Page 17 of Her Naughty Billionaire

I smile, her words bringing a sense of warmth and clarity. "Thanks, Ava. Always my voice of reason."

"Always," she affirms, "Now, take that leap of faith, okay?"

A deep breath, a nod, even though she can't see me, "Okay."

The moment of reflection is shattered by the sudden burst of the office door swinging open. A young boy from the music program, whose name I remember as Jamie, stands at the threshold. He's panting, his face flushed from running.

"Miss Carter!" he exclaims, his voice pitchy with excitement. "You have to come! Right now!"

I rise from my desk, startled. "Jamie? What happened? Is everything okay?"

He nods quickly, his mop of curly hair bouncing with the motion. "It's not bad, but you need to see it. In the music room. Hurry!" The gleam in his eyes is unmistakable, but it does little to temper my worry.

Quickly ending the call with Ava, I rush out of the office, Jamie's small hand gripping mine, pulling me along with an urgency I can't quite comprehend. The corridors blur as we dash toward the music room, my heart thudding.

The rapid pace of my heart slows as I enter the room, ready to confront whatever disaster awaits. Instead, I find Victor sitting at the piano, his fingers resting lightly on the keys, his posture a mix of uncertainty and determination. The kids are arranged around him, their eyes sparkling with mischief and anticipation.

One of the older boys, Timothy, with glasses perched on his nose, speaks up, "Miss Carter, we taught Mr. Thorn! He wanted it to be a surprise for you."

Victor chuckles softly, nodding in agreement. "Yes, and these young maestros," he gestures to the kids around him, "have been very patient instructors. Although I must admit, I'm no virtuoso."

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "So, what did they teach you?"

“A song that we thought was fitting given my passion for astronomy,” Victor answers.

Then, with a deep breath, he starts to play the familiar notes of 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star'. It's not flawless, and there are a few hesitant pauses, but the effort and sincerity shine through every note.

As he continues, I'm drawn to the instrument, remembering countless hours I spent here during my own childhood.

"May I?" I ask, gesturing to the bench beside him.

Victor pauses, then shifts slightly, making room. "Please."

I sit, our shoulders almost touching, and listen for a moment as he continues the simple melody. Then, softly, I begin to weave in a harmony. The notes intertwine, his steady and strong, mine dancing around them, enhancing and elevating. The children watch in silent awe as the tune transforms from a simple lullaby into something richer, layered with depth and emotion.

As our impromptu duet ends, I lean back, looking at the keys, then to Victor. In this shared moment, there's an understanding, an unspoken acknowledgment of how two contrasting elements can come together to create something beautiful.

Victor's blue eyes meet mine, and for a moment, the room, the children, everything else fades away. There's just us and the realization of what we could be—together.

With a subtle gesture, I motion for him to follow me. He nods in understanding, pushing himself off the piano bench. The children, their eyes sharp and observant, exchange cheeky, knowing glances. Their innocent voices whisper and giggle amongst themselves, sensing the underlying tension and romance between us. Their playful teases about Victor going to "the principal's office" bring a reluctant smile to my face.

Leading the way through the corridor, the muffled sounds of our footsteps against the polished floor break the quiet. As we reach my office door, I pause, taking a deep breath before entering. And with a soft click, the door closes behind us, sealing us off from the world outside.

“So,” I start, “what was that about?”

Victor runs a hand through his tousled hair, looking a bit out of place amid the blend of Carter legacy and my world. "I wanted to find a way... a small gesture to start making amends."

I lean against the edge of my desk, crossing my arms, "By learning 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star'?"

He chuckles, a hint of sheepishness in his grin. "It seemed fitting. And it was the song Timothy insisted was within my skill range."

I can't help but smile. "Well, it was a start."

There's a pause, both of us searching for words. The distance from last night's events feels both vast and minuscule in this enclosed space.

Victor's stance is solid, the same unyielding posture I've come to recognize, but there's a vulnerability in his gaze that's new to me. "Sophia," he begins, voice firm yet coated with an emotion I hadn't heard before, "Last night... I messed up. Badly."

I nod slowly, the memory fresh, the sting still present. "That's one way to put it."

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