Page 83 of My Big, Fat, Hot Billionaire Enemy
“Isn’t it?” He leans against the bar, swirling his glass. “Because from where I’m standing, the ‘Executioner’ looks suspiciously like a man falling head over heels for his supposed adversary. You’ve shifted your entire business strategy for her. You’re publicly defying your father for her. You’re wearing a tie that looks like it cost more than my first car, and you actually care how it looks. Everything points to ‘more than business’, my friend.”
“My strategy shift makes long term financial sense,” I counter, keeping my voice level despite the irritation crawling up my spine. “Defying my father is long overdue. And this tie was a gift.” Which is true. I just omit the part about the giver being Lucy, a thank you for the Hammond Tower incident, and I hadn’t ever planned on wearing the fucking thing untiltonight.
Dominic just smirks. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Executioner.”
The ride downtown is tense. Dominic keeps up his light needling, which I mostly ignore, staring out at the city lights blurring past. The stretch SUV limo feels ostentatious, but necessary tonight. It accommodates me, Dominic, and the essential members of our security details without looking like a rolling fortress. Elijah Reeves sits opposite me, looking like just another impassive executive in his tailored suit, but his eyes miss nothing. Maya Chen is beside him, scrolling through something on a tablet, easily passing for an associate handling last minute details. They blend. That’s their job. Tonight, blending is paramount. Beside them, Dominic’s own security detail blend equally well.
Victor isn’t driving; Marcus Bell is. He handles transportation security and defensive driving. Another layer of security for tonight. Victor will handle Lucy’s transport.
Wait. Shit. I changed the plan. Victor isn’t collecting her. We are.
I pull out my phone, check the text chain.
Victor will collect you at 7.
Fuck. My message from earlier. I never updated her. She’s expecting Victor, not this rolling command center.
“Problem?” Dominic asks, noticing my expression.
“Minor logistical oversight,” I mutter, texting Tatiana.Inform Ms. Hammond change of plans. We are collecting her directly. Now.
Too late. We’re already pulling up to her apartment building. She’s standing under the awning, a vision in emerald green silk that clings to her in waysthat should be illegal. She looks poised, stunning, and completely surprised to see this behemoth instead of my usual vehicle.
Reeves opens the door and I step out onto the pavement. Her eyes take in the SUV, then me, then Dominic leaning nonchalantly in the doorway.
“Change of plans?” she asks, her voice carefully neutral, though I see the flicker of confusion.
“Efficiency,” I reply curtly. “Consolidating transport.” I offer her my hand. Her fingers are cool against mine, sending an unwelcome jolt straight up my arm. She steps into the limo, her scent, that damn bergamot and jasmine perfume, momentarily overriding the smell of expensive leather and my own cologne.
I introduce Dominic. “May I present Dominic Rossi. Close friend and occasional business partner. He specializes in sustainable architectural innovations.”
She nods a polite greeting to Dominic. “Mr. Rossi.”
“And you must be Ms. Hammond,” Dominic replies smoothly. “I’ve heard so many good things. Looking quite radiant tonight.” Ever the charmer. I shoot him another glare.
Thankfully, he holds his tongue, and the ride to the gala venue is quiet.
Lucy stares out the window, seemingly lost in thought. I watch her reflection in the darkened glass. The curve of her neck. The determined set of her jaw.
Dominic was right.
This is more than business. It’s becoming… central.
This woman, who crashed into mymeticulously controlled world, is rapidly becoming the axis it spins around. And that terrifies me more than any market crash or hostile board meeting ever could.
The arrival is exactly the circus I expected.
Cameras flash. Voices murmur. Heads turn as Lucy and I step out together.
I feel the weight of dozens, hundreds, of eyes. Assessing. Calculating. Gossip igniting like wildfire through the crowd.
Let them look. Let them talk.
My hand finds the small of her back, a possessive gesture I don’t consciously plan. It feels… right. Anchoring.
Her skin is warm beneath the silk. She glances up at me, a question in her eyes, but she doesn’t pull away.
We move through the throng, Reeves and Chen flanking us at a discreet distance, blending seamlessly into the sea of tuxedos and designer gowns. Dominic follows with his own security detail, looking thoroughly entertained by the spectacle.
