Chasing the Billionaire’s Ex

The chandeliers burned like a thousand caught stars above the Palazzo di Veyron, but Isabella felt as if every eye in the room hid a knife behind its mask. She had told herself she would never cross paths with him again. Yet the moment she stepped inside, she could feel the pull like the air before she was here. The marble floor shone beneath her heels as she moved between couples in velvet and silk. Gold masks, black feathers, diamond-studded smiles. She fixed the silver half-mask over her face, hoping her hands did not show the tremble in her fingers. Tonight was going to be her win. A deal with the Veyron Foundation would push her company out of obscurity. She would be invincible. Safe. But safety was a fantasy, and she could already sense the ghost of Adrian somewhere in the hall. Her friend Lena’s voice snapped her back. “You’re pale. Are you sure you’re ready for this?” “I don’t have a choice,” Isabella whispered. “Everything I’ve worked for leads to tonight.” “Then breathe. He doesn’t own this room.” But Isabella wasn’t sure. In her mind, Adrian had always owned every room he entered. She lifted a champagne flute to her lips but tasted nothing. Laughter rang out, music swelled, a dance spun from silk and smoke. She walked toward the big stairs where the Veyron owner was meant to appear. Each step she took seemed to echo like a countdown. Halfway across the room, a tall figure in a black mask brushed past her. The smell of his collagen wood, light smoke hit her like a forgotten dream. She froze. A voice behind her mumbled, low and mocking. “Running already, Isabella?” She spun. Adrian stood only a breath away. His mask was black, basic, cut to sharpen the lines of his face. His eyes were the samestorm-gray, unreadable, but burning. “You shouldn’t be here,” she said. Her voice cracked like thin glass. “Neither should you. Yet here we are.” His mouth curled without warmth. “Three years vanish and you still look at me as if I might devour you.” “I came for business, not for you.” “Business?” His gaze flicked to the gold package in her hand, the contract proposal. “Or redemption?” She tightened her grip on the envelope. “Stay out of my way, Adrian.” He leaned closer, his words soft enough for only her to hear. “You walked away without an explanation. You think you can just walk back into my world and take what you need?” “I earned this. Every piece of it. You don’t get to poison it.” For a heartbeat, quite stretched between them. Music swirled, masks laughed, crystals trembled in chandeliers. Then his face shifted something like hurt, quickly hidden. “You still don’t know, do you?” he murmured. “Know what?” “That the contract you’re chasing tonight, the one that will make you untouchable, isn't just mine to give.” He tilted his head toward the stairs. “You’re walking into a trap.” Her stomach dropped. “You’re lying.” “Am I?” He stepped back. “Ask yourself why the Veyrons invited you, of all people. Ask yourself who signed the letter.” He disappeared into the crowd before she could answer, leaving only the echo of his words. She followed him through the press of people, her heart racing. “Adrian!” she hissed. “Don’t walk away.” He stopped at the edge of the terrace. Cold night air rushed in, smelling of salt and rain. Moonlight glinted on the lake beyond the house. He turned, mask glinting like a blade. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said again, softer this time. “They’ll ruin you if you sign.” “You’re not making sense. What are you talking about?” His gaze flicked past her shoulder. “Too late.” Footsteps. A man in a white mask approached the Veyron heir himself, smiling like a killer. “Signorina Rossi. We’re pleased you accepted our invitation.” Isabella faked a smile, trying to slow her breath. “An honor to be here, Signor Veyron.” Adrian’s jaw tightened. “You should leave,” he mumbled. “I’m not going anywhere,” she said. The son offered his arm. “Shall we discuss the contract in private?” Before she could speak, Adrian stepped between them. “She’s not signing anything tonight.” The heir’s smile sharpened. “And who are you to decide that?” Adrian’s voice dropped to a growl. “Someone who knows your family’s real business.” “Enough,” Isabella snapped. “Both of you. I can speak for myself.” She turned to her son. “Show me the contract.” He gave her a black box. The moment she opened it, the room tilted. It wasn’t a business deal. It was a written deal giving the Veyron Foundation rights to her entire firm, her work, her patents, her name for the next ten years. Her breath caught. “This isn’t what we discussed.” The heir shrugged. “Everything has a price.” She looked up at Adrian. His eyes told her he had known all along. He had tried to warn her. “You set me up,” she whispered. “I tried to stop you,” he said. Anger and fear warred inside her. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” “Would you have listened?” Behind them, the music changed to a darker beat. Guests whispered. Someone locked the deck doors. Isabella’s pulse roared in her ears. She stepped back. “What is this?” The heir smiled. “A negotiation.” Adrian moved closer, hiding her. “We’re leaving.” Guards arrived at the door, blocking the exit. Adrian’s hand brushed hersquick, exciting. “Trust me,” he mumbled. She jerked her hand away. “Why should I? You’re part of this world.” “I’m not the enemy tonight.” The heir lifted a glass. “Sign, and you leave unharmed. Refuse, and your job stops before it begins.” Isabella looked at the pen in the case. Her fingers shook. She had dreamed of this night as her win; now it felt like a noose closing around her throat. Adrian leaned in, voice urgent. “Walk away now. Please.” Her eyes burned. “You think walking away fixes everything? That’s what you did to me.” His jaw clenched. “I walked away to protect you.” “What?” she whispered. “Protect me from what?” From inside the hall, a scream cut through the music. Guests scattered. A chandelier swung wildly as if hit. The terrace doors burst open; smoke poured out. Adrian grabbed her arm. “Move!” She tried to pull free but the world melted into chaos alarms, yells, the smell of fire. Through the smoke, she spotted a dark figure on the balcony opposite, raising a camera, snapping photos of her and Adrian together. Adrian cursed under his breath. “They’re framing you.” “What are you talking about?” she cried. He pulled her toward a secret ladder at the edge of the deck. “If you want the truth, come with me now.” Her heart beat. “And if I don’t?” “Then everything you built dies tonight.” For a second she hesitated between the masked heir smirking through the smoke and Adrian’s raised hand. Lightning flashed over the lake. Somewhere in the house, glass broke. She looked into Adrian’s eyes, looking for any sign of the man she had once loved. And then, from somewhere deep in the castle, a gunshot cracked. The sound ripped through the night, silencing everything else. Guests screamed. Guards drew guns. Adrian’s grip on her arm tightened. “They’ve started,” he said grimly. “We’re out of time.” The gunshot echoed again. Isabella’s ears rang as she stared at Adrian’s hand reaching for hers. Smoke curled around them, covering faces and reasons alike. Somewhere in the chaos a voice shouted her name but it wasn’t Adrian’s. She had only a heartbeat to decide: run with the man who once broke her heart or stay and face whatever trap the Veyrons had sprung. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Which choice would destroy her faster?