Darling Villain (Forbidden Fruit #1)

Chapter 1

Tiffany

Present Day

T hump. Thump. Thump.

The rain intensifies, hammering against the windows of my office. A harsh glow illuminates my desk, casting long shadows across piles of neglected work and unfinished reports. I should be braving the storm outside, but I’m stuck here, drowning in the mess of my own making.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

I’ve always loved the sound of rain—calming, like a warm blanket on a cold winter’s night. But tonight, it only adds to the tension coiled tightly in my stomach.

I glance at the clock and watch as each passing second brings me closer to the moment I’ve been dreading all week.

As the clock strikes seven, I shut my laptop and gather my things before making my way through the quiet halls of Carter Corporation’s headquarters. The clicking of my high heels echoes against the marble floors.

The office is nearly deserted, with only a few employees lingering behind to finish their work. As I pass by them, I offer a faint smile, trying not to let my anxiety show. I sense their curious eyes on me, wondering why the heiress of the company is still in the office at this hour. No one expects the boss’s niece to be working late, especially when she has a reputation for being just a pretty face for the media. After all, everyone knows it will be my future husband who will take over the business while I am expected to marry well and maintain appearances.

I step into the elevator and take a deep breath, attempting to calm my nerves.

Adrien Leroy, the CEO of Leroy Holdings and the man I’m meeting tonight, is a force to be reckoned with. He’s notorious for his cutthroat business tactics and disregard for anyone who gets in his way. And yet, here I am, about to walk into his lion’s den in search of answers.

The elevator dings as it reaches the ground floor, and I step out into the luxurious lobby, heading towards the parking lot. Everything about the Carter Corporation headquarters is sleek and modern, designed to impress anyone who walks through its doors. But now, I can’t help but feel like it’s all just a facade, hiding the darkness and secrets that lurk beneath the surface.

My face lights up with a grin when I see Joel, our family’s chauffeur, standing next to the sleek black Rolls Royce.

Despite the miserable weather, Joel’s spirits are high. He welcomes me with a warm smile and opens the car door for me.

“Miss Tiffany,” he says as I slide into the backseat of the car, the leather cool against my skin. “Are you ready for your meeting?”

I tuck a stray strand of damp hair behind my ear. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Joel knows me well enough to sense my nervousness, so he doesn’t pry further. He closes the door, walks around to the driver’s seat, and starts the engine, pulling the car out of the parking lot and onto the rain-soaked city streets.

L’Auberge, an exclusive French restaurant where Adrien Leroy has agreed to meet me, is only a short fifteen-minute drive away. It’s one of the most expensive restaurants in town, known for being a hotspot for the wealthy and influential to wine, dine, and make deals. Tonight, I have my own deal to make, with none other than the devil himself.

My phone vibrates in my purse, and I fish it out to check the message.

Olivia

I know you’re angry that I didn’t tell you sooner, and I’m sorry, but you can’t avoid me forever.

Call me when you’re ready to talk.

My sister’s timing is, as always, impeccable.

I ignore the message and turn off my phone, tucking it back into my handbag.

I can’t let family drama distract me when I have bigger things to worry about.

My thoughts return to the meeting ahead, and I try to come up with a contingency plan. According to the media, Adrien Leroy is not someone who would give information away out of the goodness of the heart. If I want to learn what he knows, I’ll have to play by his rules, whatever that may entail.

I’ve never met Adrien, but I’ve heard enough about him to know that he’s like all other powerful men I’ve encountered—arrogant, domineering, and always looking for ways to gain more control.

Being a billionaire at the age of thirty-two would be an impressive feat if not for his background of generational wealth and privilege. All of us are the same in that respect, born into a world of riches and power that we never had to earn. But while I have always felt a sense of duty to uphold my family’s legacy, Adrien Leroy seems to be born to rule, untouchable and unrivaled.

The car comes to a stop at the valet parking entrance of L’Auberge. The towering building in front of me boasts an impressive display of classical architecture, with grand columns and intricate moldings. The restaurant occupies the first two floors, while the rest of the building is reserved for private club members only. Everything in front of me—from the expensive cars to the golf courses and tennis courts surrounding the property—serves as a reminder of just how different my life is from that of an average person on the street. And every inch of this place is owned by the man I’m about to meet.

Joel opens my door and holds an umbrella over me as I step onto the pavement.

“Good luck, Miss Tiffany.” He smiles and hands me the umbrella. “I’ll be waiting for you in the parking lot when you’re done.”

“Thank you, Joel. I shouldn’t take too long.”

The doorman greets me with a slight bow and holds the heavy wooden door open for me. As I enter the lavish lobby of L’Auberge, the sounds of soft music and hushed conversations flood my senses. The opulence of my surroundings distracts me momentarily—from the sparkling crystal chandeliers to the plush velvet chairs and intricate floral arrangements. The décor of L’Auberge is elegant and mysterious, oozing out old world charm. It’s as if time has stopped here, trapped in a bubble of extravagance and sophistication that makes the real world outside seem dull in comparison.

I weave through a group of laughing women wearing designer clothes to reach the reception desk. The restaurant is bustling with the city’s most affluent citizens, all clamoring to secure a table at this exclusive establishment.

The ma?tre d’, a tall, impeccably dressed brunette with light grey eyes, gives me a polite smile before quickly assessing my appearance—my dress, heels, and slightly damp hair.

“Good evening, miss. May I help you?”

“Hello, I’m here to see Adrien Leroy.”

