Falling for the Billionaire while Taking Revenge

His Burning Rage

Henry King’s study reeked of whiskey and fury. The glass in his hand trembled as he stared blankly at the headlines spread across his desk. The photos mocked him—Logan and Skylar crowned in glory, their wedding etched into history as the grandest of the decade. Commentators compared it to a coronation. Strangers online renamed Logan “The True King.”

And Henry? He was the fool.

He slammed his glass against the desk, amber liquid splashing onto the polished wood. His jaw clenched so tight it ached. “How dare he?” he muttered under his breath, the words jagged with rage.

Behind him, Rose placed her hands gently on his shoulders, her voice soft and sweet as though her touch could melt the fire in him. “Henry… please, calm down. Don’t let them get to you. The press is cruel—they’ll move on soon enough.”

But Henry shrugged her off, pacing the length of the room like a caged lion. His veins pulsed with humiliation. “Move on? Do you hear what they’re saying, Rose? That I’ve been erased. That I can’t measure up. That I’m nothing.” He punched the wall with a raw grunt, pain shooting up his arm but doing nothing to ease the storm inside.

Rose winced but forced herself to remain steady. This was her chance—to be the one Henry leaned on when the world abandoned him. “They only speak because Logan put on a show,” she said quickly. “That wedding… anyone would have been overwhelmed. But that doesn’t mean you’ve lost. You’re still Henry King. You’re still—”

“Still what?” Henry whirled on her, eyes bloodshot with rage. “Still the cousin overshadowed by a man who never even needed the family name to build his empire? Do you think I don’t know what they whisper about me? That everything I have—this business, this house—stands because he props it up?”

Rose swallowed, her fingers curling into her dress. She had always known Henry lived in Logan’s shadow, but hearing him admit it so openly made her stomach twist.

Henry’s voice dropped lower, bitterness lacing every word. “Logan may bear the King name, but he never depended on it. He built King Enterprises from the ground up, bigger than the family business, bigger than me. And yet, he still swoops in—swoops in like a vulture—and steals the one thing that was mine.” His fists clenched at his sides. “Skylar was mine. My wedding. My future. And he ripped it all away without even breaking a sweat.”

Rose dared to step closer, placing her hands carefully on his chest, her eyes wide and pleading. “Henry, listen to me. Skylar was never yours if she could leave so easily. But I… I’m here. I stayed. I chose you. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

For a moment, Henry’s glare softened as he stared at her. He wanted to believe her words, to let her loyalty soothe his wounded pride. But even as Rose pressed closer, whispering promises of her devotion, his mind was shackled to the endless comparisons.

Logan was older, stronger, wealthier. Logan commanded respect in every room he entered. Logan had taken the spotlight without asking for it.

And Henry—Henry was left with scraps.

He yanked himself from Rose’s embrace, pacing again. “You don’t understand, Rose. He didn’t just take Skylar—he humiliated me. In front of everyone. He chose to marry her, not because he loved her, but because he knew it would crush me. It was calculated. Spiteful. He wanted to remind me that no matter what I do, I’ll always be beneath him.”

Rose shook her head quickly, trying to redirect his fury. “Henry, no—Logan isn’t like that. He’s cold, yes, but he doesn’t meddle with you. He never has. You’re imagining his motives because you’re angry. He—”

“Don’t tell me what I imagine!” Henry roared, his voice rattling the windows. His pride refused to allow even Rose’s rational words. Deep down, he knew she was right—Logan had never cared enough to meddle in his affairs. But admitting that would mean facing the truth: that Skylar had chosen Logan’s side not because of malice, but because Logan was the better man.

And that truth was unbearable.

Henry collapsed into his chair, running a hand through his disheveled hair. His voice cracked as he muttered, “He betrayed me, Rose. He betrayed me when he took her.”

Rose crouched beside him, her eyes narrowing despite the softness in her voice. “Then fight back. Don’t sit here drowning in whiskey and self-pity. Show them you’re still Henry King. Show Skylar she made a mistake. Show Logan he’s not untouchable.”

Her words dripped with poison disguised as encouragement. She needed Henry’s rage alive; she needed him desperate enough to cling to her. If he gave up, she’d be nothing more than the mistress who ruined a wedding. But if he fought back—if he burned in fury—then she could rise with him.

Henry’s lips twisted into a bitter smile. “Fight back? Against Logan?” He gave a sharp, humorless laugh. “I’d be a fool to fight a battle I can’t win.”

But even as he said it, his pride clawed at him. His veins throbbed with humiliation. He could not accept defeat—not when the world was watching, not when Logan’s shadow threatened to swallow him whole.

He lifted his head, his eyes glinting with something darker than despair. “No… I can’t fight him head-on. But there are other ways. Ways to strike without lifting a sword.”

Rose leaned closer, her pulse quickening. “Tell me.”

Henry didn’t answer, but his gaze hardened, his mind already spinning with desperate schemes. If he couldn’t surpass Logan in wealth or power, he would strike where it hurt most—by tearing apart the fragile alliance between Logan and Skylar.

Rose smiled faintly, satisfied. She could already see where his fury was leading him. And she would be there every step of the way, whispering into his ear, fanning his flames, until Henry’s obsession destroyed them all.