The Billionaire's Lucky Charm

Chapter Six: The Gift That Burns

Interlude

Flashback — Years Ago

The room reeked of incense and damp earth, thick with smoke curling like ghostly fingers through the air. Damon sat stiffly on the worn stool, hands resting on his thighs, trying not to show irritation.

The old man across from him was half-blind, his milky eyes disturbingly sharp. He moved like mist—slow, deliberate, as if drifting between worlds.

"You came for answers," the old man rasped, his voice brittle like dried leaves. “But answers come with a cost.”

“I’m not here for riddles,” Damon replied flatly. “Tell me what I need to know.”

The man’s head tilted, then he lifted something from the table — a tiny bowl filled with black water. He stirred it with a gnarled finger, then peered into the swirling surface.

Minutes passed.

Then, “You seek fortune. Power. Something lost.”

Damon’s expression darkened. “And?”

“You’ll find her,” the man said simply, a strange reverence in his tone, “The girl whose fate is tied to yours.”

He leaned forward, his breath cold despite the heat of the room. “She carries the star that bends fortune. Where she walks, wealth will follow. But only if she stays.”

Damon frowned. “Stays where?”

“With you,” the man whispered.

“Why?”

“Because her soul is old. Marked. The kind that alters fate just by being near. But be warned—”

The old man’s eyes suddenly turned sharp. “She is not yours to control. The moment you treat her like a possession, the star will burn instead of bless.”

Damon’s heart clenched.

“You’ll know her when you see her,” the old man added, voice fading. “She will feel like… destiny.”

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Back to Present — Damon’s POV

I stood in the shadows of my study. The seer’s voice echoed in my memory like an old scar aching in the cold.

*She is not yours to control. The moment you treat her like a possession, the star will burn instead of bless.*

The thought sent a shiver down my spine. At the time, I dismissed it as drunken nonsense. The kind of thing old men say to make themselves feel important. But now…

*Destiny. The girl. The warning.*

I clenched my jaw.

This wasn’t going to be simple anymore.

She wasn’t the naive girl I thought she’d be. She wasn’t like the others.

She didn’t weep. She didn’t beg. She questioned. She pushed. She walked straight into the lion’s den with her head held high. And worst of all—she found something she wasn’t meant to.

She was changing before my eyes—and the more I tried to contain her, the less control I had.

And part of me felt uneasy—not because I feared her. But because I couldn’t shake the feeling that she could also wreak havoc.

And maybe, just maybe... the old man was right.

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Celina’s POV

Morning came, but it brought no peace.

I sat up on the edge of the bed, same as I had last night, staring at the untouched tray of food that had long gone cold. My stomach turned with unease, not hunger.

I hadn’t slept, not really. My thoughts refused to quiet down. They kept circling back to the picture in that room, the hidden space, the way everything in this house seemed to breathe secrets.

And now… I was locked in. He knows.

The lock turning yesterday, the way the guards paced outside my door—It was a warning. A silent one, maybe.

What would Damon do now that he had found out?

A shiver ran down my spine—not from fear, exactly. From the anticipation of what might come next. And the strange, dangerous curiosity growing inside me.

I needed to get out.

Not just out of this room. Out of here. Before the walls closed in, before Damon did whatever it was he was planning.

But first… I had to know more. About him. About the reason I was really here.

I rose from the bed and crossed to the window, parting the curtain slightly. The estate stretched out before me—beautiful, orderly, and completely watched. A gilded cage.

Still, every cage has a crack. And I was going to find mine.

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Jace’s POV

I watched the two guards from a distance as they stood stiffly outside her door.

Good.

Still, something about this whole setup didn’t sit right.

Celina was many things—stubborn, secretive, unpredictable—but afraid? No. That girl had fire in her eyes even when she was standing alone in the dark.

And that fire… it wasn’t something I could easily ignore.

She reminded me of someone. Maybe a part of myself long buried under orders and loyalty. Or maybe just someone I couldn’t help but want to protect, even when I shouldn’t.

I exhaled slowly.

This job wasn’t about feelings. Just orders and loyalty.. Keeping the house secure. Keeping to Damon’s instructions.

Something told me that locking her up this wasn’t the end.

It was the spark.

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Celina’s POV

I tested the door again—still locked. Of course.

I pressed my ear to it—footsteps, low murmurs, the creak of shifting weight. Definitely guarded.

Damon knew and yet… he hadn’t confronted me. Not directly. Which meant I still had time. An escape route—narrow, but there.

Fine. If this was the game he wanted to play, I could play it too.

