THE BILLIONAIRE GAMBLE

CHAPTER 2

“The difference between seduction and sabotage? Timing.”

Ava Moreno didn’t sleep.

Not because of regret—God, no—but because of calculation. She stood barefoot on her penthouse balcony, her silk robe fluttering in the early morning chill, staring out over Manhattan’s glass and steel sprawl like a queen weighing which kingdoms to burn.

The city below buzzed with aspiration, intrigue, and sins old enough that they could have been written into the concrete itself.

She knew the taste of every one of them.

Three years ago, she’d tasted betrayal most vividly… at the hands of Ethan Blackwood and Selene Laurent.

She pulled her robe tighter around her as the memory twisted fresh in her gut.

Monaco.

The golden-lit gala Selene had orchestrated: a deal Ava had fought for, earned, nearly closed. A future in her grasp. And Ethan… handsome, brilliant Ethan… had stood there, silent, while Selene cut her out like rot. No warning. No defense. Just a glance across the ballroom, filled with pity.

That was the night Ava lost everything she believed in.

That was the night she stopped believing in Ethan.

And last night... last night was just weakness, plain and simple.

One taste. One slip.

Never again.

She dragged a sip from her coffee, black and biting, and thumbed open her phone.

One new message.

From: Ethan Blackwood

Time: 4:17 AM

Text: I didn’t come just for the contract.

Ava stared at it. A muscle in her jaw ticked.

She flipped the phone facedown without answering.

Let him stew. Let him burn.

***

Later that morning

Blackwood International Tower

The elevator glided open with a soft chime, and Ava stepped out, razor-sharp in a navy silk blouse tucked into tailored trousers, the heel of her Louboutins clicking a warning across the marble floors.

No lipstick. Just a cold-blooded winged liner and a glare polished into a weapon.

She wasn’t here to flirt.

She was here to dismantle.

When she entered the 54th-floor conference room, the conversation died instantly.

Men in suits shifted uncomfortably. Assistants looked away.

And at the head of the table… Ethan.

Charcoal gray suit. Rolled-up sleeves. A loosened tie. The very picture of brutal ambition and bad decisions.

His eyes found hers instantly.

Heat flickered. Regret, maybe. Hunger, definitely.

He was hiding it well, but Ava could sense it: the taut tension, the memory of last night thrumming between them like a second pulse.

“Ms. Moreno,” he said, in an even voice, but his words were dark-edged.

"Mr. Blackwood," she answered, smooth as glass.

No one else dared to speak.

They moved through the debrief like professionals. But every slide of the Dubai portfolio, every data point on Selene’s asset grabs, layered over a battlefield only they could see.

Selene Laurent.

Their shared ghost. Their shared ruin.

“She’s targeting the Aurelian asset transfer ahead of the audit,” Ethan said, throwing up the next chart.

“If she locks that down…”

“She won’t,” Ava cut in, voice low.

His mouth twitched. Not a smile. Something harder.

"You’re awfully confident, considering what she did to you the last time you underestimated her," Ethan said, too soft for anyone else to catch.

Ava’s nails bit into her tablet.

Last time.

When Selene had pitted them against each other. Used Ava’s trust. Used Ethan’s ambition. Torn them both apart and walked away clean.

"I don't make the same mistake twice," Ava said, voice slicing the air between them.

Their gazes clashed like swords drawn in a silent war.

And for a heartbeat, the entire room… the deals, the analysts, the polished skyline… ceased to exist.

***

An hour later

Private conference lounge

The door clicked shut behind them.

Finally alone.

Ethan didn’t bother with distance this time. He crossed the room slowly, stalking, until he stood inches from her.

“I meant what I said in that text.”

Ava didn’t look up from her tablet. Cool. Unbothered. Perfectly in control… at least on the surface.

"And I meant what I didn’t reply."

His fingers grazed the back of her chair, slow, dangerous.

"You think you’re still mad at me," he said.

"But you’re mad because you still want me."

She snapped her tablet closed and rose to face him.

“I’m not mad because I want you," Ava said, her voice dangerously soft.

"I’m mad because you broke something I didn’t know could be broken."

A muscle ticked in Ethan’s jaw.

"And you think Selene didn’t break it too?" he said, voice rough.

"You think I didn’t bleed?"

"You bled?" She laughed once… sharp, bitter.

"You stood there and let her gut me."

He stepped closer. No space between them now. Just heat and history and bad, bad decisions waiting to happen.

“I was a coward,” he said roughly.

“I should have fought for you. I should have burned everything down.”

"But you didn’t," she whispered.

Silence.

The kind of silence that came before storms.

He reached for her wrist—not to restrain, but to touch, thumb dragging over her pulse, feeling it race.

“I’m not that man anymore.”

She yanked her hand back like it burned.

"Good," Ava said coldly.

"Because I’m not the woman who needs saving anymore."

For a moment, she thought he would kiss her. Thought she might let him.

Instead, Ethan’s mouth curved into something almost cruel… and far too knowing.

"Who said I was trying to save you?"

Then he turned and walked out, leaving her alone in the glass tower with the pulse of unfinished want still burning in her veins… and the distinct, unsettling sense that this game… had only just begun.

***

Ava remained still for a long time.

She stood with her arms crossed at the window, observing the city writhing below her like a nest of vipers. Power moved in silence and strikes, not passion-fueled distractions.

She needed her focus. Her clarity. Not Ethan Blackwood’s mouth or his damnable hands.

Still, her pulse throbbed in her neck like a secret.

Behind her, her phone buzzed again. Another message.

Mira: Heads up. Laurent's PR team is planting whispers. "Blackwood & Moreno: Lovers or Liars?" It’s trending.

