Ivan Blackwood had everything—wealth, power, and a reputation that made men envy him and women chase him. He wasn't just a billionaire; he was the billionaire, the man whose name was synonymous with success, ruthlessness, and control. Deals bent to his will. Rivals feared him.
But none of it mattered.
Because the one thing he truly wanted was something he could never have.
Ava Sinclair. His best friend. The only person in his life who wasn't impressed by his money or his power.
Ava, with her quick-witted sarcasm, her unguarded laughter, and those damn hazel eyes that always saw straight through him. She was chaos wrapped in warmth, a woman who lived by her own rules, never bowing to the expectations of high society.
And she had no idea that Ivan had been in love with her for years.
Their friendship had been built on late-night talks, inside jokes, and a trust that neither of them ever dared to break. Through breakups, career changes, and his meteoric rise to billionaire status, Ava had been his one constant.
She also had one rule—one Ivan despised.
She didn't date rich men.
A vow she made back in college, laughing over cheap beer and greasy pizza.
Back when Ivan was just a broke law student, not the powerful CEO of Blackwood Enterprises.
---
Five Years Ago – College Days
"I'm serious," Ava declared, waving a slice of pizza in the air as she leaned back against his couch. "Rich guys are the worst. They think money makes up for personality."
Ivan smirked, tossing a peanut at her. "You're generalizing."
"Am I?" She arched a brow. "Every rich guy I've met was either a self-absorbed playboy or a workaholic who treated relationships like business deals."
"Well, lucky for me, I'm not rich."
"Exactly," she said, grinning. "That's why we work. No expectations. No weird power imbalance. Just us."
Just us.
The words had been harmless then. But now, sitting in his glass-walled office, Ivan realized how much he had clung to them.
---
Present Day – A Late-Night Call
Ivan was halfway through reviewing a contract when his phone buzzed. Ava.
A small, involuntary smile tugged at his lips as he answered. "Ava, shouldn't you be asleep?"
"Shouldn't you be not working?" she shot back, her voice light and teasing.
"Touche."
"I need a favor."
He leaned back in his chair, already knowing he'd say yes before she even asked. "What is it?"
"I have this work event, and my stunningly unreliable date just bailed."
His grip on the phone tightened. "You need a replacement?"
"Well, yeah. But no tux, no grand entrance. Just us hanging out."
There it was again. Us. The word that felt like both a promise and a reminder of the boundary between them.
"You know I don't do casual," he said, keeping his tone neutral.
"Oh, please. You're literally my best friend. It's not a date, Ivan."
That was the problem.
Because for him, it always was.
"Fine," he said, exhaling. "I'll go."
"Perfect! Pick me up at seven. And don't be all CEO-like, okay? I want Ivan, not Blackwood the billionaire."
She had no idea.
She never wanted the billionaire.
Just him.
And someday, that wouldn't be enough.