MY BILLIONAIRE HUSBAND ISMY WORST ENEMY

Lena Carter woke to the sound of her phone buzzing insistently against the nightstand. She'd set three alarms, but her body had trained itself to wake before the first one. Six years of early mornings, late nights, and the constant hum of anxiety had rewired her internal clock. Sleep was a luxury she couldn't afford, and her body knew it. She reached for the phone, squinting at the screen. 6:47 AM. Three missed calls from her landlord. A text from her production manager saying the fabric shipment was delayed. Another text from Ava asking if she'd eaten dinner last night. Lena hadn't. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat there for a moment, letting the weight of the day settle onto her shoulders. The apartment was small—two bedrooms, one bathroom, a kitchen that doubled as a dining room—but it was hers. She'd fought for it, paid for it with money she'd earned, and refused to let anyone take it from her. But the overdue bills on her kitchen table were getting harder to ignore. She stood, pulled on a robe, and walked to the kitchen. The stack of envelopes sat where she'd left them, a small mountain of red ink and final notices. The electricity bill. The water bill. The rent reminder. And beneath them all, the newest arrival: an eviction notice for her office space. Thirty days, the letter said. Thirty days to vacate the premises or pay the outstanding balance in full. Lena stared at the letter for a long time. The office was more than just a space. It was the physical manifestation of everything she'd built since crawling out of the wreckage of her family's collapse. Carter & Co. wasn't just a company—it was her father's name, her legacy, her proof that the Carter family could survive anything. She couldn't lose it. She wouldn't. Her phone buzzed again. This time, it was Ava. "Hey, you're up early," Lena said, forcing brightness into her voice. "Couldn't sleep," Ava replied. "I kept thinking about the college thing." "What about it? You got in. That's amazing." "I know, but the tuition..." Ava's voice trailed off. "Lena, I can defer for a year. Get a job, help with—" "No." Lena's voice was sharper than she intended. She took a breath. "No, Ava. You're going to college in the fall. I'll figure out the money." "Lena—" "I said I'll figure it out. Trust me." The lie tasted bitter on her tongue, but she swallowed it down. Ava had sacrificed enough. Lena would sell everything she owned before she let her sister give up her future. They talked for a few more minutes—about classes, about Ava's part-time job at a café, about the weather in Pennsylvania where Ava was visiting their aunt. Lena kept her voice steady, hiding the panic that was slowly coiling in her chest. When she hung up, she allowed herself exactly five minutes to feel the fear. Then she got dressed. --- The Carter & Co. office was located in the Gallery District, a neighborhood that had once been the heart of Meridian City's arts scene. Now it was a strange mix of boutique shops, struggling galleries, and the occasional tech startup that had managed to squeeze into a converted warehouse. Lena's office was on the third floor of a building that had seen better decades. The elevator was temperamental, the heating was unreliable, and the windows leaked when it rained. But the rent was affordable—barely—and the space had character. Today, the character felt more like a curse. She climbed the stairs (the elevator was out of order again) and unlocked the door. The familiar smell of fabric and coffee greeted her, a small comfort in the chaos. Her team was already there: Maria, her production manager; Jenna, her marketing coordinator; and David, her part-time accountant. Three people who believed in her enough to work for salaries that were perpetually late. "Morning," Lena said, hanging her coat on the hook by the door. "Lena, you need to see this." Maria held out a tablet, her face grim. Lena took it. The screen showed an email from their largest supplier, terminating their contract effective immediately. The reason cited: "Non-payment of outstanding invoices." "I thought we had until the end of the month," Lena said quietly. "We did. They moved the deadline." Lena's jaw tightened. "Get them on the phone." Thirty minutes later, she'd made no progress. The supplier was firm. Their finance department had flagged Carter & Co. as a risk. Without payment in full—$87,000—they wouldn't resume shipments. $87,000. Lena had $12,000 in the business account. Her personal savings were already depleted. The eviction notice sat in her bag like a ticking bomb. She was running out of time. --- The rest of the day passed in a blur of phone calls, desperate negotiations, and mounting dread. By five o'clock, Lena had managed to secure a two-week extension from the supplier, but the eviction notice remained unresolved. She was packing up to leave when the courier arrived. "Lena Carter?" The young man held out a thick envelope. "Yes." "Sign here, please." She scribbled her signature and took the envelope. The courier vanished as quickly as he'd appeared. Lena turned the envelope over in her hands. It was heavy, made of expensive paper. The return address was simple: Blackstone Tower, Meridian City. Her heart stuttered. Blackstone. The name echoed through her memory, stirring up images she'd tried to bury. Her father's face on the news. Reporters shouting questions. Her mother crying in the kitchen. She opened the envelope with unsteady hands. Inside was a single sheet of paper, embossed with a black "B" at the top. The message was brief: Miss Carter, I would like to discuss a business opportunity with you. Please contact my office to arrange a meeting at your earliest convenience. Adrian Black CEO, Blackstone International Lena stared at the letter for a long time. Adrian Black. She knew the name, of course. Everyone in Meridian City knew the name. The youngest billionaire in the country. The Ice King of the financial district. A man so cold and ruthless that even his competitors spoke about him in hushed tones. Why would Adrian Black want to meet with her? The answer came to her immediately, and it made her stomach clench. My father. It was the only connection. The only reason a man like Adrian Black would reach out to a struggling business owner like Lena Carter. She should ignore it. She should tear up the letter and throw it away. But her hands wouldn't cooperate. Instead, she folded the letter carefully and slipped it into her bag. That night, Lena lay awake staring at the ceiling. The letter sat on her nightstand, a silent invitation to a world she'd spent six years trying to escape. Don't be stupid, she told herself. Nothing good comes from people like him. But even as she thought it, she knew she would call. She had to. Because if Adrian Black knew something about her father's downfall—if there was even a chance that the truth could finally emerge—then Lena would do whatever it took to uncover it. Even if it meant making a deal with the devil himself. She reached for her phone and dialed the number on the letter. A crisp, professional voice answered: "Blackstone International. How may I direct your call?" Lena took a deep breath. "I'd like to schedule a meeting with Adrian Black."