The Billionaire's Distraction

The scent of aged whiskey and burning citrus filled the air as Lucia Gregory wiped down the polished oak counter. The Friday night crowd at Ember Lounge was in full swing—businessmen in tailored suits clinking glasses, socialites flashing diamond-studded wrists, and trust-fund kids wasting obscene amounts of money on overpriced cocktails. Lucia had learned to tune it all out. To her, this was just another shift. Another night of making drinks, dodging unwanted advances, and watching the privileged parade around like the world owed them something.

The dim lighting of the bar cast soft shadows across her face as she moved with practiced ease, her hands deftly mixing a Manhattan for a regular who barely acknowledged her. It didn't matter. Tips spoke louder than pleasantries.

"Busy tonight?" asked Mia, her best friend and fellow bartender, balancing a tray of martinis.

Lucia smirked, grabbing a fresh glass. "Same as always. People throwing money around like it grows on trees."

Mia scoffed. "For them, it does." She nodded toward a group of men seated in the VIP section, their presence commanding attention. "Speaking of money... guess who just walked in?"

Lucia barely glanced up as she poured. "Let me guess—another tech mogul with a superiority complex?"

"Close. That's Adrian Sinclair."

This time, Lucia looked. Across the room, a man sat with a confidence that made it clear he was used to being in control. Adrian Sinclair. Even if she hadn't recognized him, the name alone carried weight. He was the heir to Sinclair Enterprises, a billion-dollar conglomerate that owned everything from luxury hotels to global media companies. His father's empire had shaped industries, his mother graced magazine covers, and Adrian himself was the kind of man whose face belonged in a GQ spread.

Lucia had heard about him, of course. The media loved to paint him as a golden boy—charming, brilliant, and utterly untouchable. But behind the headlines, she saw what they didn't. A man who had never worked a real job in his life. A man who had never struggled to make rent or worried about tuition fees.

She had no reason to care.

But Adrian Sinclair was looking straight at her.

Their eyes met—just for a second. His gaze was steady, unreadable, yet something about it sent a strange ripple through her.

Then he smirked.

Lucia rolled her eyes and turned back to her work. She knew his type. Rich, entitled, and accustomed to getting what he wanted.

Unfortunately for him, she wasn't for sale.

Lucia moved through the bar, refilling drinks and keeping her focus on anything but the weight of Adrian Sinclair's gaze. The man hadn't stopped watching her. She could feel it—an irritating, lingering presence that was as unwelcome as it was strangely compelling.

Mia nudged her as she passed. "He's still looking."

"I don't care."

Mia grinned. "He doesn't look like he's used to being ignored."

Lucia sighed. She'd dealt with his type before—men who mistook a woman's indifference for a challenge. If Adrian thought he could impress her with a few charming words and a fat wallet, he was in for a disappointment.

Unfortunately, Adrian Sinclair didn't seem like the kind of man who gave up easily.

"Excuse me," a deep, smooth voice cut through the noise.

Lucia turned, and there he was. Up close, he was even more annoyingly attractive—tall, sharp-jawed, and impossibly confident. The kind of man who knew the world bent to his will.

"What can I get you?" she asked, keeping her tone strictly professional.

He smiled, amused by her lack of reaction. "I'll have an Old Fashioned. And your name."

She arched a brow, unimpressed. "One Old Fashioned coming up."

Mia coughed to hide a laugh as Lucia turned away without another word. She could feel his gaze on her as she mixed the drink, but she refused to acknowledge it. When she slid the glass across the bar, Adrian took it without breaking eye contact.

"No name?" he asked.

Lucia folded her arms. "I don't give my name to customers."

His smirk deepened. "And what if I'm not just a customer?"

She let out a short laugh. "You're in my bar, ordering my drink. That makes you a customer."

Adrian leaned slightly closer, his voice lowering just enough to make it personal. "You don't seem easily impressed."

"Because I'm not."

His blue eyes studied her, as if trying to solve a puzzle he hadn't expected to find. Most women he encountered flirted, giggled, or at the very least, acknowledged his presence with some level of admiration. But Lucia was different. She wasn't just uninterested—she was actively unimpressed.

And for some reason, that made him want to know more.

"I like a challenge," he mused, more to himself than to her.

Lucia rolled her eyes. "Of course you do."

He chuckled, taking a slow sip of his drink. "I'll see you around, bartender."

She didn't bother responding. Let him think whatever he wanted. He'd lose interest soon enough.

At least, that's what she thought.

What she didn't know was that Adrian Sinclair wasn't a man who walked away from something—or someone—that intrigued him.

And Lucia Gregory? She had just become his newest fascination.