THE BILLIONAIRE GAMBLE

“The bet was reckless which is exactly why she made it” The Manhattan skyline sparkled like polished obsidian through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Waldorf Royale’s private penthouse lounge. The room oozed power, velvet, crystal and money dripped from its every surface. The air smelled like ambition and aged whiskey. And Ava Moreno, moved through it all like she owned the place. She’d learned the hard way: You couldn’t just survive in a room like this. You had to devour it. Selene Laurent had taught her that. Once upon a time. Ava shook the thought away, pushing forward, her heels clicking against the marble floor. She was past the ghosts of Monaco, past the games that had turned her world upside down, and right in front of the man who’d been at the center of it all: Ethan Blackwood. Every man in the room wore power like armor. Ethan wore it like a second skin. Her body hated how easily it remembered him. Worse… how it reacted to him. What she hated more was the fact that she’d trusted him once. Before Selene had shattered that trust. “Let’s make it interesting,” Ava said, her eyes glinting with something sharp as she raised a single brow, lips curling into a smile that promised danger wrapped in silk. “You win the deal… you tell me what my next move is. I win? You disappear from the board for six months.” Ethan’s glass paused midair, his sharp eyes assessing her with that familiar blend of recognition, regret, and challenge. But all of it was hidden quickly behind his smirk. God, he was infuriating in that navy suit, with his barely-tamed arrogance. “And if I say no?” His voice was low, dark velvet. “Then I assume you’re scared,” Ava replied coolly, swirling her champagne. “And I’ll just enjoy the win without the pleasure of your humiliation.” That did it. His jaw flexed. Ava saw it… the flicker of pride, the silent dare. He stepped closer, closing the space between them. The scent of his cologne, sharp and expensive, mixed with the faint but lingering heat of old betrayals. Ava couldn’t escape the feeling that their history was a live wire, one wrong move away from snapping. “Fine,” Ethan said, his voice dropping into something dangerous. “You want war? I’ll give you one. But if I win…” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear. “I want full control.” Ava didn’t flinch. Not this time. “You’ve never had it,” she whispered back, a quiet promise in the words. “You never will.” They stared into each other's eyes, silent tension breaking the air between them like an unspoken challenge. A warning. They were flirting with the fire, and neither was ready to quit. The world around them continued on… cameras snapped, billionaires murmured, deals shifted. But at that moment, it was just them. Game on. *** Hours later, they met again. Unexpectedly, alone. In the penthouse elevator. Somewhere in the air was something they were trying to say, an atmosphere that neither of them could escape. She could smell his cologne, crisp, expensive, hazily addictive… it made her skin spark with memory. The last time Ava had smelled that cologne, it was Monaco. At a party Selene had thrown. The night that had unraveled everything. It had been supposed to be a simple transaction, a straightforward business deal. Instead, Selene had blindsided her, turning everything personal. And Ethan, standing by her side then, had disappeared into the night without a word of defense. Ava’s jaw clenched at the memory. “You always play this dirty?” Ava asked now, her voice a controlled edge as she refused to look at him, her focus on the glowing elevator buttons. Ethan’s voice brushed her neck, his tone dark and low. “Only when the prize is worth it.” The elevator jerked to a halt between floor… and the lights flickered. Silence. Heat. History. He clutched her wrist and drew her to him. She didn’t resist. He spun her, smashing her against the mirrored wall of the elevator as he caged her with his body. His fingers skimmed her jaw, a thumb trailing down the curve of her neck, causing fire to race through her veins. “This isn’t a bargaining session,” he murmured, his voice rough with something more deeper. “I want you. In every way that breaks the rules.” She should’ve slapped him. Three years ago, she might have. But tonight was different. Instead, her fingers skimmed down his chest to the buckle of his belt. She