Beneath The Billionaire's lies.

The revolving glass doors of Duvall Enterprises gleamed under the morning sun, rotating like the entrance to another world—a world Elena Cortez had never imagined herself entering again. Not since that night. Not since the fire. Not since him. Clutching the slim black leather folder to her chest, Elena paused at the threshold of the towering skyscraper. The building pierced the clouds like a dagger made of glass and ambition. Her heels clicked against the polished marble floor as she stepped in, drawing glances from sharply dressed executives and interns alike. Her long auburn hair was tied neatly at the nape of her neck, but a rebellious strand danced across her cheek as if whispering, Run. But she wouldn’t. Not today. She had fought too hard to come this far. Every application, every rejection, every sleepless night whispering prayers into her pillow—it had led her here. And she needed this job. No, she needed this chance. The elevator chimed at the penthouse floor, its doors sliding open to reveal a vast office suite more luxurious than most hotel lobbies. Glass walls offered a panoramic view of Manhattan. Chrome accents glistened beside lush indoor plants. Every detail screamed wealth and control—except the man standing behind the obsidian desk, his back to her. “Elena Cortez,” the receptionist had said, ushering her in without making eye contact, as though Elena was just another applicant. “Mr. Duvall will see you now.” Her breath caught the moment he turned. Jaxon Duvall. The same cold, magnetic eyes. The same chiseled jaw she remembered tracing with trembling fingers in another lifetime. The billionaire who had disappeared without warning... and left her shattered. Their eyes met. Time didn’t slow. It stopped. “Elena?” His voice was a blend of confusion and command, low and smooth like aged whiskey. “You,” she breathed, barely audible, heart pounding like a warning drum in her chest. She had imagined this moment a hundred different ways. None of them had prepared her for the reality of standing before the man who had broken her heart—and who now held her future in his perfectly manicured hands. “I wasn’t aware we’d met,” he said, but there was a flicker in his eyes. A flicker she recognized. He was lying. He remembered. “Elena Cortez,” she said, stepping forward and offering the folder with a steely smile. “Interviewing for the executive assistant position.” A beat of silence. Then Jaxon took the folder from her hand, his fingers brushing hers—a spark like lightning arcing between them. “Let’s begin,” he said coolly, though his voice was strained. And just like that, the interview of a lifetime became a battle of buried secrets, unspoken truths, and the embers of a passion neither of them could extinguish. Elena lowered herself into the leather chair across from him, spine straight, hands resting lightly on her lap to hide the tremor in her fingers. She could feel his gaze on her, as heavy as it was unreadable. He had changed—grown sharper, colder. The boy she once knew had vanished, replaced by a man whose success echoed in the silence of this opulent office. Jaxon flipped open her file, skimming her résumé without saying a word. The ticking of the minimalist wall clock suddenly sounded deafening. Seconds stretched. The hum of the city outside dulled behind the thick glass. “I’m impressed,” he said finally, not looking up. “Top of your class at Columbia. Fluent in Spanish and French. Four years with Hudson Global Consulting, and a recent project manager role at Parkstone Holdings.” “I like a challenge,” Elena replied coolly. He closed the folder and looked up. “Do you?” His tone was a dare. Her lips curved slightly. “Yes.” Their eyes locked again. It was impossible to tell whether the heat between them was attraction or mutual resentment. Perhaps both. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled under his chin. “Tell me, Ms. Cortez... Why do you want this job?” She was ready for that question. Had rehearsed a professional, polished response in the mirror countless times. But all of that vanished when he said her name—when his voice wrapped around it like a memory. “I need a fresh start,” she said simply. “Somewhere I can grow. I’m not here to be comfortable. I’m here to rise.” Jaxon’s brow lifted, just slightly. “Most people want comfort. Stability.” “I want purpose.” He stared at her, and for a fleeting second, something flickered in his eyes. Regret? Recognition? She couldn’t tell. “Interesting,” he murmured, then stood abruptly and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window. “I built this company on purpose, Elena. On hard decisions. Risk. People think it’s just money and meetings and yachts in the south of France.” He turned his head slightly. “But it’s blood. Sacrifice. Silence.” Elena rose to her feet, her voice quiet but firm. “I know what sacrifice looks like, Mr. Duvall.” He turned fully, facing her again. “Do you?” His gaze pinned her. “Because the last time I saw you, Elena, you were—” He cut himself off. She tensed. Her heart was pounding now, not with anxiety but with buried rage. “The last time you saw me, you walked away. Don’t rewrite it.” He inhaled slowly, visibly steadying himself. “This is not the place—” “No,” she said, stepping forward. “It’s not. But you knew exactly who I was when I walked in here. So spare me the act.” Silence stretched between them, electric and raw. Then, to her shock, Jaxon’s lips curved into a faint smirk. “You haven’t changed.” “And you have,” she shot back. “But not for the better.” Another pause. Then he walked back to his desk and picked up the folder. “I need someone who won’t be afraid to challenge me,” he said. “Someone who can handle pressure, keep up with my schedule, and not crumble under the spotlight.” “I