Ava’s stomach twisted… not with panic, but with rage. She could feel Selene’s touch all over it. The timing. The precision. The venom.

Selene Laurent was trying to paint her into a corner… trap her in a narrative she didn’t control.

Not happening.

She walked to the desk and opened her laptop, fingers moving fast. No shaking. No hesitation.

Objective #1: Reclaim the narrative.

Objective #2: Isolate Selene’s leverage.

Objective #3: Remove it. Quietly.

She’d play along for now. Let Selene think she was winning. Let Ethan think he was getting under her skin.

Ava Moreno was a lot of things—but predictable? Never.

***

That evening

Private Lounge, Midtown

Ava met Mira in a dim, exclusive lounge with a no-photos policy and drinks named after sins.

Mira was at the bar already when Ava arrived, her heels kicked off, scrolling her tablet like a woman fixing to start a fire.

“Spit it out,” Ava said, sliding into the seat next to hers.

Mira didn’t waste time. “Selene’s moving faster than I thought. Leaks, whispers, fake boardroom photos. She’s got a narrative and a damn good PR machine.”

“Photos of me and Ethan?”

“Some are old. One’s doctored. One looks real. You in the elevator.”

Ava’s jaw tightened. “She’s digging. Watching.”

“She’s baiting.”

“Then let’s not bite,” Ava said coolly.

“Let her think she’s winning. I want every member of Aurelian’s Dubai board profiled by morning. Family. Debt. Mistresses. Leverage.”

Mira smiled slowly. “Now that’s the Ava I know.”

But Ava wasn’t smiling.

She stirred her drink once, then looked up.

“She came at me personally. Now I’m going to make it personal for her.”

***

Across the city, in a penthouse lit only by city glow, Selene Laurent stood barefoot in front of a wall of monitors—live feeds, spreadsheets, headlines. Her lips curled around a glass of champagne.

“She’s squirming,” Selene murmured.

“Finally.”

From the shadows, a man stepped forward. Unassuming. Pale. A former Blackwood analyst Ava had once fired.

“She’ll hit back,” he said.

“I’m counting on it,” Selene said, her smile turning sharp.

“Let her come swinging. She won’t see what’s already under her skin.”

She raised her glass toward the screen.

“To Ava Moreno. Queen of the Empire. May she fall spectacularly.”

***

The next morning

Moreno Enterprises – Ava’s Private Office

Ava sat in her office surrounded by silence, except for the soft clicking of Mira’s manicured fingers on the tablet beside her. The blinds were drawn. The city outside didn’t matter. Not right now.

“Start with the Dubai board,” Ava said.

Mira slid a document across the desk. “We’ve got two who’ve filed quiet bankruptcy settlements in the past year. One whose son was caught with insider trading charges in Singapore—and another who’s been paying off a mistress through a shell company in Zurich.”

Ava flipped through the files slowly. Thoroughly. Her gaze didn’t flicker.

“Selene’s gunning for a seat,” she murmured.

“That means she needs three votes to shift control. She’s got at least one already—someone feeding her intel. Possibly two.”

Mira nodded. “I’m narrowing down who it could be. But she’s operating clean. No digital footprints. No sloppy messages. Everything’s been scrubbed or rerouted through ghost firms.”

Ava smiled coldly. “Then we’ll make it messy.”

Mira tilted her head. “How?”

“We give her something she can’t resist—something that smells like victory.”

Ava stood, crossing to the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Then we poison it.”

***

Blackwood International

Later that Day

Ethan sat alone in his office, the morning sun gleaming off glass and iron. He hadn’t slept much. Not because of guilt—he’d long made peace with the kind of man he was—but because Ava’s voice echoed louder than he liked.

“Don’t fall in love with me, Ethan.”

She thought he was weak. That she could burn him, walk away, and not get scorched in return.

But Selene had gone too far.

He picked up his phone and dialed a private number.

A voice answered on the third ring. “Blackwood.”

“It’s time,” Ethan said.

“You were right. She’s moving fast. I want every channel monitored. Every board member’s offshore account flagged. And if you find something that links Selene to the insider leak…”

“We bury her?”

Ethan’s jaw tightened. “No. We let Ava do it.”

***

Meanwhile

Selene’s Suite – 74th Floor, Hudson Tower

Selene stood in front of the mirror, watching as an assistant pinned her hair back into a sleek knot. She wore blood-red silk and diamonds at her throat—sharp and deliberate.

She didn’t need to pretend.

Every move Ava made was expected. Calculated. She’d studied her for years. Admired her, even. But admiration only extended so far in war.

The analyst—the ghost from Ava’s past—stepped forward.

“Moreno’s circling your Dubai angle.”

“She’ll find the trail,” Selene said, slipping earrings into place.

“It’s meant to be found.”

“And when she finds the leak?”

“She’ll think she has control.” Selene smiled.

“That’s when I’ll take it from her.”

***

Back at Moreno Enterprises

Ava's eyes locked on the screen as new data loaded.

Mira leaned in. “Got something.”

One file pulsed red.

A shell company. Registered in Luxembourg. Recently linked to Selene’s holding firm—but only just. A single executive signature. One Ava recognized instantly.

Her blood went cold.

Vincent Dane.

A board member. A man who’d once sworn loyalty to Ava’s father—and toasted her own promotion just a year ago.

Betrayal, it turned out, wasn’t only a tactic. It was personal.

Ava sat back, lips pressed into a line.

“Call in a favor,” she said.

“And Mira? Quietly.”

Mira smiled. “Burn him or break him?”

Ava didn’t blink. “Both.”