Chapter One: The Story that could ruin him
Lena Hart’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, her pulse hammering. The glow from her laptop screen illuminated the words that could change everything.
“The Untouchable Billionaire: Has Alexander Wolfe Created an Empire of Secrets?”
She exhaled slowly. This was it. The story that could make her career or destroy it. She had spent weeks chasing leads, digging through financial records, and following whispers. And every trail led back to one man.
Alexander Wolfe.
A billionaire too powerful, too untouchable. A man who built his empire through ruthless takeovers, leaving destruction in his wake. No one had ever dared to expose him. Until now.
The cursor blinked at the final paragraph. All she had to do was press send, and by morning, the world would know the truth.
Then—a knock. Loud. Firm.
Lena froze.
Her eyes flickered to the digital clock. 12:04 AM.
Too late for a visitor. Too deliberate for a mistake.
A chill crept up her spine. The only people who knocked at this hour were informants... or threats.
She swallowed and stepped toward the door. “Who is it?” There seemed to be no response from whoever it was at that hour of the day.
Then—a voice. Low. Even. Commanding. “Open the door, Ms. Hart.”
Her breath caught.
She knew that voice.
It is Alexander Wolfe.
Lena’s grip tightened on the doorknob. How had he found her?
Every instinct screamed at her to leave it shut. But her journalist side—her reckless side—refused to turn away from the opportunity standing on the other side.
Heart pounding, she unlatched the door and pulled it open.
And there he was, Alexander Wolfe.
Tall, broad-shouldered, draped in a black coat that probably cost more than her rent. His face was all sharp angles and calculated arrogance, his steel-gray eyes locked onto her with unsettling intensity.
He looked exactly as she had described him in her article. Untouchable. Dangerous. “Are you going to let me in?” he asked, voice deceptively polite.
Lena crossed her arms. “Planning to kill me if I don’t?”
A flicker of something—amusement?—passed over his features.
“No,” he said smoothly. “But I’d prefer not to have this conversation in the hallway.”
A warning.
Lena hesitated. But if he was already here, he knew everything. Running wouldn’t change that. She stepped aside.
Alexander walked in, and instantly, her apartment felt too small. Too intimate.
She shut the door and turned to face him. “I assume you’re not here to subscribe to the Times?”
