THE BILLIONAIRE I SWORE TO DESTROY

The glass doors of Wilson International slowly closed with a soft sound, keeping Ivy inside the marble reception area surrounded by expensive Italian stones, expensive furniture, and decorations. It had taken six long years as she sat looking at a bright screen, her fingers moving quickly across the keyboard as she deleted Jude Wilson’s multi-million-pound contract and caused his stock prices to fall. Now she was walking straight into the enemy’s place, while her portfolio held something she could use against him. Her heels made a sharp sound against the floor with every step. Clack, clack, clack. Each footstep sounded through the glass building, reminding her how important this moment was. On the forty-second floor of the building, Ivy found it harder to breathe than she expected. The chief of staff was a woman who stood very straight and looked serious. She didn’t make Ivy feel welcome. Instead, she pointed toward the large wooden door with a neat fingernail. “Mr. Wilson will see you now. Don’t waste his time,” she said. Ivy remained calm as she arranged the collar of her dark gray jacket. Then she took a deep breath and walked through the door. The office was a large, dark room with dark glass and dark gray walls. The windows showed the city of Manhattan, where the buildings appeared dark and unclear because of the steady afternoon rain. At the far end of the room stood Jude Wilson. He didn’t turn around immediately. Instead, he stood by the large windows with his shoulders a little down. His navy suit fit closely around his wide shoulders. When he turned around, the room suddenly felt uncomfortable. Jude looked very different from the tired and stressed man in the old newspaper photos that had covered the walls six years ago. Six years had changed him. His jaw looked sharper, and gray hair had appeared around the side of his head. His eyes were dark blue like the color of the sea, and they were hard to look away from. Jude didn’t ask her to sit. He folded his arms across his chest and rested against the corner of his office desk. He looked at her so closely that she felt scared and could not move. “Miss Jones,” he said slowly in a deep and rough voice that filled the room and made Ivy’s stomach uncomfortable. “Your resume says you handled the problems at Sterling Industries very well. This is not Sterling. Wilson International is losing millions every week. Why should I trust an outsider to stop the losses?” “You shouldn’t,” Ivy said calmly, without any sign of fear in her voice. Jude raised his dark eyebrows, clearly surprised. Most jobseekers tried hard to impress him and gain his approval. Ivy moved closer. She placed her open hand flat on the cold desk, moving closer to him to see how he would react. “Trust has to be earned, Mr. Wilson. It isn’t given to someone right away when they start a new job. And right now, your PR team is trying to fix a serious problem with a simple solution. The public thinks your supply system is failing because of your executives’ poor skills. They are wrong. It is because someone inside this very building is secretly giving your company’s private information to the press little by little.” Ivy spoke with confidence. The room suddenly became quiet. Jude looked at her with dangerous eyes. Ivy's words left the room feeling uncomfortable. He had not told the press about the secret information—a main piece of information that was being secured and shared only with a few top executives. But here, this stranger had exposed everything wrong with his company without showing any emotion. “Go on,” Jude said quietly as he took a slow step closer. The strong scent of warm wood mixed with the smell of whiskey filled the air. It caught Ivy’s attention and made her uncomfortable. It was so strong that Ivy’s heart started beating fast. “Every time the company releases its financial report every three months, someone exposes the information,” Ivy continued. Her voice got lower because she was trying to ignore how close he was to her. “Which means the person exposing the information has access to the company’s top-level files. If you keep blaming others instead of fixing the real problem, the company could suffer serious losses before the year ends. You need a crisis manager who knows how to set a trap, catch the person exposing the information, and change the story before the board removes you from your position.” She stopped breathing, waiting for everything to go wrong. Jude didn’t move for three long, painful seconds. Then he slowly smiled in a dangerous way. It was dangerous, yet somehow very attractive. It was the smile of a man who was used to taking big risks in the business world. And right then, as Ivy looked into his dark, dangerous eyes, a cold fear filled her stomach. He is gorgeous. The thought suddenly shocked her, sending a sharp feeling through her body. She had spent two thousand nights preparing for her revenge. She remembered every news story that had damaged his father’s reputation and planned every step she would take to destroy his empire. She had prepared herself for his anger, his doubt, and his careful planning. But she wasn’t prepared for the way her skin reacted when he stood right next to her. She had to remind herself that she came here to destroy him, not fall in love with him. Revenge was not supposed to make her feel such a strong feeling through her body. Standing this close to him, she could feel the strong feeling of being near him. She realized the bitter truth: destroying a man from far away was easy. But standing so close to him, feeling his warm breath on her skin, made it much harder. It could break her completely. Jude finally spoke. He kept looking at her. “You start on Monday. Don’t disappoint me.” “I never do,” Ivy said in a low voice. She turned around and forced herself to walk toward the heavy double doors, trying her best to stay calm. Her heart was beating very fast. She reached out and grabbed the metal door handle. Her fingers vibrated a little because the handle was cold. “Miss Jones,” Jude called. Ivy suddenly stopped. She didn’t turn immediately. Instead, she took a slow and quiet breath. She made her face look calm and serious. Then she looked back over her shoulder. Jude was still standing by the side of the desk. He watched her leave with a serious, uncomfortable look. His long fingers slowly tapped his upper leg. He moved his head and looked at her carefully. It looked like he was trying to figure out what happened in the past six years. “Have we met before?” Jude asked. Ivy stopped breathing. For six years, she had prepared for this moment. But she had never prepared for Jude to remember her.