💋 ONE NIGHT WITH MY ENEMY

🔥 ONE NIGHT WITH MY ENEMY Chapter 1: The Stranger in the Rain Isabella Carter & Alexander Blackwood The night I met Alexander Blackwood, I had no idea he would become the man I would hate most in the world. I also had no idea that, before sunrise, I would be in his arms, whispering a stranger’s name against his lips. If I had known the truth, I would have walked away. But that night, I was just a heartbroken girl looking for one evening when life wouldn’t hurt so much. And he was just a handsome stranger with dangerous eyes. Neither of us knew that fate had already decided to destroy us. Or perhaps it had decided to bring us together in the cruelest way possible. ⸻ Rain poured over New York City as I stood outside the restaurant where my father had once celebrated his biggest business victories. Three months ago, our family had everything. Money. Respect. A beautiful home. And a company my father had spent thirty years building from nothing. Now, we had almost nothing left. The company was collapsing. Our bank accounts were frozen. My father barely spoke anymore, and my mother cried whenever she thought nobody was watching. Someone had destroyed our family. Someone powerful enough to make our lawyers give up before the fight even began. I didn’t know his name yet. But I would. And when I did, I promised myself I would make him regret what he’d done. My phone vibrated inside my purse. MOM ❤️ I answered immediately. “Isabella, sweetheart, where are you?” “I’m outside. I’m coming home soon.” There was a pause. “Your father isn’t feeling well again.” My heart tightened. “What happened?” “Nothing serious, darling. He’s just tired.” My mother was lying. I could hear it in her voice. “I’ll be home in twenty minutes.” “Please be careful.” After we hung up, I stared at my reflection in the restaurant window. My mascara had smudged beneath my eyes. My hair was soaked, and my black dress clung to my body from the rain. I looked nothing like the confident woman I had pretended to be all evening. I was twenty-four years old, unemployed, and watching my family’s entire world fall apart. And tonight, I couldn’t bear to go home and pretend I was strong. So I did something I had never done before. I walked into the nearest luxury hotel bar. Just one drink, I told myself. One drink, and then I’d go home. I had no idea that one decision would change everything. ⸻ The bar was dimly lit, with golden lights reflecting off polished marble and crystal glasses. Soft music played in the background. Wealthy men in expensive suits laughed over whiskey while women in elegant dresses whispered behind champagne flutes. I felt completely out of place. Still, I approached the counter and took the empty seat at the far end. “Vodka tonic, please.” The bartender nodded. As I waited, I felt someone watching me. Not the casual glance of a curious stranger. This was different. It was intense enough to make the back of my neck tingle. I turned my head. And forgot how to breathe. A man sat a few seats away from me. He wore a perfectly tailored black suit, his white shirt open at the collar. His dark hair fell slightly over his forehead, and his sharp jawline made him look as though he had stepped out of a magazine designed to make women lose their minds. But it was his eyes that caught me. Dark. Focused. Unreadable. He looked like a man who never heard the word no. And judging by the expensive watch on his wrist, he was probably richer than everyone else in the room. Including me. Not that I had anything left to compare. I quickly looked away. Unfortunately, the universe seemed determined to embarrass me. “You’re staring,” he said. I turned back. “Excuse me?” His mouth curved into the faintest smile. “You’ve been looking at me for the last thirty seconds.” “Don’t flatter yourself.” “Then I must have imagined it.” “You probably imagine a lot of things.” He chuckled quietly. The sound was unexpectedly attractive. I hated that. The bartender placed my drink in front of me, and I took a long sip, hoping the cold liquid would distract me from the stranger’s irritating presence. It didn’t. “Bad night?” he asked. I glanced at him. “Do you always interrogate women you don’t know?” “Only the interesting ones.” “And what makes you think I’m interesting?” He leaned back in his chair, studying me. “You’re sitting in an expensive hotel bar wearing a dress that probably costs more than most people’s rent, looking as though you want to burn the entire city down.” I nearly choked on my drink. “First, this dress was on sale. Second, I don’t want to burn the entire city down.”