Synopsis: Trapped with a Ruthless Billionaire Leila Carter never expected to find herself trapped in a fake engagement with the most ruthless man she’s ever met—Adrian Blackwell, a billionaire known for his cold efficiency and ruthless control over everything in his life. But when a shared enemy threatens both of them, Adrian offers her an irresistible deal: pretend to be his fiancée and in return, he’ll ensure her safety. Adrian has built an empire by playing the long game, and this arrangement is just another calculated move. Leila is a means to an end, a pawn in a game of power and deception. Or at least, that’s what he tells himself. But the more time they spend together, the more she pushes back, challenges him, tempts him in ways he never saw coming. As their dangerous charade drags them deeper into a web of lies, betrayal, and simmering tension, their biggest threat isn’t just their enemies—it’s the undeniable pull between them. Because pretending to love someone is easy. Not falling for them? That’s the real challenge.
View MoreThe meeting was scheduled for midnight at one of Malcolm Gray’s private clubs downtown.Adrian had his reservations about Malcolm, but trust wasn’t what mattered.Leverage was.And right now, Malcolm held the upper hand.Leila perched on the edge of the couch in Adrian’s penthouse, observing him as he adjusted his suit jacket cuffs. His movements were controlled, precise, and careful, yet she could notice the tension in his jaw and how his fingers instinctively curled when he thought no one was watching.He was walking into this meeting fully aware that Malcolm would attempt to manipulate him in this meeting.Still, he was going.Because there was no other option.“You should stay here,” Adrian said without glancing at her.Leila rolled her eyes. “Not a chance.”He finally met her gaze. “Leila—”She crossed her arms defiantly. “I’m not going to just sit here waiting for your return. You can’t shut me out of this.”Adrian exhaled slowly.Connor, lounging against the wall, smirked. “She
The heaviness of Adrian's words hung between them, like a silent oath.I will end this.Leila was not oblivious; she understood what that meant.But the harshness in his voice was more than a threat of violence; it served as a caution.This wasn't a matter of justice.It was a fight for survival.Still, as Adrian gazed at his father's photograph, there was something more beneath his cold calculation. Something deeper.Something he wasn't saying.Leila's fingers curled into fists.Dante wasn’t merely making a move—he was dragging Adrian’s past into the present, and that changed everything.She took a slow breath. “What’s the plan?”Adrian’s jaw set. “You don’t need to worry about that.”She scoffed. “I think we’re past the point where you get to decide what I need to worry about.”Adrian’s eyes flickered to hers, sharp as a blade.For a moment, neither of them spoke.Then—A knock at the office door.Adrian let out a breath, his expression toughening again. “Come in.”The door opened,
As soon as Leila pulled away from Adrian, the atmosphere between them thickened. She still felt the lingering impression of his touch and the weight of his unsaid thoughts against her skin, but she forced herself to move away. Adrian had once again shut her out. Perhaps she should have expected it. But it didn't stop the frustration from burning inside her.She entered her room and closed the door, though sleep eluded her. Lying in bed, she stared at the ceiling, her mind racing with everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours.Dante Russo. Adrian’s father. Malcolm Gray.Fragments of a larger puzzle she struggled to piece together. What was evident was that Adrian was at its core—and now she was entangled, too. She let out a sharp breath and turned onto her side, trying to calm her thoughts.Morning would bring answers.At least, she hoped it would.The Next MorningLeila awoke to the persistent buzzing of her phone on the nightstand. With a groan, she rubbed her
The knock on the door broke the silence like a gunshot.Leila felt her heart race as she watched Adrian momentarily freeze—just enough to tell her that he wasn't expecting a visitor.Then, his demeanor changed.He regained control, adopting that calm, ruthless facade he always wore as armorWithout a word, he strode toward the door, his shoulders tense and movements purposeful.Leila reminded herself to breathe.The person outside wasn’t just some late-night guest.She could sense it.Felt it in a way. Adrian's entire body had stiffened.A Warning Leila crept to the edge of the room, positioning herself to see the door without being easily spotted. Her instincts urged her to brace for anything.Adrian unlocked the door and pulled it open with Sharp precision.A man stood before him.Dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, his salt-and-pepper hair neatly styled, he exuded an unmistakable authority. Unlike Adrian’s quiet menace, there was something in his piercing gaze that sent a chill d
As soon as Adrian disappeared into his office, the atmosphere in the penthouse changed. The lingering heat from their almost-kiss faded, leaving behind an oppressive silence.Leila remained in the kitchen's soft light, her heart still racing. She gripped the cool marble counter, trying to steady herself.They had crossed a boundary.Now, she was torn between wanting to forget it or to explore it further.With a sharp exhale, she forced herself into motion, grabbed the forgotten glass of water, took a sip, and then turned towards her room—determined to put distance between herself and the man who was gradually unraveling her.But then—A voice.Muffled yet sharp.Coming from behind Adrian's office door.Leila froze.Eavesdropping wasn't her nature, yet something about the fury in Adrian’s voice made her pause.She took a step closer.Then another.Each step drew her nearer to the cracked door, just enough for his words to slip through.“You don’t dictate how I deal with this,” Adrian g
