Inferno of the Heart: A Billionaire vs Begger Romance

Selene Voss hated three things: champagne towers, rich men, and the smell of desperation. Tonight, she was drowning in all three. The Van Horn Charity Gala glittered like a diamond casket. Crystal chandeliers dripped light over marble floors, and the air hummed with the clink of glasses and the shrill laughter of women dripping in jewels. Selene adjusted the starched collar of her maid uniform, her fingers brushing the fake name tag pinned to her chest: *Marie*. The polyester itched, but she’d endure worse for what lay beneath her skirt—a sleek black dress, pressed against her thigh like a promise. *Steal the necklace. Save Luna. Don’t get caught.* Her target sat three feet away: Mrs. Genevieve Van Horn, a septuagenarian socialite with a neck like a turkey and an emerald necklace worth more than the Brooklyn apartment Selene shared with her sister. The gemstones glinted under the lights, taunting her. *Two million dollars*. Enough to buy Luna a year of treatments. A year of breath. Selene grabbed a tray of champagne flutes, her hands steady despite the acid churning in her gut. She glided toward Mrs. Van Horn, past a senator snorting cocaine in the shadows and a tech mogul groping his assistant. “Champagne, madam?” she asked, her voice honeyed. Mrs. Van Horn didn’t glance up. “No,” she snapped, her jowls quivering as she gossiped with a woman in a feathered gown. *Perfect.* Selene’s fingers hovered near the necklace clasp. One flick— “—ship the jobs to Manila. Cheaper to dump the bodies there.” The voice sliced through the din. Smooth. Cold. *Familiar*. Selene froze. Across the room, Kael Archer leaned against the grand piano, a crystal glass dangling from his fingertips. The CEO of Archer Industries looked like he’d been carved from marble—sharp jaw, icy blue eyes, a smirk that could melt glaciers. And a soul, Selene bet, blacker than the espresso he sipped. The senator beside him chuckled. “The unions will riot.” Kael shrugged. “Let them. We’ll pay off the right people. Cheaper than keeping the factories here.” Selene’s vision blurred. *Mom’s face flashed in her mind—pale on a factory floor, Archer Group’s logo stamped on her bloodied ID badge.* *Breathe. Steal the necklace. Run.* But her feet moved toward Kael instead. “You’re killing people,” she hissed, low enough that only he heard. He turned, arching a brow. “Do I know you?” Up close, he smelled like sandalwood and arrogance. Selene’s nails bit into her palms. “No. But I know you’re a murderer.” His gaze raked her uniform. “Careful, darling.” His voice dropped, velvet and venom. “You’re embarrassing yourself.” The room tilted. Her mother’s laughter echoed in her ears. *You’ve got fire, Evie. Don’t let them snuff it out.* Selene’s hand flew out— ***Crack.*** The slap echoed like a gunshot. The orchestra screeched to a halt. Two hundred phones lit up, capturing Kael’s reddening cheek and Selene’s heaving chest. For a heartbeat, the world stopped. Then chaos erupted. “Security!” Mrs. Van Horn shrieked. Kael leaned in, his breath hot on Selene’s ear. “You’re dead.” She bolted. Champagne flutes shattered as she vaulted over a dessert table, macarons crunching under her heels. A guard lunged—she twisted, jabbing his pressure point. He crumpled with a grunt. *Thanks, Uncle Rico*, she thought grimly, recalling the self-defense lessons he’d drilled into her before he vanished. She ripped off the maid uniform, revealing the black dress beneath, and melted into the crowd. **Kael’s POV** She was good. Kael watched the girl disappear through a service exit, her dark hair a flicker in the chaos. His cheek throbbed, but he smiled. *Finally, something interesting.* A security guard rushed over. “Sir, we’ll find her—” “Don’t bother.” Kael straightened his cufflinks. “I’ll handle it myself.” He knelt, plucking the emerald necklace from the floor. She’d dropped it during the chase. The stones glinted in his palm, cold and cunning. *A thief with a conscience. How quaint.* His phone buzzed. A news alert blared: **“BILLIONAIRE SLAPPED BY MYSTERY MAID!”** The board would have a meltdown. Perfect. He pocketed the necklace. *Game on, little thief.* **Selene’s POV** Rain slashed Selene’s face as she stumbled into the alley behind her apartment. Luna’s coughs rattled through the open window above—wet, ragged, dying. She’d failed. No necklace. No money. No hope. Her knees buckled. The brick wall scraped her palms as she slumped against it, tears mixing with rain. *I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry, Lu—* A black limousine glided into the alley. The window rolled down. Kael Archer smirked at her from the shadows, the emerald necklace dangling from his fingers. “Let’s talk,” he said, “*Eva*.”