MY BILLIONAIRE HUSBAND ISMY WORST ENEMY

The Name on the Letter

Lena didn't sleep that night.

She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the letter from Adrian Black resting on the nightstand like a live grenade. The name Blackstone echoed in her mind, stirring memories she'd spent years trying to bury.

When the first gray light of dawn crept through her window, she gave up on sleep entirely. She made coffee, burned her tongue on the first sip, and sat at her kitchen table with her laptop open.

The search results were endless.

Adrian Black: The Ice King of Meridian City

Blackstone International CEO Expands Empire in Aggressive Takeover

The Billionaire Who Never Loses: Adrian Black's Rise to Power

Lena clicked through article after article, building a picture of the man she'd agreed to meet. The public record was consistent: Adrian Black was brilliant, ruthless, and utterly without mercy. He'd taken control of Blackstone International at twenty-six after his father stepped down for "health reasons." Under his leadership, the company had grown exponentially, absorbing competitors and crushing anyone who stood in its way.

But there were other details, too. Fragments she pieced together from profiles and interviews.

His father, Richard Black, had built Blackstone into a powerhouse before his sudden retirement. His mother, Victoria, was a prominent socialite known for her elegance and sharp tongue. His younger half-brother, Ethan, was famous for his partying and charm—the opposite of Adrian in every way.

And then there was the fact that Adrian Black had never been married, never been publicly linked to anyone serious, and never smiled in any photograph Lena could find.

She stared at one image for a long time. It was a candid shot taken at a charity gala, showing Adrian standing alone near a window. He was looking away from the camera, his expression distant, his posture rigid. He looked less like a billionaire and more like a man carrying an invisible weight.

What are you hiding? she wondered.

She closed the laptop and pressed her palms against her eyes.

This is a bad idea.

She'd known it from the moment she opened the letter. Adrian Black was dangerous—not in the way of criminals or thugs, but in the way of men who wielded power like a weapon. He could crush her without a second thought, and they both knew it.

But the letter hadn't just been a business proposition. It had been an invitation to the truth.

And Lena had spent six years chasing the truth.

She picked up her phone and called her aunt.

Margaret Hayes answered on the third ring. "Lena? It's early. Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine." Lena hesitated, then pressed on. "Aunt Margaret, I need to ask you something."

"Of course, sweetheart. What is it?"

"What do you know about the Black family?"

The silence on the other end was immediate and heavy. When Margaret finally spoke, her voice was careful. "Why are you asking about the Blacks?"

"Because Adrian Black sent me a letter. He wants to meet with me."

More silence. Then: "Don't."

The word was sharp, almost desperate. "Lena, don't have anything to do with that family. They're dangerous."

"I know they're connected to Dad's case. I know Richard Black and Dad were business partners—"

"Who told you that?"

"No one. I found a photograph." Lena's voice tightened. "Richard Black and Dad, together. They looked like friends."

Margaret exhaled slowly. "I told you before. Your father trusted the wrong people. The Black family was the worst of them."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean they destroyed him, Lena. Not just his company. Not just his reputation. They destroyed him. And if you get involved with them, they'll do the same to you."

Lena closed her eyes. "Aunt Margaret, if you know something about what happened to Dad—"

"I know enough to know that nothing good comes from that family." Margaret's voice cracked. "Please, Lena. Stay away from them. For your own sake. For Ava's sake."

The mention of her sister made Lena's chest tighten. Ava. Sweet, trusting Ava, who had already lost both parents and deserved a future untainted by the past.

"You're right," Lena said quietly. "I should stay away."

"Promise me you will."

Lena didn't answer.

"Lena—"

"I'll think about it. I have to go."

She hung up before her aunt could push further.

---

The problem, of course, was that thinking about it was all she could do.

She went to work, but her mind was elsewhere. She sat through a meeting with her production manager, nodding along to discussions about fabric orders and shipping delays, but she heard none of it. She reviewed spreadsheets and signed documents and answered emails, but the words blurred together.

Adrian Black.

Richard Black.

Her father.

The connections were there, lurking just beneath the surface. If she could only reach them—

"Lena?"

She blinked. Maria was standing in her doorway, looking concerned.

"Sorry. What did you say?"

"I said Dana handed in her resignation."

Lena's stomach dropped. Dana was one of her most experienced employees—a designer who had been with Carter & Co. since the beginning.

"What? Why?"

"She got an offer from a bigger firm. Better pay, better benefits." Maria paused. "She said she's sorry."

Lena pressed her fingers against her temples. "When does she leave?"

"Two weeks."

Two weeks. Just enough time to add another crisis to the pile.

"I'll talk to her," Lena said. "Maybe I can convince her to stay."

But she knew it was futile. Dana deserved better than a company that couldn't guarantee next month's payroll. They all did.

---

By the time Lena left the office that evening, she was exhausted. Her feet ached, her head throbbed, and her stomach was growling from missed meals. She was reaching for her phone to order takeout when a courier appeared on the sidewalk in front of her.

"Lena Carter?"

She froze. "Yes?"

"Delivery for you." The courier held out another envelope—thick, expensive, with the same black "B" embossed on the corner.

Lena took it with unsteady hands. "Who sent this?"

"I'm just the messenger, ma'am." The courier tipped his cap and vanished into the evening crowd.

She opened the envelope right there on the sidewalk, her heart pounding.

Inside was a photograph.

Lena stared at it for a long moment, her breath catching in her throat. The image showed two men standing together at a formal event, their hands clasped in a friendly handshake. Both were smiling—genuine smiles, the kind shared between old friends.

One of them was her father.

The other was a man she didn't recognize. Dark hair, sharp features, an air of authority that radiated from the photograph.

She turned it over. On the back, in elegant script, someone had written a single name:

Richard Black.

Lena's blood ran cold.

Richard Black. Adrian's father.

Her father and Richard Black had known each other. Not just as business associates—as friends.

And now Richard Black's son was reaching out to her.

This isn't a coincidence, she thought. None of this is a coincidence.

She stood on the sidewalk, surrounded by the noise of the city, holding a photograph that felt like proof of something she didn't yet understand.

Then she pulled out her phone and dialed the number on the letter.

"Blackstone International. How may I direct your call?"

Lena took a deep breath.

"I'd like to schedule a meeting with Adrian Black. As soon as possible."