The brunette’s smile falters. “Of course, miss... I apologize, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Tiffany Carter.”

“Ah, Miss Carter.” Her eyes travel over me once more before looking down at her list of reservations. “However, Mr. Leroy has a meeting with Mr. Carter tonight.”

Adrien Leroy thinks he’ll be meeting Dean Carter tonight.

“Dean Carter is my uncle,” I clarify. “I am here on his behalf.”

The scrutinizing gaze of the woman before me makes me feel like a lowly peasant seeking an audience with a king. I straighten my back; refusing to let her, or anyone else, belittle me.

With an unreadable expression, the woman checks her list again. “Very well, Miss Carter. Please wait here and I will inform Mr. Leroy of your arrival.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” I say with a polite smile, holding the brunette’s gaze a moment longer than necessary before turning to take a seat on one of the luxurious velvet chairs nearby.

The grandeur of the restaurant is almost suffocating. My conservative black dress and simple heels suddenly seem inadequate in this sea of evening gowns and designer jewels. I had hoped my work attire would exude professionalism, but now I wish I had chosen something more striking. The women around me are dazzling, with their flawless makeup, perfectly styled hair, and extravagant dresses. The only thing that’s not sparkling around here is me.

Despite growing up in an affluent family and attending countless high-profile events, this feels different. There’s an air of exclusivity that permeates every inch of L’Auberge, a sense that money alone cannot buy entry into this world.

It’s only a matter of minutes before the brunette returns, her expression now tinged with a hint of annoyance.

“Mr. Leroy will see you now, Miss Carter.” She gestures towards a grand set of double doors leading to a private dining area. “Please follow me.”

I trail behind the ma?tre d’ through the bustling restaurant, highly aware of the gazes following me. With that many sets of eyes fixated on me, the chance of my uncle not finding out about my little escapade by the morning seems less likely with each step I take.

When we approach the double doors leading to the private dining area, the woman turns to me and says, “Mr. Leroy is waiting for you.”

I nod, but before I can get my nerves under control, the ma?tre d’ pushes the door open and ushers me inside. The door closes behind us with a solid thud, and the noise from the bustling restaurant fades away, leaving an eerie silence in its wake.

The private dining room is dimly lit with warm golden tones, casting a cozy glow over the space. Exquisite artwork depicting knights and mythical creatures adorns the walls, and a large mahogany table, set for two with fine china and crystal glasses, takes center stage. At the head of the table sits Adrien Leroy himself, his piercing eyes fixed on me.

Before coming to meet Adrien face to face, I looked him up to prepare myself for our encounter. Articles all over the internet depicted Adrien Leroy as a ruthless and cunning businessman. From his college days, people described him as intelligent, ambitious, and charming, with a reputation for always getting what he wanted, no matter the cost. As I meet Adrien’s gaze now, I can see those threads of rumors weaving their way into reality. One thing is certain—the photos in the tabloids didn’t do him justice.

The dim lighting adds to the mysterious aura surrounding Adrien Leroy, highlighting his sharp features and defined cheekbones. Tousled waves of thick black hair fall effortlessly around his face. His tailored suit clings to his muscular frame, accentuating his broad shoulders and trim waist. That, combined with his confident and relaxed posture, suggests a man who is used to being in charge.

Adrien Leroy exudes sophistication and power, an alluring yet dangerous combination that leaves me both intrigued and cautious. A subtle smirk plays on his lips, hinting that he knows the effect he has on people and revels in it.

“Miss Carter, I presume?” His voice cuts through the silence. It’s deep and smooth as silk. Our eyes meet, and a shiver runs down my spine.

Adrien’s eyes are spellbinding. Crystal blue and piercing, set in an angular face that could have been sculpted by the hand of a Greek god. As his gaze holds me captive, I become aware that his eyes are not just crystal blue; they’re frigid as ice and hard as steel—like a winter sky frozen into a single perfect moment. There’s nothing cold about the way he looks at me, though. His gaze is searing, almost burning me. He doesn’t make a move to get up from his chair, yet I feel the force of his presence like a physical weight.

I hold his gaze, refusing to let his intensity intimidate me. “Yes, Mr. Leroy, I am Tiffany Carter. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Adrien leans back in his chair, a slow smile spreading across his face, the smirk transforming into a full-fledged grin. “No, Miss Carter, the pleasure is all mine,” he says, oozing charm with every word. “Anna, could you please bring us a bottle of Chateau Mouton Rothschild ’82?” He never breaks eye contact with me as he gives the order. I struggle to keep my cool under his scrutiny and glance away for a moment, pretending to admire the artwork on the walls.

My heart thuds in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears as I try to steady myself.

“Right away, sir.”

I cannot see Anna’s face, but the breathlessness in her voice is unmistakable.

Understandable , I think. At least, I’m not the only one affected by Adrien’s presence.

“I’m sure you can find us a server and a menu, too. I wouldn’t want to keep you from your other duties,” Adrien says politely, yet with an underlying hint of authority that suggests he’s used to having his way.

The room falls into an uneasy silence as Anna rushes off to fulfill Adrien’s request. As the door shuts behind her, effectively trapping me in the room, I turn to face the man whose piercing gaze is as chilling as the weather outside.

In the past, I’ve had my fair share of intimidating encounters, yet I am acutely aware of the danger in such proximity to someone like him—someone who effortlessly commands submission from those around him.

“Miss Carter, please take a seat.” Adrien gestures towards the empty chair opposite him. “And tell me what little game you are playing.”