kissed him, and her breath caught, hard and hungry, as if she could kiss away the hurt, the past, the betrayal. The kiss wasn’t soft. It was a war. Tongues clashing, teeth scraping, breaths stolen in the frenzy of desire and hate. Ethan lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist, skirt riding high. The friction was maddening. The heat unbearable. His hips ground into hers, and she moaned in his mouth. “Say it,” he snarled, his voice thick with the same dare he spurted at all times. “Tell me you want this.” Ava bit his lower lip, tasting the mix of fury and something else… something far too familiar. She pulled back, whispering against his throat, “I want you to lose.” His laugh was low, dark, and wicked. He kissed her harder, his hands running down her body, claiming, taking, marking. Neither of them would be the same after tonight. Because power wasn’t the only thing on the line anymore. There were old debts. Old betrayals. And Ava Moreno didn’t lose twice. Not to Selene. Not to Ethan. Not to anyone. Her back hit the mirror again, and this time, it cracked. A spider web fracture spread from the impact, but neither of them cared. Ethan’s mouth was on her collarbone, his hands dragging up her thighs, pushing her silk skirt higher and higher until she was bare to him. “There you are, you drive me crazy,” he groaned, making a bruise just under her jaw. Ava’s head tilted back, her fingers reaching and gripping his hair, nails scraping his scalp. “Not used to women being in charge of things, are you?” “No,” he said, breath ragged. “But I’m becoming accustomed to you.” He fell to his knees before her like a sinner at an altar, ripping the lace from her hips with greedy hands, eyes dark and hungry. “Keep your heels on.” Ava’s breath caught. His mouth was on hers before she could retort… hot, accurate, devastating. Her hips bucked forward, a low moan escaping her mouth as pleasure washed over her like a shockwave. This wasn’t careful. This wasn’t romantic. This was consumption. And when she came, it was with his name on her lips—soft, bitten off, but undeniable. Ethan stood slowly, l*****g his bottom lip like he was memorizing her taste. “Consider that… a preview of how I plan to win.” Still breathless, she laughed once, low and dangerous. “You think that’s enough to make me fold?” “No,” he said, brushing his thumb along her swollen mouth. “But I think it’s enough to make you want me to win.” She fixed her skirt with shaking hands and leveled him with a stare that could cut steel. “Enjoy the moment, Blackwood. Because next time, I’ll be the one on top.” Ding. The elevator jolted back to life. The doors opened, and just like that, they were back in the world of power plays and contracts. Back in control—at least on the surface. But something had shifted. And it wouldn’t be the last time they crossed lines better left uncrossed. They stepped outside as if nothing transpired. Her heels clicked with practiced authority… one step ahead — as Ava walked, cool of face and unreadable of eye. Ethan trailed behind, hands in his pockets, the taste of her still in his mouth. The power players of Manhattan back in the lounge were sipping top-shelf whiskey and toasting old money. They don’t know that war has already begun — in boardrooms, bedrooms and elevator shafts. “Ms. Moreno,” a voice called sharply near the bar. It was Selene Laurent. Ava froze. So did Ethan. At the marble counter’s edge, a martini glass balanced delicately in her grip, was Selene… sleek and poised, and venom encrusted in diamonds. The dress was red as blood and hugged every fatal curve, and her smirk could shear through steel. “I heard you were bidding on the same empire,” Selene purred, her gaze skipping back and forth between the two of them with measured care. “How cozy.” Ava didn’t blink. “Funny. I thought you’d gone through your last dozen already.” “Oh, I have. But this one?” Selene’s gaze slid to Ethan. “This one is personal.” Her hand grazed the lapel of Ethan’s suit… intimate, proprietary. Ava’s stomach knotted, but she didn’t flinch. Not an inch. Selene’s smile widened. “I always had a soft spot for the dirty players.” Ava c****d her head, her voice silky. “Well, then I hope you’re prepared to lose.” And in an instant, the atmosphere chilled. The tension coiled tighter. Because now it was three players at the table. And only one would leave with everything