Secret Revenge: An Enemies-to-Lovers Billionaire Romance

1. Emily

This sneak-in hung on Michael, my tech-savvy friend, hacking into the security systems at the precise half-second. Giddy with adrenaline, I stood in line for Calypso, a high-end, members-only club. My heart pounded in sync with the low baseline of the music seeping faintly out of the club.

Visitors have to scan their fingerprints at the door to be allowed in. Problem… I was not a visitor. The line was getting shorter, and it was almost my turn at the scanner. I eyed it nervously and locked gazed with one of the bouncers. I tried to be natural and smile, but my lips froze as the earpiece hidden underneath my hair squawked with Michael’s voice.

“Emily… small… problem… I need… seconds… distract…”

I resisted the urge to raise my hand to my ear to try to hear better. Calypso had radio jammers of some sort, so Michael and I knew they wouldn’t work well once I got close. Still, I needed to do something.

Shit! There’s only one person left before me!

The bouncer still had his eyes on me. He was suspicious. With my heart in my throat, I quickly rubbed a finger over my lip.

“NEXT!”

The bouncer’s booming voice was directed at me. He hadn’t said a word to anyone else. Yeah… he was suspicious alright.

I walked up to the scanner and put up my index finger. Unsurprisingly, it glowed red.

“Oh, what?” I acted confused.

The bouncer’s eyebrows turned down and he began to reach for me.

“...now!” Michael’s voice came over the speakers.

I looked at my finger as naturally as I could and chuckled breathlessly at the lipstick stain. “Oh, silly me.”

The bouncer paused and looked at the machine, seeing the clear red print. He frowned at me, but took out a handkerchief to wipe the scanner while I made a show of cleaning off my finger too.

I smiled at him and held eye contact to feign confidence as I put my finger against the scanner again. This time it was immediately green.

The bouncer moved aside to let me pass, but narrowed his eyes at me for two seconds more, before turning to the next visitor.

I headed through the doors into the club, the music rushing to assault my hearing. I felt my hands sweating.

Fuck… that was close.

I ran my hand through my hair, casually taking out my hidden earpiece and slipping it into my purse.

It’s useless in here anyway.

Lights flashed above my head, and the ground thrummed beneath my feet from the base as I walked towards the bar. I held my head high, pretending to be someone who deserved to be here. One of the rich. One of the lucky ones.

I recognized many of the people I breezed past as celebrities, businessmen, politicians—the sophisticated elite of New York.

I avoided eye contact as I scanned the club for my target. My eyes widened. I found him, sitting beside the indoor balcony on the floor above me.

Travis Ross, the oldest of the Ross brothers. The three young billionaires had taken over their late father’s empire a year before and now dominated Wall Street. They were on the cover of every business magazine, and quite a few gossip tabloids too.

Next to my target is a man that makes every fibre of my being twist with disdain... and just a bit of fear. Kurt Blackwell. The notorious son of Bryce Blackwell, a criminal mastermind, and the once-trusted ally of Travis’s late father. They both unknowingly command my undivided attention.

I clutch my bag tighter, pretending to sway to the music in an effort to blend in.

My vendetta against the Ross brothers was as personal as it gets, born from the wreckage of my dad”s dreams after their father bulldozed through his life.

I picked up journalism as my weapon, hoping to expose the man who ruined us, but he died before I could land the blow. His empire, however, lived on through his sons. And that will have to do.

I needed a drink.

I weaved through the crowded club, the air reeked of sweat and spilled alcohol.

The thumping bass shook the floor. Snippets of laughter and shouted conversations filled the air. It was a maze of bodies, but I was on a mission.

I made it to the bar and ordered a shot, using the moment to scan the room from my perch on the barstool. I sat with my back slightly turned, so I could keep an eye on the Ross brothers without drawing attention.

With the glass empty, I felt a bit steadier. The brothers were still there, unaware of the storm heading their way. I blended in with the crowd, just another face in the club, but with a purpose none of them could guess.

As Travis spoke, he lifted his hand to make a gesture and my eyes zeroed in on it. That’s all I need. One finger, one fingerprint. The mission was so simple, I thought I couldn’t possibly mess it up. Swipe Travis’s fingerprint off whatever he touched, and Michael could unlock every lick of the secrets their precious little empire holds.

But maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it’s because this man could light up an alleyway with his smile, but I found my eyes wandering over to his face. To the curve of his muscles, and the way his suit fit just right.

With my head spinning slightly from the alcohol—more a hindrance than help at this moment—I realized I needed to pull myself together. This wasn”t just about getting close to him; it was about exposing a family legacy of crimes. It was now or never.

