Destroying the billionaire who loves me

Chapter 3: The Ghost in the Machine

Arielle'S POV

"One day, you'll understand why I did it, Ari. It was always for you."

I sat on the edge of my bed, the glowing screen of my laptop the only light in the cramped apartment. My hand hovered over the play button, trembling just enough to make the cursor dance. This was the ritual. This was the fuel.

The video file was titled ‘Birthday_24’. My father had filmed these in a frantic race against his own failing lungs, a library of fatherly advice and whispered love meant to last me a lifetime.

I clicked play.

The image was grainy, the color washed out by the cheap lens of a decade-old camcorder. My father, Garrick, sat in the same chair I remembered from the studio apartment. But he looked smaller. Shrunken. His skin was the color of old parchment, pulled tight over cheekbones that sharp enough to cut.

"Happy twenty-four, Little Bird," he wheezed. He paused, a wet, rattling cough shaking his entire frame. He fought it down, gripping the arms of the chair until his knuckles turned white. "You’re... you’re a woman now. Probably finished with all that schooling. I hope you’re wearing something beautiful today."

"I am, Daddy," I whispered to the empty room. I was wearing a power suit. A shroud for the girl I used to be.

"I put the last of the trust together," he continued, his voice dropping to a rasping whistle. "It wasn't much, just the scraps from the sale and what I could hide from the collectors. But it’s yours. Use it to build a life where you don't have to breathe in the dust. Promise me."

He started coughing again, a violent, hacking sound that went on for ten agonizing seconds. He reached for a glass of water, but his hand shook so hard he knocked it over. He didn't swear. He just looked at the camera with eyes full of a devastating, quiet apology.

"The Vosses... they’re taking the house next week," he whispered, leaning closer to the lens. "They said my 'service' didn't qualify for the grace period. Don't be angry, Ari. The world is just... it’s just built for people with bigger lungs than mine. You stay soft. You keep that heart of yours."

The video cut to black.

"I can't stay soft, Daddy," I said, my voice cold and hard as a diamond. "They didn't just take the house. They took the air out of your chest."

I stood up, crossing to the mirror. The "bubbly" girl from the restaurant was gone. The woman staring back at me had eyes like flint. I thought of Alexander… the way he’d looked in the rain, the way he’d kissed me like I was the only thing that mattered.

‘He’s a Voss,’ I reminded myself. ‘He’s the 'service' heir. He’s the one who signs the checks that don't cover the funerals. He’s in charge now.’

I paced my room.

"How can I not accept this job?" I whispered to myself. "This is my chance to hit them from inside."

~

I grabbed my bag and headed for the door. VIG Headquarters didn't just look like an office building; it looked like a fortress of glass and steel designed to remind the rest of the world how small they were.

The lobby was a cathedral of white marble. I walked to the security desk, my heels clicking a steady, aggressive rhythm.

"Arielle Lorre," I said to the guard. "I’m the new PA for the CEO."

The guard checked his screen, then looked up, his expression shifting from bored to impressed. "Floor sixty-four, Ms. Lorre. Mr. Voss is expecting you. He’s already cleared your badge."

The elevator ride was silent and nauseatingly fast. When the doors opened, I was met with a panoramic view of the city. At the end of the hall, behind a set of double oak doors, sat the man I had to destroy.

I didn't knock. I pushed the doors open.

Alexander was standing by the window, his back to me. He was looking out over the city as if he owned every brick of it. He didn't turn around immediately.

"You’re three minutes early," he said, his voice echoing in the vast space. "I like punctuality. It suggests a certain level of... hunger."

"I’m hungry for a lot of things, Mr. Voss," I replied.

He turned then. He wasn't wearing the coat from the rain. He was in a bespoke charcoal suit that screamed "One Percent." His eyes swept over me, lingering on my lips for a fraction of a second before settling on my eyes.

"Last night, I was a stranger in the rain," he said, taking a slow step toward me. "Today, I’m the man who signs your paycheck. Does that change the 'humanity' speech, Arielle?"

"It changes the context," I said, stepping into his personal space. I could smell him, that same sandalwood scent. It was a physical assault on my resolve. "I didn't realize your idea of 'mingling with commoners' involved letting waiters bully people for entertainment."

Alexander’s expression darkened. "That wasn't entertainment. It was a test. I wanted to see who would step up when the stakes were low. Most people fail. You didn't."

"Is that what we are to you? A series of tests?" I snapped. "Some of us don't have the luxury of failing, Alexander. Some of us don't have a safety net."

He walked behind his desk, leaning back in his leather chair. "And that’s exactly why you’re here. You’re overqualified, you’re aggressive, and you have a chip on your shoulder the size of this building. I need someone who doesn't look at me with stars in their eyes."

"You won't have to worry about that," I muttered.

"Good." He slid a thick folder across the desk. "This is my schedule for the next forty-eight hours. You’ll be at my side for every meeting, every dinner, every late-night session. You have full access to my digital files and my personal correspondence. You are my shadow."

I looked at the folder. 'Full access.' It was as if he were handing me the keys to his own execution.

"Is there a problem?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave.

"No problem," I said, picking up the folder. "I’m just wondering why you’d trust a stranger with so much."

Alexander stood up and walked around the desk until he was inches away from me. He leaned down, his breath warm against my ear.

"Because I saw your eyes in the rain, Arielle. You don't know how to lie."

I felt a surge of pure, unadulterated hatred, and something else, something terrifyingly like attraction. I gripped the folder so hard the cardboard crinkled.

"Don't bet on that," I whispered.

He chuckled, a low, dangerous sound. He leaned even closer, and I shot my eyes. It took everything in me to stop myself from grabbing him and devouring his lips again.

"Get to work, Ms. Lorre. We have a world to run."

He leaned backwards, causing me to sigh. image flashes from the kiss came back again, and I quickly shook my head.

I walked to my desk in the outer office, my heart thundering. I sat down and opened the folder. The first page was a list of VIG’s manufacturing plants.

I traced the name of the factory where my father had died.

"I'm here, Daddy," I whispered, the image of his coughing face flashing in my mind. "I'm inside the house now. And I'm going to burn it down from the inside out."

I looked through the glass partition at Alexander. He was back at the window, unsuspecting, a king in a tower of glass. He t

hought he’d found a "Good Samaritan."

Someone worthy to share secrets of the company with.

He had no idea what he’d just invited into the company!