yates. 'He's just a student struggling with money. What's he doing here with these rich guys?' she thought in shock.

"Eric, don't tell me that's your sister who you've mentioned. Didn't you say your family was loaded?" the red-haired guy sneered. "So why's your sister working here?"

Eric's face turned bright red. "You told Dad you had a part-time job," he snapped at Yvonne. "Is this the 'job?' Don't you have any shame?"

His words felt like a slap to the face. Yvonne took a deep breath. "I'm just a waitress," she said quietly. "It's honest work."

"Yeah, right," Eric scoffed. "I've been to places like this before. Money talks, and that's all that matters."

Yvonne raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? How much can you afford? Oh, wait—you're broke. You're always stealing my money."

"Oh wow, so you don't have any money after all. No wonder you always slip off to the bathroom when the bill comes. What a fraud," the red-haired guy sneered.

Eric's face turned pale. "She's lying. Don't believe her."

"Let your sister hang out with me for a night," the red-haired guy said, "and I won't tell anybody about your little lies. Deal?"

"Sure, do whatever you want," Eric replied without hesitation.

"Eric!" Yvonne was furious. "How could you?"

"You came here on your own," he retorted. "You deserve whatever happens."

"Your brother's such a jerk. Let me show you a good time," the red-haired guy said, lunging at Yvonne.

Yvonne panicked. She kicked his shin as hard as she could. He cursed, wincing in pain. Then he raised his hand, ready to slap her.

5.Chapter 5 Still Running Away?

Yvonne curled up, trembling, but the hand that had swung at her was caught short. The red-haired guy howled in pain, tears streaming down his face. "Let go! You're killing me. It hurts!"

Yvonne looked up, catching a glimpse of Xavier's strong, cold jawline, and recognized him. He stood behind her, exuding an air of quiet strength, as if he'd protect her no matter what. He'd come to her rescue—and that stunned her.

Xavier shook off the hand like it was nothing.

"Wanna help her? Who the hell do you think you are?" the red-haired guy spat, furious.

"Someone you shouldn't be messing with." Xavier's voice was a low, dangerous growl.

"Boss, he's Mr. Harris. Let's just leave here," someone warned urgently.

"M-Mr. Harris? I'm so sorry; I didn't know..." The red-haired guy backed away, his bravado gone.

"Eric—" Yvonne began.

"Shut up and leave me alone," Eric snapped, shoving Yvonne's hand away. He followed the red-haired guy out, leaving her behind.

Yvonne swallowed hard, forcing back the tears. "Thanks," she muttered to Xavier, and walked away.

"First time seeing you play knight in shining armor," Zack drawled. "Too bad the damsel didn't swoon."

'Xavier isn't one for chivalry. If he doesn't care, he wouldn't lift a finger no matter what she's going through. So, he's actually interested in her? That's surprising. I thought he wouldn't get involved with women,' Zack wondered.

Zack knew that even if Xavier was into her, it was just for kicks. There was no way the Harris heir would ever get serious with a barmaid. Xavier was way too smart for that. Plus, he already had a fiancée.

*****

At three in the morning, Yvonne finally stumbled out of the noisy bar. Her head was pounding, her ears were ringing, and her heart felt heavier than ever.

Yvonne was just Eric's half-sister. Eric had been spoiled rotten since he was a kid. He never really tried to better himself, always got into trouble, and constantly snapped at her. Their relationship was a mess.

But seeing him act like that tonight still twisted something inside Yvonne. No matter how bad things were between them, they were still family. At least, she still saw him as her little brother.

The sudden blare of a car horn cut through her thoughts. A sleek black Rolls-Royce pulled up beside her, its back window rolling down to reveal Xavier's handsome face.

"Get in the car," Xavier said. He didn't know why he'd been waiting here, worried she might get hassled. Seeing her walk out looking so down, he couldn't help but call out to her.

'It's him again, that gigolo.' Yvonne was in a foul mood and didn't want anything to do with him.

He insisted, "Either you get in the car willingly, or I'll drag you in."

Yvonne quickened her pace, and when she heard the car door creak open behind her, she broke into a jog.

A hand reached out from behind and grabbed the dangling toy on her backpack.

"Let go of me," Yvonne struggled and shouted.

"Still trying to run away? I've got my way to make you stay." Xavier pinned her against the wall, holding her hands above her head.

Women usually threw themselves at him, but here he was, chasing after one. He had broken his own rules for her time and again.

Yvonne squirmed, trying to break free. "Let me go, or I'll call the police."

"Go ahead and try."

Yvonne's eyes blazed with anger. "You think you're some big shot just because you act like one? You're just a gigolo—what makes you so arrogant?"

She still thought of him as just a gigolo. He was curious about how she'd react when she found out who he really was. It was going to be interesting. "Get in the car. I need to talk to you."