I turned back to the bar, the cool surface a brief solace as I took a final shot, hoping it would steel my nerves rather than fray them further.

I blew out a breath, placing a firm hand against my bag before hopping off the stool. Except, when I looked over to the balcony, they were sitting at… they were no longer there. Their glasses vanished like ghosts, along with my plan to snag Travis”s fingerprints.

Shit.

I took a step forward, but I didn’t have the slightest clue where to go.

Damn it, Emily.

Swallowing hard, I walked over to the balcony, looking around the space for clues. The mouth of a hallway called out to me. I glanced behind me, to ensure no one was looking. A shiver coursed through me, not from the chill in the air but from the realization of how exposed I was.

Come on, Em. You can do this.

I inched a step into the hallway, and dread dropped like an anvil in my stomach. A gloved hand clamped over my mouth, dragging me into the dark space.I tried to scream for help, but the sound was muffled against the intruder”s hand. My heart raced, pounding against my ribcage, and adrenaline surged through my veins. I flailed against my assailant.

”Looking for someone, gorgeous?” The chill in my spine told me everything I needed to know. I was stuck in the hands of Kurt Blackwell. ”You”re new around here. I remember faces, and yours…I would not forget.”

My heart froze, terror gripping me. This is how it ends, isn’t it?

“It doesn’t matter though,” he sighed heavily. “It already feels like you’ve seen too much?”

Fuck.

I shook my head against his hands, frantically as we began to move. No clue where we’re going but pretty sure I’d never see daylight again. Tears sprung to my eyes.

A hand suddenly, yanked me from his grasp. Cool air rushed to my face from where he once held me. The air shifted as I looked up – a little hesitantly and found myself behind a different figure—a presence that, surprisingly, felt safer.

Travis.

”Enough, Blackwell. She”s with me.” His voice was like silk, and he sounded like he’d be my angel in a situation like this. Anyone was better than Kurt.

Kurt”s eyes narrowed, a frosty smile playing on his lips. ”Oh? Since when do you bring guests to our little gatherings, Ross?” His tone was mocking, his posture relaxed yet somehow menacing. ”I wasn”t aware we were opening our doors to strangers.”

”Since when I choose to -- is none of your concern.” He replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ll be taking her home now.”

The standoff continued for a heartbeat longer, Kurt”s gaze piercing me as if seeing right through my fa?ade. Finally, he stepped back, a sneer twisting his features. ”Maybe… keep your playthings a little closer, Ross. We wouldn”t want her... to disappear. You know how easy it is to lose things around here.”

With that, Kurt turned on his heel and vanished into the shadows from which he had emerged, leaving Travis and me alone.

Travis”s grip on me loosened, but he didn”t let go, staring at the space Kurt had disappeared into before breathing a sigh of relief.

He turned to face me, allowing me to see him close for the first time. None of the cameras did him justice.

The reality of him took my breath away—intense blue eyes, that sculpted jawline, and curls I wanted to tangle my fingers in.

My heart raced for reasons not entirely related to fear.

”Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, tinged with genuine concern.

I managed a weak nod, still unable to find my voice as he guided me out of the hallway, his intention clear: we needed to leave, immediately.

”How did you get in here? Shit, that doesn’t matter now. You have no idea of the danger you were just in,” he continued, raking a hand through his hair. You don’t need to tell me.

”I don’t know what idea you came here off of – or what story you think you’ll be able to tell but barking up Kurt’s tree isn’t something you want to do,” Travis clenched his jaw as we moved through the club and out into the night.

My heart palpated so hard it hurt. Does he…

Outside, Travis didn”t release his hold. He seemed on high alert as we approached the valet. That”s when I finally spoke up. ”Why do you think I”m here for a story?”

He glanced at me, raising an eyebrow. “You’re Emily Skye, known for taking down corrupt officials and exposing scandals. I loved your work on the exposure of Deputy Mayor Clayton’s physical and sexual abuse of trans women and the huge charity scandal of Mrs. Rhodes Wellington. Followed the story like a hawk – don’t look so surprised. This is what you do, no?”

A slow whisper, pooled dread in my stomach, sending a cord of fear around my neck. A whisper that voiced, he knew exactly who I was, and with that knowledge, he held an unpredictable power over my mission.

Oh shit. I’d lost control before I even had it.

Frozen in place, I watched, almost in slow motion, as the valet handed Travis the keys.

“Well?” He asked, now fully seated in his car, the passenger door sitting wide open. His grin was lopsided, teasing, pulling. “You coming?

His offer felt like more than just a ride—it was a decision about how deep into this I wanted to go. And something told me that I didn’t truly have a choice.