The Billionaire I Was Hired To Ruin

Serena’s Pov I sat up and looked at the man still fast asleep on the hotel bed. My eyes quickly scanned the room until I spotted his phone on the nightstand. This was always the easy part. Men like him never expected it until it was too late. They thought they controlled the moment, the situation, the outcome, until they realized they didn’t. I reached for the phone. The mattress shifted. I froze. He pushed himself up slowly, rubbing his eyes. His gaze moved around the room before landing on me. Then his eyes widened. “What do you think you’re doing?” “Let’s make this easy,” I said, already walking back to the bed like I hadn’t just tried to steal his passwords. I sat beside him and smiled. “I need access to your account.” His expression changed instantly. “Are you crazy?” “Maybe.” I leaned closer. “Unless you’d rather we invite your wife into this conversation.” He went silent. Fear replaced the anger in his eyes. These men always thought they had the upper hand until they didn’t. I watched him fill in the information without another word, without even looking at me. That look of disgust didn’t affect me anymore. I didn’t feel remorse. Men like him deserved what was coming. I grabbed my purse and headed for the door. “It was nice doing business with you,” I said without looking back. I stepped into the hallway and let the door close behind me. This was how I paid my bills. It wasn’t pretty, but it was mine. Life hadn’t been easy since I left home seven months ago, but at least I was living it on my own terms. No one told me where to go. No one decided who I should marry. No one planned my future. For the first time, my life belonged to me. I reached for the elevator button when my phone started ringing. Dad. I stared at his name for a second before answering. “Hey, Dad.” “Serena, you need to come home. We really need you to accept this deal.” I stepped into the elevator. Here he goes again. That demanding tone instantly made my frustration rise. “I already told you, Dad. I’m not agreeing to marry him.” “But we’re doing what’s best for you.” “No, Dad. You’re not.” “You don’t understand what you’re doing.” “I understand perfectly.” “You’re throwing away a good future because you’re being stubborn.” “A future I didn’t choose,” I corrected. “Serena..” I hung up before he could finish. I stared at my reflection in the elevator mirror. Seven months away from home, and they still thought they could decide my life. The doors opened. I headed for the hotel entrance, already thinking about food, already trying to shake off the guilt that always followed those calls. Then I saw him. A man in a black suit stood near the doors. He wasn’t on his phone, he wasn’t talking to anyone. He was waiting. His eyes met mine instantly. “Serena Blake?” I stopped. Nobody called me that, not here. “Who’s asking?” “Roman Sinclair.” The name meant nothing to me, but the way he said it like he already knew things about me I hadn’t told anyone made something in my chest tighten. “Do I know you?” “No.” “Then we’re done here.” I turned to leave. “Your father called you three times today.” I stopped cold. Slowly, I looked back at him. “How do you know that?” “I know quite a lot about you.” He pulled a thin folder from his jacket and opened it. My stomach dropped. Photos spilled across the pages. Different wigs, different clothes, different names. All me. All enough to ruin me. “Where did you get those?” “You’re good at what you do,” he said, closing the folder like he’d already made his point. “But you’re not invisible.” My jaw tightened. “What do you want?” “Well, I’m offering you a job.” I almost laughed. “I don’t work for strangers.” I almost turned to leave until he spoke again. “You might want to make an exception.” He pulled out another picture. A man in a dark suit. Sharp features. Dark hair. A Sinclair, clearly. “Julian Sinclair. My brother. I want you to get close to him.” I stared at him. “And why would I do that?” “Make him trust you. Make him fall for you.” Roman’s expression hardened. “Then destroy him.” “No.” I handed him back the picture and turned away. “Five million dollars.” My feet stopped before I could stop them. I slowly turned back. “Five million?” “Half when you start, half when you’re finished.” Five million could fix everything. It could change my life, build it bigger, safer. But I didn’t like this man. And I certainly do not like feeling cornered. “No.” He didn’t look surprised. Instead, he opened the folder again. This time there were documents. My name. My bank records. My fake identities. Everything. My heart started beating faster. “You can’t use those. “I can.” He stepped closer, speaking in a low, calm voice. “If I send this to the police, your apartment disappears. Your money disappears. Your freedom, the thing you spent seven months protecting, the thing you left home for disappears as well.” I stared at him, looking for any sign that he was bluffing, but found nothing. “You planned this,” I said quietly. “Yes.” “You’re giving me a choice I don’t actually have.” Roman smiled. “Now you understand.” I hated him. But I hated the situation more. I reached for the picture. “Fine.” “But I have rules,” I added. “I expected that.” I slipped Julian’s picture into my purse. Roman was already walking away. I stood there in the middle of the lobby, holding a photograph of a man I’d never met, about to destroy someone I knew nothing about. For the first time, I wondered if I’d just made the worst decision of my life.