can do that,” she replied. “Even if it means late nights, personal tasks, discretion?” “Especially then.” He stared at her for another long moment. Then, he closed the folder and extended his hand. “You’re hired.” Elena blinked. “Just like that?” A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “You said you like a challenge. Consider this one.” She took his hand, firm and steady despite the storm of feelings inside her. As their hands touched, a memory flashed between them—laughter under streetlights, fingers brushing at a café, whispered promises in the dark. And then the fire. The scream. The betrayal. Elena released his hand quickly. “When do I start?” “Tomorrow morning,” he said, his expression unreadable. “Sharp.” She turned toward the door, her heels clicking like gunshots on the polished floor. Just as she reached for the handle, his voice stopped her. “Elena.” She froze. “I hope you’re still good at keeping secrets.” She didn’t look back. “I hope you’re still good at telling the truth.” Then she left the room—and the game began. The elevator doors slid shut, sealing Elena in a mirrored box of memories. Her reflection stared back—poised, composed, and lying through her teeth. Her heart was racing so fast she thought it might crash through her ribcage. She pressed a palm to her chest, trying to steady her breath as the elevator descended. Jaxon Duvall. Of all the men in Manhattan, it had to be him. The one man who had seen her at her most vulnerable... and walked away as if none of it had mattered. She should have said no. Should have walked out the moment she saw him. But instead, she had accepted the job. What are you doing, Elena? Her phone buzzed as she stepped out into the lobby. A text from her roommate and best friend, Maya. > Maya: Well?? Did you get it??? Elena didn’t reply. Not yet. Not until she could make sense of it herself. She walked briskly toward the exit, past the sleek marble walls, the chrome accents, the perfect glass that kept the world looking in—but never seeing what was really going on inside. Just like Jaxon. Once she reached the sidewalk, she gulped in the crisp air like she’d been holding her breath for years. The honking horns and murmur of pedestrians grounded her, but nothing could shake the truth. She wasn’t over him. And now she had to face him every single day. --- Flashback — Five Years Earlier The beach bonfire crackled, casting shadows across the sand. Jaxon’s arm was around her shoulders, warm and firm, his scent a mix of cedarwood and danger. Back then, his eyes were softer. His laugh real. “You’re going to change the world, Elena,” he whispered, brushing his lips against her temple. She turned to him, smiling in disbelief. “You barely know me.” “I know enough,” he said. “You think no one sees you, but I do.” She let herself believe him. Let herself dream. That night had been the last before everything burned—before the fire at the community center where they’d volunteered, before the lies, the silence, and the headlines that painted her father as a criminal. Before Jaxon vanished from her life without a single word. --- Present Day — Manhattan Elena stepped into the subway, gripping the rail as the train rumbled forward. Her stomach twisted with a dangerous mix of nerves and anticipation. Working for him would be walking a tightrope without a net. But maybe, just maybe, this was her chance to confront the past—and finally uncover the truth he’d buried. She remembered the look in his eyes when he said, “I hope you’re still good at keeping secrets.” What secret, Jaxon? What did you bury in the ashes of the life we once shared? She stared out the window as the city blurred by, her reflection wavering in the glass. Tomorrow, she would return to the lion’s den. Not as prey. But as a woman with her own secrets—and a fire that wouldn’t burn out again. By the time Elena reached her apartment, dusk had wrapped the city in a velvet shroud. Streetlights flickered on one by one, chasing away the shadows, but nothing could chase away the questions rising in her chest like a tide. Maya looked up from the couch as Elena walked in. “So? Did you get the job?” she asked, eyes wide with hope and curiosity. Elena nodded, dropping her bag by the door. “Yeah. I start tomorrow.” Maya shrieked and jumped up to hug her, but paused when she saw the look on Elena’s face. “Wait... You don’t look happy. What happened?” Elena sank onto the couch, pulling her knees close. “The CEO... it’s Jaxon.” Maya blinked. “As in your Jaxon?” “He’s not mine,” Elena replied, voice flat. “Not anymore.” “Whoa. And he just... hired you? After all that?” Elena stared at the coffee table, at the stack of bills she’d shoved aside that morning, at the framed photo of her parents when times were still good. “He remembered me. But he acted like it didn’t matter. Like the past was just... erased.” “And how do you feel?” Elena hesitated. Then, quietly: “Like this is the most dangerous decision I’ve ever made.” Maya frowned, sitting beside her. “Then why accept it?” “Because I need answers.” Elena’s voice trembled, but her eyes were steady. “And I’m not going to get them by running away.” There was a beat of silence. “Does he know what happened after he left?” Maya asked carefully. Elena shook her head. “No. And I don’t plan on telling him. Not yet.” She rose, walking to the window. The city glimmered below, alive with a million untold stories. Somewhere out there, Jaxon Duvall sat in his tower of steel and secrets, believing he held all the cards. But he didn’t know who she had become. Not yet. She placed a hand against the glass, her voice no more than a whisper. “Beneath your lies, Jaxon... I’ll find the truth.” The wind picked up outside, rattling the pane. A storm was coming. And Elena Cortez was no longer afraid of the fire.