HEART OVER NET WORTH

HEART OVER NET WORTH

mhizeniola2

266.9k Words / Completed
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Introduction

She built an empire from code. He can’t afford a subway ride. What happens when love crashes through firewalls and fortune? Aspen Carter is a 24-year-old billionaire tech mogul, brilliant, ruthless, untouchable. But behind the sleek penthouses and global power plays, she’s never known love that wasn’t calculated or conditional. Enter Leo Moreno, a broke Brooklyn artist with paint on his jeans and dreams bigger than his rent. He doesn’t care about Aspen’s wealth. He doesn’t even know her name. And when their worlds collide in a chance café encounter, something electric sparks. Something real. But love between two people from opposite universes isn’t easy. Aspen wants to lift Leo up. Leo refuses to be a project. And when secrets, sabotage, and emotional firewalls threaten to destroy what they’ve built, they’ll have to decide: Is love a luxury neither can afford? Or the one thing worth losing everything for?
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mhizeniola2

Chapter 1

Aspen Carter never waited in lines.

Not at five-star restaurants, not at exclusive clubs, and certainly not for coffee. She had assistants for that. Assistants who knew her usual iced oat milk latte, light ice, extra caramel, and exactly how to get it into her hands within minutes of her craving it.

But today, for reasons she couldn’t quite explain, she wanted to get it herself.

Maybe it was the exhaustion of back-to-back investor meetings. Maybe it was the suffocating perfection of her life pristine penthouses, luxury cars, and people who only spoke to her when they needed something. Or maybe it was just the need to do something normal for once.

So when her driver pulled up in front of a small, hole-in-the-wall coffee shop in Brooklyn a place called Grounded with a handwritten sign that looked like it hadn’t been changed in years Aspen felt something she hadn’t in a long time.

Curiosity.

She stepped inside, the tiny bell above the door chiming as she entered. The scent of freshly brewed espresso and warm cinnamon filled the air, a stark contrast to the sterile, overpriced cafés she was used to in Manhattan. The shop was cozy, all rustic wood and mismatched chairs, with local artwork covering the walls. It felt real.

And so did the man behind the counter.

Leo Moreno barely looked up when she walked in.

Which was unusual. He was used to customers doing a double take, especially when someone like her walked through the door. She didn’t belong here her crisp white blazer and designer heels practically screamed Upper East Side royalty, and the way she scanned the café like she was analyzing a stock portfolio told him she wasn’t here by accident.

Still, he wasn’t impressed.

“Cash only,” he said before she even reached the counter.

Aspen blinked, caught off guard. “Excuse me?”

Leo finally glanced up, his dark brown eyes locking onto hers. She was beautiful annoyingly beautiful but there was something unreadable in her expression. Like she wasn’t used to being told no.

“I said cash only.” He nodded toward the small, handwritten sign taped to the counter. “Our card reader’s been busted for weeks.”

Aspen exhaled, reaching into her purse and pulling out a sleek black card. “I don’t carry cash.”

Leo shrugged. “Then I don’t carry coffee.”

She stared at him. No one spoke to her like this. Not board members, not competitors, and certainly not baristas.

“Seriously?” she asked, arching a perfectly sculpted brow.

Leo leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. “You’re welcome to find another place that takes your billionaire credit card.”

Aspen narrowed her eyes. “How do you know I’m?”

Leo gave her a pointed once-over. “Call it a wild guess.”

She should have been irritated. She was irritated. But she was also intrigued.

“Fine.” She dug into her bag, fingers brushing against something metallic. Pulling it out, she smirked. “Do you take gold?”

Leo blinked at the heavy, rose-gold money clip she held between two fingers. A few hundred dollar bills were folded inside, but it was the clip itself that caught his attention. Engraved, minimalistic, and expensive as hell.

He sighed, taking one of the bills. “I hate rich people.”

Aspen laughed an actual, genuine laugh. “That makes two of us

Leo made her drink begrudgingly, his fingers moving expertly over the espresso machine. Aspen watched, leaning against the counter, feeling oddly entertained by how unimpressed he was with her.

“You always this charming?” she asked.

“You always this difficult?”

She smiled, taking the cup from him. It was warm in her hands, a stark contrast to the cold, pre-ordered lattes she was used to. She took a sip and paused, surprised by how good it was.

“Not bad,” she admitted.

Leo rolled his eyes as he wiped down the counter. “Glad it meets your high standards, princess.”

Aspen raised an eyebrow. “Did you just call me princess?”

“Would you prefer an heiress?”

She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “You know, most people at least pretend to be nice to me.”

“That’s probably because they want something from you.”

The words hit harder than she expected. Aspen had spent years surrounded by people who smiled to her face while silently calculating what they could gain from her. Investors, partners, employees everyone wanted something. But this guy? He didn’t seem to care about who she was or what she was worth.

It was refreshing.

Aspen took another sip of her coffee and tilted her head. “What’s your name?”

Leo hesitated for a beat, then answered, “Leo.”

“No last name?”

He smirked. “You don’t need it.”

“Fine, Leo. I’m Aspen.”

“I know,” he said casually, rinsing out a cup.

Aspen blinked. “Wait you do?”

Leo shrugged. “You own Vyre. Your face is in every business magazine. People either love you or hate you, depending on how much they care about billionaires running the world.”

“And which side do you fall on?”

Leo met her gaze. “I’m still deciding.”

A slow smile tugged at the corner of her lips. She should have been annoyed. Instead, she was intrigued.

“Well, let me know when you make up your mind,” she said, turning to leave.