Leila stood frozen in the elevator, lingering long after Adrian had walked away. The tension still clung to her, heavy and stifling, tightening around her as if in a vise. She needed to move, to shake off whatever this feeling was. Yet her body refused to respond. Because deep down, she was falling apart. Each moment spent with Adrian Blackwell blurred the lines between what was real and what was an act.His words echoed in her thoughts: "I don’t like feeling out of control, Leila." And neither did she.Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to step forward. The soft chime of the elevator doors closing behind her snapped her back to reality, but it did nothing to calm her racing heart.The penthouse was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the floor-to-ceiling windows that showcased the New York skyline. The city sparkled beyond the glass, stretching endlessly into the night.She half-expected Adrian to be there waiting. Instead, the space was empty. And somehow, tha
Leila had been in several dangerous situations before.She had faced ruthless businessmen, dealt with betrayal, and escaped confrontations that could have shattered her. However, standing beside Adrian Blackwell, posing to be his lover in front of the world, felt like the most dangerous thing she had ever done.Because this was no longer just about survival.It was about him.And the way he made her feel as if the ground beneath her was constantly shifting.The First Public AppearanceThe flashing lights were blinding.Cameras clicked rapidly; reporters shouted questions and the energy in the atmosphere was charged as Adrian stepped out of the sleek black car and offered his hand to Leila.She hesitated.Not from a lack of readiness, but because the moment she touched him, she knew that would change everything.His dark eyes met hers—calm but commanding. He didn’t speak or rush her, but there was a silent challenge in his look.Leila inhaled sharply and placed her hand in his.A mista
Leila had spent her life learning how to survive.She had never been one to succumb to pressure or wait for a man to rescue her. But as she stood in the world of Adrian Blackwell, with his enemies now targeting her, she understood that survival wasn’t solely about fighting.Sometimes, it was about knowing when to place trust.That realization frightened her more than anything else.Adrian’s name had always been spoken in shadows and whispers —a man too strong, too merciless, too unreachable. Yet, as she stood close to him, Leila could perceive the vulnerabilities beneath his tough exterior, the strain in his posture, the storm brewing in his dark gaze.“Dante Russo,” she repeated, bitterly tasting the name. “He came after me to get to you.”Adrian’s jaw clenched. “Yes.”Just one word. Flat. Controlled.Too controlled.Leila’s heart raced. “Why?”Adrian took a breath, ran a hand through his hair, and turned away to gaze out the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office. The city sprawled
Leila woke up to the rich scent of coffee.For a brief moment, she lost track of her surroundings. The bed was luxuriously soft, softer than anything she was used to and the cool sheets felt pleasant against her skin. A thin beam of morning light slipped through the blackout curtains, casting shadows on the modern sleek furniture.Then, the reality set in.She was in Adrian Blackwell’s penthouse.Memories from the previous night flooded her mind—the gunfire, the pain in her arm, and how Adrian had protected her with his body.And the way he had gently touched her afterward, his hands careful, his voice unusually soft.Leila sat up, rubbing a hand over her face.She needed to leave. She couldn't remain in his world any longer than necessary. The closer she got to Adrian, the more everything became complicated, and the more blurred the lines became.But as she moved, a sharp pain shot through her shoulder.Right. The wound.She glanced down, pulling back the sleeve of the T-shirt Adrian
The Carter Art Gallery's walls reeked of failure and old paint. Standing in the center of the empty room, Leila Carter clutched the eviction notice so firmly that it crumpled in her fist. The large windows let in sunlight, which left golden striations on the worn wooden floors. This gallery used to be the center of New York's affluent art scene, with its invaluable treasures and the subdued murmur of appreciation. All that remained was a dead, hollow shell. The legacy of her father was reduced to a last-minute deadline.Despite the pressure of reality, she forced herself to breathe. Before the gallery was seized and put up for auction to the highest bidder, she had precisely two weeks. And there was absolutely nothing she could do about it unless she miraculously summoned two million dollars. Leila felt sick to her stomach. She had tried everything. She had pleaded for loans from banks. Rejected. She had made contact with investors. Indifferent. She had looked into every possible ...
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