DON'T FALL FOR THE ENEMY

CHAPTER 02

KILLIAN THORNE

I led her toward the bank of elevators, her hand small and cold in mine as a smirk formed across my lips.

She thought she was using me to escape her mother, but she had no idea she was walking right into a trap I had spent years building. I pressed the button for the penthouse floor, the elevator doors sliding shut and cutting off the noise of the gala, leaving us in a silence that felt annoyingly perfect.

"I have a private suite here," I said. "You can stay there until morning, or at least until the alcohol clears your head."

Elena didn't say a word, but she leaned back against the mirrored wall, her eyes fixed on the floor. She looked fragile in that silver dress, but I knew better than to trust the appearance of a Vancourt. I stepped closer, closing the distance until my body was practically touching her, and I saw her chest rise and fall with a sharp breath. She was terrified, but she was also curious, and I could see the way her gaze flickered up to my mouth before she looked away again.

A smirk touched my lips as I leaned one hand against the wall beside her head. "You're thinking about it, aren't you?"

She finally looked at me, her brow furrowing. "Thinking about what?"

"Kissing me," I said, my tone flat and direct.

She looked stunned, her lips parting as if she wanted to argue, but nothing came out. I watched her struggle with the impulse, her eyes searching mine through the slits of our masks. The elevator kept climbing, the numbers ticking up, but I didn't take my eyes off her. I wanted to see her give in to a man she didn't even know, just to prove how easy it would be to ruin her.

"I don't even know you," she whispered, but she didn't move away.

"You know enough," I countered, and I leaned in until my nose brushed against hers.

She cracked. Her hand reached up, fingers curling into the lapel of my suit jacket, and she pulled me down.

When our lips met, it immediately tasted like she had been carving for it for a very long time or rather, she hadn't kissed anyone before?

I smirked. That couldn't be possible, could it?

I'd never thought the eldest daughter of the Vancourt family was just as innocent.

She kissed me so desperately as I groaned low in my throat, my hands moving to her waist and pulling her flush against me until there wasn't a single inch of air between us. She was soft and warm, her body molding to mine in a way that made my blood burn, and for a second, I forgot why I was doing this.

I forgot about the corporate raid, I forgot about my father's death, and I forgot that I was supposed to hate her. I just wanted to feel her. I backed her into the corner of the elevator, my tongue tangling with hers while my hands mapped the curves of her hips. She made a small, choked sound into my mouth, her grip on my jacket tightening.

The elevator chimed, the doors sliding open to the penthouse, but we didn't stop.

I walked her backward out into the hallway, our mouths never losing contact, and I used my keycard to shove open the mahogany door of the suite.

The room was dark, but I didn't bother with the lights. I kicked the door shut and pressed her against it, my hands moving to the zipper of her dress. My heart was slamming against my ribs, and my skin felt like it was on fire. I wanted to take her right there. I wanted to mark her and claim her and strip away everything the Vancourts had given her.

But as my fingers touched the cold metal of the zipper, something stopped me.

I pulled back just an inch, looking down at her. Her mask had slipped away from her face, showing the flushed skin of her cheeks and the dazed look in her eyes. She looked completely vulnerable, completely at my mercy, and for the first time in my life, I felt a sharp, stinging hesitation.

I knew she wasn't just a girl. She was the enemy's daughter. She was the one I was going to use to destroy Victor Vancourt. If I took her now, while she was drunk and hurting, it would be easy, but it felt wrong in a way I couldn't explain. I had spent my life being ruthless, but this felt like something else.

I let go of the zipper and stepped back, my chest heaving.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her voice small and confused. She reached out for me, but I blocked her hand.

"Stay here, Elena," I said, my voice sounding cold. I was annoyed with myself, frustrated by the sudden pang of conscience that had no place in my plans. I turned away from her, walking toward the large floor-to-ceiling window. "There's a robe in the bathroom. Sleep it off."

"Killian?"

"Don't," I snapped, not turning around. I could hear her moving behind me, the sound of her heels clicking on the hardwood as she headed toward the bedroom. I waited until I heard the bathroom door click shut before I let out a long, jagged breath.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone, the screen glowing in the dark room. I had a missed call and a text from a number I knew by heart. My finger hovered over the screen for a moment before I hit redial.

The person on the other end picked up on the first ring. "Is it done? Did you get her away from them?"

I looked at the closed bedroom door, thinking about the woman inside who had no idea who I really was. I thought about the revenge I had waited twenty years for, and how close I was to finally seeing Victor Vancourt crawl.

"She's exactly where I want her," I said into the phone, my voice cold and empty.

"And the plan?"

I stared out at the New York skyline, the lights of the city looking like cold jewels.

"The plan hasn't changed," I replied, my eyes narrowing. "I’m going to marry her, and then I’m going to burn her world to the ground.”