A Woman Visits Her Cousin Abroad, Not Knowing The Millionaire Residing Next Door Would Fall For Her
The Neighbor Next Door
Casha Preston hadn’t even stepped out of the taxi when a soccer ball slammed into her suitcase and knocked it over, sending her jeans and t-shirts spilling across the cobblestone driveway.
“Welcome to London,” she muttered, blowing a loose strand of hair from her face as she bent to gather her things.
“I’m so sorry,” a little boy called out, racing over with wide eyes and a crooked front tooth.
“I didn’t mean to, Kai.”
A voice barked from the gate next door, deep, commanding, American.
“What did I tell you about kicking the ball toward the driveway?”
Casha looked up to see a man walking toward them, tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a dark cashmere sweater and slacks that looked like they cost more than her entire suitcase.
He had short dark hair, a strong jaw, and eyes the color of stormy skies.
“It was an accident,” the boy said, shrinking behind Cashasa.
“It’s all right,” she said quickly, giving him a soft smile before turning to the man.
“No harm done. I’m Cashasa, visiting my cousin for the summer.”
The man’s gaze lingered on her for a second longer than necessary.
“Julian Reigns,” he said simply, extending a hand.
“This is my son, Kai.”
She shook his hand—firm grip, warm palm.
He looked at her like he was trying to figure her out.
Kai tugged on Julian’s sleeve.
“She’s staying next door.”
Julian’s eyes flicked to the house beside his.
“I guess she is.”
Casha didn’t know it then, but that handshake would change everything.
Her cousin Mia’s townhouse was charming and sun-drenched, tucked in a quiet, upscale neighborhood in Kensington.
Casha had needed the break after a brutal breakup and quitting her chaotic marketing job in Chicago.
She was desperate for a reset.
Mia offered her guest room for the summer and Casa jumped on the first flight out.
She hadn’t expected her cousin to live next to someone like Julian.
He didn’t look like the kind of man who lived in a quiet neighborhood with a 7-year-old.
Every time she saw him stepping out of a sleek black sports car, wearing tailored suits, or giving quiet orders to staff, he looked like someone who belonged in a boardroom, not a backyard.
And yet, every morning she saw him walking Kai to the gate with a backpack slung over one shoulder.
Every evening he returned like clockwork, sometimes with a bag of takeout, sometimes in a chauffeur car, always with that unreadable expression.
“You’ve met Julian?” Mia asked one night over tea.
Casha nodded.
“He’s intense.”
“He’s loaded,” Mia said bluntly.
“Tech millionaire. Sold a startup for something like 80 million two years ago. Keeps quiet, though. Rumors say he took full custody of Kai after his ex disappeared. No one really knows the full story.”
Casha stared out the window.
Julian was in the driveway talking to a man in a suit.
He looked up as if he could feel her watching.
Their eyes met.
Her breath caught.
“He’s not my type,” Casha said quickly.
Mia laughed.
“You said that like you were trying to convince yourself.”
The next morning, Cashasa was walking back from the corner bakery with a paper bag of croissants when she heard Kai’s voice.
“Casha, wait!”
She turned to see him running toward her, his backpack bouncing.
“Dad’s not home yet and I forgot my key. Can I wait with you?”
She hesitated.
“Does your dad know where you are?”
“I left him a note,” Kai said, already stepping inside the gate with her.
They sat on the front steps, splitting a chocolate croissant.
“You like it here?” she asked.
Kai shrugged.
“It’s okay. Dad works a lot, but he says I’m his whole world.”
Her heart tugged.
“He seems like a good dad.”
“He is,” Kai said proudly.
“He just doesn’t smile much.”
Footsteps crunched on the gravel.
Julian was home.
He looked from Kai to Casha, then down at the croissant crumbs.
“I see you made yourself at home.”
Kai grinned.
“Casha saved me from starvation.”
Julian’s eyes softened for a second before he looked at her.
“Thank you. I should have been back 10 minutes ago, but traffic was—”
“It’s fine,” Casha said, standing.
“He was good company.”
Julian nodded.
“Still, I owe you one.”
She didn’t expect him to show up the next day with a small bouquet of white tulips.
“For saving my son from a tragic chocolate croissant famine,” he said, handing them over without a smile.
But there was something in his eyes, something warm.
From that day on, everything shifted.
It started with small things.
Julian appeared at the bakery one morning and insisted on paying for her coffee.
He invited her and Mia to a private garden party he hosted for Kai’s school.
They ran into each other at the bookstore, and she caught him staring at her from behind a biography he definitely wasn’t reading.
