The Billionaire She Threw AwayChapter TwoJensen stood at the curb where the cab lane met the main road, phone still warm in his hand from the call, and waited for his sister.He hadn't seen Geena in almost two years. Phone calls only, and even those were rare, because the rule his grandfather had set didn't just cover money and status. It covered contact too. Geena had broken that part of the rule more times than either of them would admit to Alfred, sneaking calls late at night when she thought no one was tracking her line. Jensen never told her to stop. He needed those calls more than he ever let on.Geena wasn't his sister by blood. Alfred had adopted her when she was six, after some business arrangement with her parents had gone sideways in a way nobody ever fully explained to either of them. It didn't matter. From the day she arrived at the Pike estate, she'd attached herself to Jensen like he was the only solid thing in a house full of cold marble and colder relatives, and he'

The Billionaire She Threw AwayChapter FourPendleton University sat on the edge of downtown, old brick buildings mixed in with newer glass ones, the kind of campus that photographed well for the brochure and felt a lot less impressive once you'd lived in the dorms for four years. Jensen had two months left before graduation. Most of his classmates had spent the spring talking about job offers and grad school and, more than anything lately, about the graduation dinner everyone kept bringing up in the group chat.He wasn't part of most of those conversations. He never really had been.Four years at Pendleton, and Jensen had learned exactly where he stood in the social order without anyone needing to spell it out for him. There were students whose parents wired them allowances bigger than his monthly rent, who complained about midterms over brunch at restaurants Jensen could never afford to walk into, let alone order from. There were students who never thought twice about him at all, th

{CHAPTER SIX}The Billionaire She Threw AwayChapter SixJensen stood in the hallway for another five seconds, listening to the noise from the premier room behind him, and then he made a decision he hadn't fully planned.He followed her.He wasn't sure why, exactly. Charlotte Woodart was not his problem. He barely knew her. In four years of sitting in the same lecture halls and sharing the same campus, they'd exchanged maybe thirty words total, none of them particularly memorable. She was the campus belle, the kind of girl who existed at the center of a room without trying, the kind that people like Matthew spent entire semesters constructing elaborate plans around. Jensen had never given her much thought beyond the occasional awareness that she was there and that she seemed, unlike most of the people in their class, to actually pay attention during lectures.But something about the way she'd moved toward that elevator sat wrong with him. Not the walk of someone who'd gotten a bad cal