Leo called after her. “Bring cash next time, princess.”

Aspen laughed softly to herself as she stepped outside.

She would be coming back.

Aspen didn’t return to Grounded the next day.

Or the day after that.

She told herself it was ridiculous she had meetings, deals, and a company to run. But for some reason, the coffee from her usual high-end café didn’t taste as good anymore.

So, three days later, she found herself back in Brooklyn, standing in front of Grounded like an idiot.

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting. Maybe for Leo to look surprised that she’d come back. Maybe for him to be a little friendlier.

Instead, he barely looked up when she approached the counter. “Cash or no coffee.”

Aspen smirked and slid a crisp twenty-dollar bill across the counter. “You wound me, barista.”

Leo’s lips twitched slightly as he took the bill. “Progress.”

She leaned against the counter as he started making her drink. “So, Leo, how does a guy like you end up running a cash-only coffee shop in Brooklyn?”

“I don’t run it,” he said, focusing on the espresso machine. “I just work here.”

Aspen frowned. “You don’t own this place?”

“Nope.” He glanced at her. “Disappointed?”

She shrugged. “A little. I had this whole narrative in my head struggling artist opens indie coffee shop to make ends meet, refuses to sell out, fights off evil corporate overlords.”

Leo chuckled. “Nice try. I just work here to pay rent. My real thing is art.”

Aspen raised an eyebrow. “You’re an artist?”

He nodded. “Paint, mostly. Some mixed media.”

“And you’re still broke?”

Leo shot her a look. “Not all of us make billions off an app that profits from influencers selling teeth-whitening kits.”

Aspen grinned. “Ouch. You don’t like Vyre, do you?”

“It’s nothing personal,” Leo said, setting her drink in front of her. “I just think social media’s killing real art.”

She studied him, intrigued. “You’re a little intense for a barista.”

“And you’re a little nosy for a billionaire.”

Aspen took her coffee and smiled. “See you tomorrow, barista.”

Leo watched her go, shaking his head.

He had a feeling she wasn’t kidding.

Aspen came back the next day.

And the day after that.

And the day after that.

It became a routine, something she looked forward to in a way she couldn’t quite explain.

At first, it was the coffee. Then it was the banter. Then it was him.

Leo, with his sarcastic comments and unimpressed attitude. Leo, who didn’t care about her net worth or her press coverage. Leo, who made her laugh in a way she hadn’t in years.

She learned things about him in bits and pieces. He grew up in Queens. His mom worked as a nurse. He dropped out of art school because he couldn’t afford it. He painted at night, in a tiny apartment that doubled as his studio.

And, most importantly he didn’t want her money.

Aspen wasn’t used to that.

People in her world always wanted something funding, investments, and connections. But Leo? He just made her coffee, called her princess, and sent her on her way.

Which only made her want to come back more.

What she didn’t realize was that she was about to become just as much a part of his routine as he had become a part of hers.

Neither of them saw it coming.

Neither of them knew how complicated it would get.

And neither of them expected that a simple coffee shop in Brooklyn would be the start of something that would change both their lives forever.

Aspen wasn’t sure when it happened when Grounded became more than just a coffee shop and when Leo’s smirk became something she looked forward to more than her morning meetings.

But by the end of the second week, she found herself clearing space in her schedule just to stop by.

It wasn’t logical. It wasn’t her. Aspen Carter didn’t do routines that weren’t meticulously planned. She didn’t waste time on things that didn’t serve a strategic purpose.

And yet, here she was, standing at the counter of Grounded again, handing Leo another crisp twenty.

“Starting to think you just like giving me your money,” he mused, sliding the bill into the register.

Aspen sipped her coffee, feigning indifference. “I just like your coffee.”

Leo leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “You know, if you liked it that much, you’d order something different once in a while.”

Aspen smirked. “I’m a woman who knows what she wants.”

“And apparently, what you want is an iced caramel macchiato with light ice and extra caramel every single day.”

She shrugged. “Consistency is key.”

Leo shook his head, wiping his hands on a towel. “You’re something else, princess.”

Aspen tilted her head. “So, have you decided yet?”

Leo raised an eyebrow. “Decided what?”

She grinned. “Whether you like me or hate me.”

Leo studied her for a second, then smirked. “Still deciding.”

Aspen didn’t know why that made her annoyingly happy.

Aspen was about to fire back another witty response when the door to Grounded swung open, and a woman stormed in, heading straight for Leo.

“Leo, where the hell have you been?” she demanded.

Aspen blinked. The girl was young, maybe early twenties, with the same dark brown eyes as Leo. There was a sharpness to her tone, a frustration that didn’t sound like an ex-girlfriend it sounded personal.

Leo sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Jordan, not now.”

Jordan?

Aspen took a step back, watching the exchange unfold.

“No, now,” Jordan snapped. “Mom’s hospital bill is overdue. Again. And before you say anything, I already know you don’t have it.”

Aspen felt a pang of discomfort. This wasn’t her place this wasn’t her world.

Leo’s jaw tightened. “I told you, I’m working on it.”

Jordan let out a humorless laugh. “Right. Because barista wages are gonna cover medical debt.”

Aspen had never felt more like an outsider in her life.

She should leave. This wasn’t her problem.

And yet, the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“I can help.”

Leo’s head snapped toward her so fast she almost took a step back. His eyes darkened, a storm brewing beneath the surface.

Jordan, on the other hand, looked at Aspen like she had just offered to land a spaceship on the moon. “Wait, who are you

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