My Poor Boyfriend Was Actually a Billionaire

Cecilia's POV

I clutched my folder tightly, craning my neck to look up at the towering skyscraper before me. Meridian Tower, one of Manhattan's financial district landmarks.

"God, am I really going in there?" I muttered under my breath, glancing at the wrinkled contract in my hands.

As the most junior employee in the tech department, running errands like delivering contracts naturally fell to me. But I hadn't expected a place like THIS—marble floors that could mirror your reflection, crystal chandeliers worth more than my entire apartment.

"Good afternoon, miss." A doorman in a golden uniform respectfully opened the door for me.

My face turned red as a tomato. "Thanks..."

My sneakers squeaked embarrassingly against the marble floor. Well-dressed executives bustled past, none paying attention to this out-of-place ordinary girl.

The elevator lobby buzzed with activity. I queued for the regular elevator, nervously organizing my documents.

"Ding—"

Not my elevator, but the VIP elevator beside it opened.

A familiar figure stepped out.

My heart nearly stopped beating.

That profile... that way of walking...

"Impossible. Absolutely impossible." I shook my head, quickly ducking behind a marble pillar.

The man wore a perfectly tailored charcoal gray suit, his wrist watch gleaming under the lights. A young assistant carrying documents walked beside him, briefing him on work matters.

But that profile... it looked EXACTLY like my boyfriend of five years, Adrian Blackwell.

I held my breath, trying to see more clearly.

But the man had his back to me, walking toward the front desk. The receptionist immediately stood up with a bright smile, and they conversed naturally, like old acquaintances.

Even the security guards greeted him proactively—everything seemed so familiar.

I leaned against the pillar, my legs going weak. What the hell was happening?

That profile really looked too much like Adrian... but how could Adrian possibly be here? He was clearly a construction worker who labored at job sites daily, his clothes always carrying dirt and sweat. In our five years together, the most formal I'd ever seen him was in that secondhand suit he wore to a friend's wedding.

My phone suddenly vibrated, and I nearly dropped it.

Adrian's message: "Babe, what are you up to?"

My fingers trembled as I replied: "Delivering contracts... you?"

Almost instantly: "At the site, super busy today. Getting off at eight, can I come straight to yours?"

Then he sent a photo: a dusty construction site with excavators working in the distance.

I stared at the photo, then looked toward the man waiting for the elevator.

"Ding—"

The VIP elevator opened again, and the man stepped inside.

Until the doors closed, I remained frozen behind the pillar.

"I must be seeing things," I told myself. "There are always people who look alike in this world."

The entire contract delivery process felt surreal. I mechanically completed my tasks—signatures, stamps—then took the elevator downstairs.

On the subway home, I replayed everything over and over.

That profile looked way too similar... but how could it be possible?

At eight-thirty that evening, I was cooking pasta in my tiny kitchen when familiar knocking came from outside.

"Cecilia, it's me."

My heart raced as I hurried to open the door.

Outside stood my boyfriend Adrian Blackwell, still wearing dirt-stained work clothes, hard hat tucked under his arm, face marked with sweat and dust.

"Baby!" He grinned, revealing brilliantly white teeth.

I threw myself into his arms, immediately smelling the familiar scent of sweat and concrete.

"You must be exhausted today," I said, standing on tiptoes to kiss his chin.

"Not bad. Seeing you makes it all worth it." Adrian leaned down to kiss my lips. "Mind if I shower first?"

"Go ahead, I'll heat up dinner."

Watching his tired state, my doubts instantly dissolved.

This was MY Adrian—a hardworking, honest construction worker. He worked this hard every day, fighting for our future.

How could he possibly be some financial elite?

Adrian emerged from the shower wearing the cheap T-shirt and jeans I'd bought him.

"Smells amazing, my little chef." He hugged me from behind, chin resting on my shoulder.

"Just regular pasta, nothing special," I laughed.

"Everything you make is special." He whispered in my ear.

We sat at my small dining table bought from a thrift store, eating our simple dinner.

"How was the site today?" I asked.

"Same old—hauling bricks, mixing cement." Adrian rubbed his shoulder. "But the foreman said this project's almost done. Might switch locations next week."

"Will they pay on time?"

"Should be fine." He took my hand. "Baby, thank you for always supporting me. I know being with me is tough..."

"Don't say silly things." I interrupted. "We're family."

Over these five years, I'd helped with his rent, bought him work clothes, even paid for his technical school tuition. Friends called me stupid, but I knew Adrian was a good man—just temporarily struggling.

A flicker of unreadable emotion crossed Adrian's eyes, but it quickly returned to tenderness.

"I love you, Cecilia Thorne," he said seriously.

"I love you too, Adrian Blackwell."

That night, we lay on my narrow single bed. Adrian's arms wrapped around me, my head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.

"Anything special happen today?" Adrian stroked my hair gently.

My body tensed slightly. "No... just delivering contracts, very ordinary day."

"Really? You seem distracted."

"Probably just tired." I nuzzled closer in his embrace. "Hold me tighter."

Adrian tightened his hold, kissing my forehead softly. "My little baby."

I closed my eyes, savoring this warmth.

This was the life I wanted. Simple, real, full of love.

But... why did I still feel this inexplicable unease?

That profile today looked TOO similar...

And that expensive suit, that gleaming watch...

"Cecilia?" Adrian sensed my tension. "You sure you're okay?"

"It's just..." I hesitated. "Today in that building, I saw someone who looked exactly like you."

Adrian's body clearly stiffened for an instant, but quickly relaxed.

"Like me?" He chuckled softly. "There are tons of people who look alike in this world."

"Yeah... that's what I thought too." I smiled back. "Maybe I just miss you too much. Five years, we see each other almost every day. Suddenly seeing a stranger who looks like you felt weird."

"Silly girl." Adrian kissed my forehead again. "Get some sleep, you have work tomorrow."

"Mm."

I closed my eyes, but sleep eluded me.

Adrian's embrace was warm—his body temperature, his scent, his heartbeat... everything so familiar, so real.

But why... why did I still feel like something was wrong?