I backed away from the door slowly, crossing the room with quiet steps. My reflection stared back at me from the mirror, pale but sharp-eyed. I softened it, let my shoulders droop, let confusion settle across my features.

The girl in the mirror? Harmless. Fragile. A little lost.

Just how they needed me to look.

From now on, that’s who I’d be—on the outside.

Not a threat. Not a problem. Just a girl swept into a world too big for her, trying to adjust, too naive to question it.

Let them believe it. Let him believe it.

And while he did… I’d be watching. Listening. Learning every crack in these walls, every weak link in this house, and every piece of information that could help me escape.

Because one day soon, the locks would turn again. And I’d be ready.

Later that morning.

A soft knock tapped against the door before it creaked open. One of the maids entered—the maid from before, Nina. She moved at a careful pace, holding a tray of breakfast in her hands.

“Good morning, ma’am,” she said, eyes lowered as she set the tray on the table. “Mr Vale instructed that you're not allowed to go out.”

Of course he did.

This is the right time to put my plan into action. I thought to myself

I blinked slowly, letting my eyes stay wide and unfocused as I turned to her. “Is…is he mad at me?”

She hesitated. “I…I wouldn’t know, ma’am.”

I offered a small, uncertain smile. “I think I upset him... I didn’t mean to. It's just that everything is so overwhelming.”

Her shoulders eased slightly at my tone. “It’s a big house,” she agreed gently. “Easy to lose your way.”

I leaned forward. “Do you work in all the wings? Or only this side?”

She hesitated, then nodded. “Only this floor, ma’am.”

Perfect. Not too high up in the chain. Likely unaware of the full picture—but possibly able to give me a piece of it.

I let out a soft sigh, twisting the corner of my blanket. “I haven’t seen much of the house,” I said, casting my gaze down. “I…I think I took a wrong turn yesterday.”

Her eyes flickered, just for a second.

“You’re not in trouble,” she said quietly, glancing toward the door like someone might be listening. “Just…don’t go wandering again.”

That was all I needed to confirm it—she knew. Or guessed.

That was as close to a warning as I’d get.

I nodded like a good girl, offering a grateful smile. “I won’t.”

She picked up the tray cover and stepped away. “Someone will come to get the dishes in an hour.” And then, as if she hadn’t meant to, she added, “There are always eyes, ma’am. Even when the cameras go out.”

She left before I could ask anything more.

My plan had started. The role was set. And I was slowly learning who might talk… and who was truly watching.

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Jace’s POV

The surveillance room was quiet. Just me, the steady hum of the monitors, and the girl I couldn’t stop watching.

I leaned against the edge of the security room console, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the screen where Celina sat quietly on the edge of her bed. She hadn’t touched the food. Again.

I watched as she spoke to the maid—softly, her lips forming hesitant smiles, her fingers twisting her blanket like a nervous child. But her eyes… those eyes were focused. Calculating.

“She’s playing a game,” I muttered.

The maid left. Celina didn’t move for a long while.

I sat still and calm. Watching everything, and calculating her next move.

My fingers tapped against the side of the console as I leaned forward, eyes narrowing. She adjusted her hair, glanced around once, slowly, and then paused—just for a second—before she turned her gaze to the camera—straight into it. Like she knew.

Something tightened in my chest.

She was too brave for her own good.

I replayed the last thirty seconds, scanning her expression. That flicker in her eyes wasn’t fear. It was intent. That girl had a plan.

Damon had told me to report her every move to him.

I pulled out my phone and hesitated before dialing. Damon had told me not to disturb him unless it was urgent.

Was this urgent?

“Damn it,” I breathed. I typed instead:

Text to Damon: She’s acting quiet. But I don’t trust it. I think she's got something up her sleeves. Thought you should know.

My thumb hovered but from some reason I deleted the message.

Not yet. I’d been watching anyway. Because something about her didn’t sit right.

She wasn’t angry about being locked in. Wasn’t crying. Wasn’t yelling.

She was waiting. Thinking.

That bravery she carried… I didn’t know if it’d get her killed in this house—or change everything.

And for reasons I couldn’t explain, I hoped it was the second.

I leaned back in my chair, arms crossed, still staring at her. She stood now, walked slowly to the window, touched the glass like it might open if she wished hard enough. Then she turned around, climbed back into bed, and curled up.

“What are you up to?” I muttered under my breath.

Whatever she was planning, did she think she could pull it off unnoticed?

I’d be watching and waiting.

And if she tried anything?

I’d be the first to see it coming.