The billionaires addiction

The meeting

Chapter two

Caspian Montgomery was many things, but a forgiving man he was not. He sat cross-legged in the dimly lit room, the air thick with anticipation. Across from him, on a plush velvet chair, lay the very woman who had dared to defy him: Isabella Delmonte, or as he preferred to call her now, Anna Mae, as opposed to the alias she'd used during her moments of petty thievery. It had been a rude awakening for Caspian two years ago when she vanished with a hefty sum of his money and the prized sapphire necklace, a family heirloom. No one had ever double-crossed him, and he lived to tell the tale. The very thought in itself still fills him with rage, as if a life were lost.

His trusted operatives had finally tracked her down, with each passing month fueling his curiosity about the identity thief who had disappeared with the wind. The memory of her face was hazy, but her voice, a defiant rasp, echoed clearly in his mind. He'd dreamt of this day, the day he would finally exact his revenge—a slow and excruciating burn that would make her regret ever crossing him. After all, he was Caspian Montgomery, a name synonymous with power and ruthlessness. A sinister smile, as fleeting as a viper's strike, danced on his lips as he snapped his fingers, summoning his ever-present assistant, Anaf.

Anaf glided towards the bed where Anna Mae lay, his footsteps as silent as a stalking panther. A strange mix of emotions danced in his head—a begrudging respect and a pang of pity—warred within him. This young woman, barely out of her twenties, possessed a daring spirit that couldn't be denied. But did she know the monstrous game she'd just entered? Caspian, a man who craved pain and reveled in inflicting it, was a predator who enjoyed the slow t*****e of his prey.

Anna Mae jolted awake, a bloodcurdling scream tearing from her throat as a cold hand clamped onto her injured wrist. Disoriented and gasping for breath, she scanned the opulent surroundings. Gone was the familiar, dingy comfort of her apartment, replaced by a room that screamed luxury and wealth. Panic clawed at her throat as her eyes landed on the imposing figure shrouded in shadows. Recognition slammed into her like a physical blow that stole the breath from her lungs. The man from her nightmares, the one who haunted her every night, stood before her in all his chilling glory. She suddenly felt faint, her breath coming out in pangs as her head lulled to the side.

"Don't even think about fainting," a voice hissed, sending chills down her spine. It was a voice both smooth and powerful, like polished marble undercutting a hidden storm.

"I have something to say," she stammered, her voice cracking with fear. This was it, then. The reckoning. She stole from a billionaire—a colossal error in judgment—and here was her punishment.

"Enlighten me," Caspian purred, a dangerous edge lacing his voice.

"About the envelope," she blurted, clutching at straws, her eyes darting around the room, searching for an escape route. "I, uh, never meant to take it." A lie, born of a desperate hope for survival.

Caspian's response was a humorless chuckle devoid of warmth. "Intriguing. You see, Ms. Delmonte, or shall we say, Anna Mae, when I discovered the theft, I was... impressed." He loomed over her, his broad frame casting a suffocating shadow. He was a giant of a man, easily a foot taller than her, and his imposing presence filled the room with a tangible tension.

"Well," she bluffed, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace on her trembling lips. "I tend to have that effect on people." Inside, her mind raced, frantically searching for an escape plan, as her eyes caught sight of a window. The window. It was her only chance.

"What compensation do you offer?" Caspian's voice cut through her internal monologue. She knew, with a sickening certainty, that whatever the price was, it would be far beyond her means.

"My life?" she breathed, her voice barely a whisper. A flicker of amusement—crude and cold—danced in Caspian's eyes.

"Precisely," he confirmed, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his face. Anaf stiffened beside him, a flicker of recognition crossing his features. He knew that look, the glint in Caspian's eyes—the glint of a predator who had finally cornered his prey.

Anna Mae's bravado crumbled. A shaky laugh, tinged with desperation, escaped her lips. "You can't be serious!"

"Perhaps not," Caspian conceded, his voice a silken threat.

Relief, fleeting but real, washed over her. She looked around the unfamiliar room, searching for a semblance of comfort, but everything screamed wealth and a life far removed from her own.

A strangled gasp escaped Anna Mae's lips as realization hit her. "You are joking, right?" she said, her voice a hair's breadth from a desperate plea. Despite the terror simmering beneath the surface, a flicker of defiance sparked in her eyes.

Caspian's response was a slow, predatory smile that sent shivers down her spine. His voice, smooth as polished marble yet laced with a hidden threat, echoed in the opulent room. "Am I?" The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken possibilities.

Anna Mae, fueled by a sudden surge of adrenaline, attempted to regain control of the situation. "Oh, please," she scoffed, throwing him a look that belied the fear gnawing at her insides. "Even God didn't ask for our lives." It was a desperate attempt at bravado, a flimsy shield against the immense power this man held.

Rising shakily to her feet, she feigned nonchalance as she drifted towards the ornately framed window. Stealing a glance outside, she gauged the dizzying distance to the ground, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. There was no escape route, no hidden passage, just the cold, hard reality of her predicament.

Then, in a move that stunned everyone in the room, Anna Mae did the unthinkable. With a defiant yell that echoed through the opulent chamber, she launched herself towards the window. The world became a blur of movement as she crashed through the fragile glass, the sharp sting of pain a mere afterthought compared to the overwhelming desire for freedom.

Caspian and Anaf reacted with stunned silence. The sudden action, born out of sheer desperation, left them momentarily paralyzed. By the time they lunged toward the window, it was too late. Anna Mae was already plummeting towards the ground, a tiny figure amidst the manicured landscape below.

A low growl rumbled from Caspian's chest, the sound laced with a dangerous mix of anger and grudging admiration. He hadn't anticipated such a brazen act of defiance. This woman, this petty thief, was far more than he'd bargained for.

Anaf rushed towards the window, his face betraying a flicker of concern. "Mr. Thorne," he said, his voice tight with urgency. "We need to get down there!"

Caspian turned, his eyes gleaming with a cold fire. "Find her," he commanded, his voice a steely rasp. "And this time," he added, a predatory glint returning to his eyes, "make sure she doesn't disappear so easily."