Beneath The Billionaire

Chapter3

Sebastian Blake didn’t believe in luck.

Luck was for people who sat around waiting for opportunity to knock. Success, in his world, was meticulously planned, ruthlessly pursued, and fiercely defended. Yet, as he stood at the massive window of his office, overlooking the Manhattan skyline, he couldn’t shake the gnawing sense that his grip on control was slipping.

“Mr. Blake, the Hong Kong investors are waiting on the conference line,” Claire, his assistant, announced from the doorway. Her tone was crisp and professional, but there was a slight hesitation that Sebastian didn’t miss.

“Tell them I’ll join in five,” he said without turning. He could feel her lingering in the doorway, and it grated on his already thin patience. “Was there something else?”

Claire cleared her throat. “There’s been more media attention on the Brooklyn development project. Claims about displacement and gentrification are making waves online. They’re calling for a response from you directly.”

Sebastian’s jaw tightened. The Brooklyn deal was supposed to be his crown jewel—a development that would redefine urban living. But as always, the critics were out in full force, spinning their own narrative.

“Draft a statement,” he said curtly. “Something that shuts it down quickly and cleanly. No dramatics.”

“They’re also organizing a protest downtown,” Claire added carefully. “It’s small for now, but it’s gaining traction.”

Sebastian finally turned to face her, his expression sharp. “Have legal and PR handle it. There’s no need for me to get personally involved.”

Claire gave a tight nod. “Understood. Should I connect you to Hong Kong now?”

“Yes,” he said, turning back toward the window. “And make sure I get updates on the protest. Every hour.

As soon as she left, Sebastian sank into the leather chair behind his desk, loosening the tie that suddenly felt like a noose around his neck.

The truth was, he was used to being the villain. The media loved to paint him as the billionaire with no soul, a man who bulldozed communities for profit and left nothing but glass towers in his wake. It wasn’t entirely untrue, but it wasn’t the whole story either.

He glanced at the stack of papers on his desk—the latest acquisition deal for a failing tech startup. Another high-risk, high-reward move that could cement Blake Industries as a leader in innovation—or backfire spectacularly. No one ever saw the pressure behind the headlines. No one cared that his empire teetered on a knife’s edge every single day.

With a sigh, Sebastian leaned back in his chair, massaging his temples. The call with Hong Kong would be another tightrope act, convincing skeptical investors to trust his vision despite the media storm brewing back home.

His phone buzzed on the desk, and he glanced at the screen. A text from his younger sister, Ella.

Don’t forget dinner Friday night. I need my big brother to actually show up for once.

Sebastian frowned, guilt flickering briefly across his face. Ella was one of the few people in his life who still saw him as something other than a corporate machine, and he’d been terrible about keeping his promises lately. But between the acquisitions, and now having Maya Taylor shadowing his every move, his world felt like it was on fire.

Still, he typed a quick response.

I’ll be there. Promise.

As he set the phone down, his thoughts drifted to Maya.

The stubborn journalist had been a thorn in his side from the moment she walked into his office. Her sharp tongue and refusal to back down infuriated him—and yet, he couldn’t deny the flicker of intrigue she sparked. She looked at him like she saw through every layer of armor he’d spent years perfecting, and it was both unsettling and strangely… addictive.

He shook the thought away. There was no time for distractions, no time for second-guessing himself.

Sebastian straightened his tie, smoothing the lapels of his suit jacket. It was time to focus.

“Claire,” he called as he strode toward the conference room. “Connect me to Hong Kong. Let’s get this done.”

***The call was a success—on paper. Sebastian had secured the investors’ confidence, and the Hong Kong expansion remained on track. But as he sat at the head of the massive conference table, staring at the reports his team had prepared, the faint hum of satisfaction that usually followed a win never came.

Instead, his thoughts kept circling back to Claire’s earlier words. Protest. Displacement. Media attention.

Sebastian couldn’t afford a PR disaster right now, not with the Brooklyn project so close to breaking ground. The investors might not have voiced their concerns openly, but he’d seen it in their faces—any c***k in his empire could be enough to shake their trust.

He drummed his fingers on the table, the steady rhythm doing little to calm the rising irritation. When Claire entered the room, tablet in hand, he didn’t bother looking up.

“Updates?”

“The protest is growing,” Claire said, her tone carefully measured. “Local reporters are already on the scene. Social media is buzzing with footage. It’s still manageable, but…”

“But it won’t stay that way,” he finished for her, his voice clipped.

She hesitated. “Some of the footage mentions you by name. They’re demanding you make a statement about the project.”

Sebastian closed the folder in front of him with a sharp snap. He hated how predictable this had become. No one cared about the jobs the project would create or the long-term economic growth it promised. All they cared about was playing the victim.

He rose abruptly, his chair scraping against the polished floor. “Cancel my afternoon meetings,” he said, already striding toward his office.

Claire blinked. “Sir?”

“We’re going to the protest,” he said over his shoulder.

***The cacophony of shouting voices hit Sebastian the moment he stepped out of the sleek black town car. Protesters crowded the barricades, waving signs with slogans like “Homes Over High-Rises” and “Stop Blake Industries.” The press was already there, cameras flashing as soon as they caught sight of him.

Sebastian straightened his suit jacket, his expression carefully neutral. Every move he made was a performance—calculated, controlled. He wasn’t here to appease anyone. He was here to remind them who held the power.

“Mr. Blake!” A reporter surged forward, shoving a microphone toward his face. “How do you respond to accusations that your Brooklyn development will displace hundreds of low-income families?”

Sebastian gave the reporter a cold, measured look. “Blake Industries has always prioritized responsible development. This project will bring jobs, economic growth, and affordable housing options to the community.”

“Affordable for whom?” another voice shouted from the crowd.

He ignored the question, turning to address the protesters directly. “I understand your concerns. Change is difficult, but this project is about progress—not displacement. We’re committed to working with local leaders to ensure this development benefits everyone.”

The words were rehearsed, but his delivery was flawless. The press would spin it as damage control, but he didn’t care. He’d said what needed to be said.

What he hadn’t expected was to see her.

Standing near the edge of the crowd, notebook in hand, was Maya Taylor.

Sebastian’s jaw tightened. Of course she was here, ready to catch him in a moment of vulnerability and twist it into one of her damning articles. She met his gaze with that same sharp, unyielding look that had been haunting him for days.

Before he could stop himself, he started toward her.