THE BILLIONAIRE GAMBLE

CHAPTER 3

“Power isn’t always taken by force. Sometimes, it’s stolen with a kiss.”

Ava didn’t open the door for him.

She left it unlocked.

Not an invitation. A challenge.

Ethan stepped inside like he knew the rules had changed but didn’t care to follow them. It was quiet in the penthouse, dimly-lit by the glow of the fireplace. Ava was barefooted and her silk slip hugged every unforgiving line of her body as she stood beside it, untouched glass of wine beside her.

She didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

But the air crackled like a live wire between them.

He drew nearer, each step a measure of control. When he got to her he lowered a knuckle down the line of her jaw, as though it were something he was trying to convince himself was real. Still fire. Still ice.

She didn’t lean in.

But she didn’t pull away.

Their kiss was softer this time. No push, no pull… just the kind of tension that burned slow and buried deep. His hand slid around her waist, anchoring her to him like gravity. She melted, just for a second, just enough to forget everything except the feel of him.

He backed her into the wall, hands everywhere… possessive, familiar, like he already knew her edges and where to press to make her gasp.

She tore at his shirt. He unzipped her like a secret.

“You still taste like a lie,” she whispered against his lips.

“And you,” he murmured in return, “taste like a sin, that I’m never going to regret.

She curled her legs around his waist. He took her through the dark like he knew the way.

Like this was already home.

Clothes scattered. Breath hitched. And when he finally sank into her, it was slow and deliberate… like he wasn’t just taking her body, but something much riskier.

She let him.

Just this once.

***

Later

Ethan was asleep in her bed, breath steady, one hand tangled in the sheets like he wasn’t ready to let go.

Ava stood at the window again, robe slipping off one shoulder, wine glass in hand, but her mind was nowhere near the skyline.

It was on Selene Laurent.

That name tasted worse every time she remembered it. Not because of a business deal or betrayal on paper… but because Selene hadn’t just taken something from her.

She’d known exactly where to cut.

Exactly what to ruin.

Selene wasn’t after profit. She was after domination. And she played long games with pretty smiles and precision knives.

Lately, she’d been circling again. Quiet calls to Ava’s former allies. Subtle shifts in Dubai’s leverage. A familiar pattern.

Ava saw it for what it was: another opening move.

And Ethan?

He was caught between them.

He didn’t know it yet. Didn’t know how deep Selene’s manipulations ran or how personal this war had become.

But Ava did.

And if Selene thought this would end the same way it did last time?

She had another thing coming.

Because this time, Ava wasn’t playing defense.

This time, she’d be the one to strike first.

Ava looked down at the man in her bed. Beautiful. Complicated. Dangerous.

And caught in the crossfire.

She didn’t know what Ethan’s endgame was yet. But Selene?

Selene’s was crystal clear.

And Ava would burn her for it—brick by f**king brick.

***

She went back to the bedroom slowly, like a storm returning to the sea.

Ethan was half covered in the silk sheets, eyes closed, but she could tell he wasn’t sleeping. Not really. Men like him did not actually sleep, they pretended when they were formulating a plan.

She stopped at the end of the bed and let the robe slide from her shoulders.

“Manners,” he muttered, voice heavy with sleep… or possibly l**t.

She didn’t answer. In one slow, fluid motion, she climbed back onto the bed and straddled him.

His hands instinctively slipped to her hips, but she pinned them above his head, her hair falling like a curtain between them.

“I’m not here to stay,” she said softly.

“So ruin me now that you’re here.”

She kissed him hard… biting, bruising. She was slow against him, rolling until he was groaning under her, bit by bit losing the reins of his control with every deep roll of her hips.

And as he flipped her under him and took over, like a man pushed to his limit, she smiled into his mouth… because she had orchestrated it that way.

They fought like adversaries, every thrust a provocation, every moan a taunt.

When she came apart under him, her nails raking red trails along his back, she gasped his name like a curse.

And he replied with a promise he never voiced: I’m not letting go.

But when he slept, again, She didn't sleep

She rarely did when things felt this close to falling apart.

Because a softness was a luxury she couldn’t afford.

Not while Vincent Dane was still alive.

She sat on the edge of the bed as dawn bled into the skyline, watching Ethan’s silhouette in the sheets. His back was bare. His breathing was slow. But she knew better than to believe men like him ever truly slept.

Especially not when the world was watching.

Her phone vibrated once—secure line. Mira.

