THE BILLIONAIRE’S ENEMY

THE NAME HE REMEMBERED The receptionist looked at the application on her screen twice. Then she looked at the young woman standing in front of her. Then back at the screen. “Rowan?” Celeste smiled politely. “Yes.” The receptionist hesitated. It lasted less than a second, but Celeste caught it. She had become good at noticing hesitation. Usually, it meant someone had already made up their mind about something and was deciding whether to say it aloud. “Celeste Rowan?” “Yes.” The woman’s expression shifted again, almost too slightly to notice. “Please take a seat. Someone from Human Resources will come for you.” “Thank you.” Celeste stepped away from the desk. Voss International’s headquarters looked exactly like the kind of building where people with expensive watches made decisions that changed other people’s lives. Glass walls rose above polished stone floors. The elevators opened and closed without much noise. Employees crossed the lobby carrying tablets, coffee cups, and folders, speaking quietly as though the building itself expected them to. Celeste adjusted the strap of her handbag and sat in one of the waiting chairs. This was supposed to be her final interview. She had already survived two rounds of testing, a financial analysis assessment, and an interview with three senior executives who had studied her résumé as if they were looking for a reason to reject her. She needed the job. Not desperately. But enough. Her previous position had been respectable. The people were decent, the salary was fine, and she had learned a lot. The problem was that she had stopped growing. Voss International was different. A company like this could change the direction of her career. If they gave her the chance. Celeste glanced down at her hands. “Don't overthink it,” she whispered. She had said the same thing twenty minutes ago. It hadn't helped. The elevator doors across the lobby opened. Several executives stepped out. The atmosphere changed almost immediately. Conversations lowered. A few employees straightened. Someone near the reception desk stepped aside without being asked. A man walked through the middle of the group. He wasn't the oldest person there, but everyone moved around him as if they already knew who mattered. Tall. Dark suit. Controlled expression. Roman Voss. Celeste had seen his photograph online. Thirty years old. CEO of Voss International. Billionaire. The kind of businessman newspapers described with words like ruthless, brilliant, private. He had built a reputation for acquiring struggling companies, restructuring them, and turning them profitable. He rarely gave interviews. He rarely appeared publicly with people he didn't trust. Celeste had no reason to care about any of that. So she looked back at her phone. Roman walked past the reception desk. Then stopped. His assistant almost walked into him. “Sir?” Roman didn't answer. His attention was fixed on the receptionist's screen. He couldn't see the entire page from where he stood. He didn't need to. He had seen the name. CELESTE ROWAN. Something inside him went still. The lobby disappeared. For a moment, Roman wasn't thirty anymore. He was ten. Standing outside his father's study. Listening through the closed door. Two men were arguing inside. His father. And Daniel Rowan. Roman could still remember the voices, even after all these years. The sharpness in his father's tone. Daniel's anger. The sudden crash that made Roman step backward. Then shouting. His mother's crying. People running through the house. Months later, the company was collapsing. Then came the newspapers. The accusations. His father's death. And one name appearing again and again. ROWAN EXECUTIVE ACCUSED OF FINANCIAL FRAUD. VOSS INTERNATIONAL COLLAPSE DEEPENS. DANIEL ROWAN DISAPPEARS. Roman had spent twenty years believing the same thing. Daniel Rowan had destroyed his family. He had never forgotten the name. Never. “Roman?” Nathan Cole's voice pulled him back. Roman turned. His COO stood beside him with a tablet in his hand. “What is it?” Nathan asked. Roman looked toward the reception desk again. “Who is that?” Nathan followed his gaze. “The candidate?” “Yes.” Nathan glanced at the screen. “Celeste Rowan. Junior strategy position.” Roman's jaw tightened. “Is she related to Daniel Rowan?” Nathan looked at him. “I'll check.” “Don't.” The answer came so quickly that Nathan stopped. Roman finally looked at him. “Tell HR to hire her.” Nathan stared. “You want to hire her?” “Yes.” “Without finishing the interview?” Roman's expression didn't change. “She passed the assessments.” “She hasn't met the final panel.” “She doesn't need to.” Nathan studied him. He had known Roman for eight years. He knew when Roman was making a business decision. This wasn't one. “Why?” Roman's eyes moved back to Celeste. She was sitting alone, reading something on her phone. There was nothing unusual about her. No obvious connection to the past. No sign that she knew who was watching her. She looked nothing like the man Roman remembered. Somehow, that made it worse. “She has the right surname,” Roman said. Nathan's eyebrows lifted. “That doesn't usually qualify someone for a position.” “It does today.” Roman turned toward the private elevators. “Get everything on her.” Nathan didn't move. “Everything?” “Education. Employment history. Financial records. Family. Mother. Father. Addresses. Associates.” Nathan's expression hardened. “You're serious.” Roman looked back at him. “Have I ever sounded unserious?” “No.” “Then get it done.” Roman stepped into the elevator. Just before the doors closed, he looked at Nathan again. “And don't let her know I ordered the investigation.” The doors shut. Nathan remained where he was. His eyes moved toward Celeste. Then toward the