"I don't wanna talk. We're even. There's nothing left to say."

"It's not up to you." Xavier didn't waste any more words; he just pushed her into the car.

6.Chapter 6 His Scheme

"Let me go. Help—my shoe!" One of Yvonne's sneakers came off as the car started moving.

The car's interior was a masterpiece of luxury, with a starry night ceiling that cast a soft, romantic glow. Yvonne stared up at it, her irritation momentarily forgotten.

Her wide-eyed wonder was almost endearing, especially since Xavier hadn't been around someone so unpretentious in years.

"Like it? I could take it out for you and let you take it home," he said, his tone light.

Yvonne snapped back to reality, her irritation returning. "Who cares? Your business is booming, huh? Driving such a luxury car and sipping $300 thousand wine in a VIP booth. Are the charges steep?"

"Manageable," he replied. As a CEO, he was doing pretty well himself.

She continued, "Among the people I know, I'm the poorest. You won't get any money out of me, no matter what you try."

"Why not pay off your debts with something else? For example, you?" Xavier's tone was teasing.

Yvonne's face turned red, and she gritted her teeth. "I'm not going to degrade myself like you do."

"Even that line of work has its standards," he retorted.

She was left speechless.

"Don't let me catch you in this bar or any other again," Xavier warned.

"Who gave you the right to interfere with me?"

To a man of power, that was a funny question, so he just said, "If I see you in any bar again, I'll inform your school. I'm sure they wouldn't give a scholarship to a student who works at a bar."

"How do you know? Did you investigate me?" Yvonne felt a surge of panic.

"You don't need to know how I found out. Just know that I'm serious," Xavier said, his eyes narrowing.

"What exactly are you plotting?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

'Don't tell me he's also a pimp,' Yvonne thought, her heart racing, and she regretted her decision deeply.

The Rolls-Royce pulled up at the school gate. "Boss, we're here," the driver said.

Yvonne reached for the car door, but Xavier grabbed her and pressed her back into the seat. She looked at him nervously, unable to speak.

"Remember what I said," he said, giving her a warning look. He released her and slipped a card into her hand. "This is my private number. Call me if you need."

Yvonne bolted out of the car and vanished into the darkness without looking back.

*****

When Yvonne got back to the dorm, the lights were on, and Clara was waiting for her, arms crossed. "Nice of you to finally show up. Got a thing for chasing after gigolos now?"

Yvonne ignored her, stripping off her makeup and getting ready for bed.

"Deaf or something? I'm talking to you!" Clara grabbed her arm.

Yvonne shook her off. "Since you hooked up with James, you're dead to me. Why talk to a ghost?" Yvonne sneered.

"I made the first move with James, but don't act like it's my fault. You were too stuck-up to give him a chance."

"James would've cheated no matter what. He's a cheater through and through. You can cling to him all you want, but he'll still find someone else."

"James isn't like that. You just couldn't keep him interested. I'm way better at this than you."

"Thanks for that. At least I didn't spend time making out with a jerk like him."

"Isn't sleeping with a gigolo even worse?"

Yvonne's slap rang out, leaving Clara's cheek red. Clara shouted, "You—"

Yvonne's eyes turned cold. "My family runs a boxing gym. If you want a fight, bring it on."

Clara knew she couldn't take Yvonne in a fight, so she started smashing things instead, her face twisted in rage. "You witch! I'm gonna marry James and it'll drive you crazy."

*****

The next morning, Clara glanced at Yvonne, still fast asleep, and called out loudly, "Honey, I'm heading downstairs now. Bye!" Then she slammed the door shut with a loud bang.

"Is she insane?" Yvonne frowned, her head pounding as she dragged herself over to the laptop. She'd barely slept three hours and felt like she was walking on clouds.

Her desk was covered in grad school books, every page crammed with notes. She'd only planned to go to grad school because of James. But now that he was out of the picture, maybe it was time to find a stable job instead.

There was a business card on the desk with the name "Harris" and a phone number. Yvonne balled it up and tossed it into the trash, then opened a job search website and started scrolling through the listings.

"Harris Group is hiring an architectural assistant?" she muttered, clicking on the link.

The Harris Group was the biggest multinational conglomerate in the Ardynian. Their businesses were everywhere, and they were always near the top of the global billionaire lists.

It was also the dream place for architects, with an acceptance rate so low it was almost laughable—one in ten thousand. Yvonne wondered if she could really get in.

"Why not? If I can't find love, maybe I can find some success in my career. And who knows, maybe I'll get lucky," Yvonne said to herself, sending her resume to Harris Group and a few other smaller firms.

To her surprise, Harris Group was the quickest to respond. They called that afternoon and set up an interview for nine the next morning.