> “Vincent Dane is already sweating. Zurich’s holding account flagged activity two hours ago. Looks like he’s trying to pull out.”

Ava’s lips curled. “Let him. Then freeze it.”

> “Done.”

> “And the Dubai board?”

> “Leverage set. Waiting on your word.”

Ava ended the call and stood. She pulled her robe tighter, not because of modesty—but because the mask had to return.

The woman Ethan touched last night was no one’s pawn.

The woman who walked into the boardroom today?

She’d be a queen.

By the time Ethan stirred, she was dressed in a dark green sheath and heels sharp enough to wound. She poured him a black coffee, set it on the nightstand, and said nothing.

He opened his eyes slowly, his gaze meeting hers from across the room.

“Leaving without a goodbye?”

“This is not a goodbye,” she said as she moved toward the door.

“It’s a warning.”

He arched a brow, voice rough. “That I’m a distraction?”

“That you’re already in it, Ethan.” Her gaze was unflinching.

“Just don’t forget who lit the match.”

And with that, she was gone.

***

An Hour Later

A members-only club in downtown Manhattan

Vincent Dane was right on time. Of course he did. It was the one virtue that snakes held onto while shedding skin; punctuality.

Ava was seated in the corner booth, legs crossed, a glass of scotch in front of her that had yet to be sipped. She didn’t look at him when he came near.

“You wanted me to be discreet,” he said, seated across from her.

“So let’s be quick.”

Ava tilted her head. “That is how you lost your spine, quick.”

Vincent stiffened. “Careful, Ava. I’ve had your back from day one.”

“No,” she said coolly.

“You stood with my father.” When he passed, you did what every ball-less enzyme does — looked for the next rising sun. Sorry, you chose the wrong one.”

“I don’t know what you think you know…”

“Zurich,” she interrupted, pushing a flash drive across the table.

“And Luxembourg. And the call you placed last week to Selene’s holding company—intercepted and decrypted.”

His face drained of color.

“You’re bluffing.”

Her voice was silk-wrapped steel as she leaned in.

“I never bluff. You betrayed me, Vincent. And you’re going to pay for it.”

His jaw clenched. “What do you want?”

“I want to vote you on to the Dubai board. Publicly. and I want a public statement condemning the leaking of insider information. And I would like your resignation from the advisory committee.”

“You’re insane.”

“I’m generous.” She smiled coldly.

“Because the alternative is me leaking every file on that flash drive to the press, the SEC and your wife.”

He swallowed hard.

“And if you think I’m not, she continued, standing up.

“Ask yourself how many men I’ve buried on my way up.”

She walked out and never looked back.

Vincent froze, already reaching for the scotch she’d left.

It tasted like smoke.

And ruin.

***

Meanwhile

Selene’s Private Car—Downtown

Selene scrolled through the headlines Mira had warned Ava about. They were already evolving.

> BLACKWOOD & MORENO: BUSINESS BEDFELLOWS OR SOMETHING MORE?

The narrative was shifting, but not fast enough.

She tapped the screen once, zooming in on a still frame—a blurry capture of Ava and Ethan in that elevator.

“You should’ve run when you had the chance,” Selene muttered.

The man beside her—her mole—spoke up.

“You think Ava’s coming for you now?”

“Oh, she’s already halfway here.” Selene smiled without warmth.

“But she doesn’t realize yet… this isn’t about Ethan. It never was.”

She turned toward the window, eyes gleaming.

“It’s about legacy. Her father’s empire. My father’s ghost. Everything she thinks she inherited… she only has because I let her.”

A pause.

“And I’m done being generous.”

***

Later That Morning

Blackwood International – Ethan’s Office

Ethan tightened his cufflinks and reviewed the overnight surveillance. Everything Selene touched was calculated—but he knew her tells. Knew the rhythm of her destruction.

Ava thought she was fighting Selene alone.

She wasn’t.

He pulled up a video feed—Zurich bank logs. Dane’s account.

And beside it? A flagged transfer.

Anonymous, encrypted, barely traceable.

Except he had the decryption key. From a time before Ava ever touched the boardroom.

A name flashed.

SELENE LAURENT HOLDINGS – SUBDIVISION: CHIMERA

He leaned back in his chair, letting the puzzle shift into place.

So Selene was playing long. Good.

So was he.

And if Ava thought she could handle this war alone…

She was wrong.

Because Ethan Blackwood didn’t just survive empire wars.

He ended them.