elevator. He had seen Roman angry. He had seen him betrayed. He had watched him dismantle companies with the same cold precision other men used to sign contracts. But he had never seen Roman react to an applicant like that. Nathan looked at the name again. CELESTE ROWAN. He wondered what Roman remembered. Ten minutes later, Celeste was called into the interview room. She had prepared herself for three executives. There was only one woman sitting behind the table. “Ms. Rowan?” “Yes.” “Please sit.” Celeste took the chair opposite her. The woman offered a professional smile. “I'll keep this brief. Your assessment scores were excellent.” Some of the tension left Celeste's shoulders. “Thank you.” “Your previous employer described you as exceptionally analytical.” Celeste smiled. “I like numbers.” “Most people don't.” “Most people don't like numbers that disagree with them.” The woman laughed. It wasn't the polite laugh people used when they were trying to move a conversation along. She genuinely found it funny. “That is an interesting answer.” Celeste leaned back slightly. She still couldn't tell whether the interview was going well. The woman glanced at her résumé. “Why Voss International?” Celeste didn't need to think about it. “Because I want to work somewhere where strategy actually matters.” “And if you don't get this position?” “I'll apply somewhere else.” The woman blinked. Celeste realized how blunt that sounded, but she didn't take it back. “I want the position,” she added. “I'm just not going to pretend my life ends if I don't get it.” For the first time, the woman's smile became completely genuine. “You may have an interesting future here, Ms. Rowan.” The interview ended less than fifteen minutes later. Celeste walked back into the lobby feeling confused. That was it? She had expected a battle. Instead, it had felt almost too easy. Her phone buzzed. She pulled it from her bag. An email. VOSS INTERNATIONAL -- EMPLOYMENT DECISION Her heart jumped. She opened it. Dear Ms. Rowan, We are pleased to offer you the position of Junior Corporate Strategist at Voss International. Celeste stared at the screen. Then read it again. “You're kidding.” She hadn't even finished processing the words when another message appeared. Start Monday. 8:00 a.m. A laugh escaped her. “Okay.” For the first time that morning, she let herself breathe. She slipped the phone into her bag and walked toward the revolving doors. She never noticed the man standing on the upper floor behind the glass. Roman watched her leave. He didn't move until she disappeared from view. Then he turned toward his office. His office was silent when he entered. Roman removed his jacket and placed it over the back of his chair. Nathan was already waiting. A thin file sat on the desk. Roman looked at it. “That's everything?” “For now.” Roman picked it up. The first page contained only the basics. CELESTE ROWAN Age: 24 Education: Finance and Strategic Management Current Employment: — Roman's eyes moved down the page. Mother: Miriam Rowan. He paused. Then continued. Father: Daniel Rowan. His fingers stopped. There it was. The name that had followed him for twenty years. Roman turned the page. Photographs. Celeste at university. Celeste receiving an academic award. Celeste standing beside an older woman. Her mother. Roman studied the photograph. Miriam Rowan. He remembered her too. Not perfectly. But enough. He remembered seeing her outside the old Voss headquarters on the night everything fell apart. He remembered the fear in her face. Then, just as quickly, she had disappeared. Roman turned another page. Addresses. Employment records. Bank information. Everything looked ordinary. Too ordinary. He frowned. Nathan watched him carefully. “There isn't much,” he said. “There's always something.” “Maybe she's just a normal twenty-four-year-old.” Roman looked up. “Her father wasn't normal.” Nathan held his gaze. “She isn't her father.” Roman said nothing. Nathan knew better than to push. Roman closed the file. For a moment, he sat completely still. Then he opened the drawer of his desk. Inside was an old photograph. The edges were worn. The paper had faded with age. Two men stood outside a company building. One was Edward Voss. Roman's father. The other was Daniel Rowan. They were smiling. Friends. Partners. Men who had trusted each other. Roman hated the photograph. He had hated it for years. Because his father had trusted Daniel. And Daniel had betrayed him. Roman turned the photograph over. Five words were written across the back. He had read them hundreds of times. He read them again. HE WILL BETRAY YOU. Roman ran his thumb over the handwriting. The message had appeared before the collapse. Before the accusations. Before his father's death. For twenty years, Roman had wondered who had written it. He had never found the answer. Now Daniel Rowan's daughter had walked into his company. Roman looked at Celeste's photograph. She had no idea why she had been hired. She didn't know what he remembered. She didn't know what Daniel Rowan meant to him. And she certainly didn't know what Roman intended to do next. He would find out what Daniel had hidden. And if Celeste knew anything about it, he would find that out too. Roman placed her photograph beside the old picture. The two photographs sat next to each other. Two generations. Two families. One unfinished war. His phone rang. Roman answered. “Voss.” For a moment, there was only silence. Then a distorted voice spoke. “You should not have hired her.” Roman's expression hardened. “Who is this?” The line went dead. He lowered the phone slowly. His eyes returned to Celeste's photograph. For the first time that night, a different thought entered his mind. What if hiring her hadn't been his decision at all?