Chapter 3: The Billionaire’s Obsession
Katelyn jerked her face away from Vincent’s touch, her pulse betraying her with a traitorous skip. “I don’t need a knight in shining armor,” she said, turning toward her design sketches to hide the flush creeping up her neck.
Vincent’s low chuckle sent shivers down her spine. “Good. Because I’m more of a dark knight.”
Before she could retort, her assistant burst in, eyes wide. “Iris—uh—Mr. Laurent’s team just transferred the hundred million. Upfront.“
Katelyn’s pen froze mid-sketch. No one paid upfront in this industry.
Vincent prowled closer, his tailored suit straining over his shoulders as he braced both hands on her desk, caging her in. “Now that I’ve bought your time, Ms. Bailey,” he murmured, “tell me—what else are you hiding?”
Flashback – Three Years Earlier
“You’ll give up your career?” Neil had scoffed on their wedding night, loosening his tie with disinterest. “What career? Designing little dresses for rich brats?”
Katelyn had swallowed the sting, tucking away her acceptance letter from Paris’s top design institute. For love, she’d told herself.
Now, Vincent’s knowing gaze saw right through her. “The famous Iris vanishes three years ago, and coincidentally, Katelyn Bailey marries Neil Wheeler.” His thumb brushed the abandoned wedding band she’d tossed in the trash. “How… sacrificial of you.”
Katelyn snatched the ring back, her voice razor-sharp. “Careful, Mr. Laurent. Digging up my past might unearth things you don’t want seen.”
A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips. “Try me.”
Present – Neil’s Panic
Neil smashed his whiskey glass against the wall. “She was Iris this whole time?!”
Lise scowled at the news replaying Vincent’s gala footage—Katelyn dazzling in a gown worth millions, laughing at something the billionaire whispered in her ear. “So what? She’s still just—”
“Just?” Neil whirled on her. “Her last collection sold out in seconds! The Laurent deal makes her worth half a billion!” His phone buzzed with a notification:
[Medical Board Announcement] Dr. K. Bailey’s groundbreaking surgical technique receives international acclaim.
Lise paled. “Since when was she a doctor?!”
Neil’s stomach churned. He’d mocked Katelyn’s late-night “hobby” of reading medical journals. Now, his investment firm was crashing—the same firm Katelyn had quietly saved from bankruptcy last year using her hacking skills under a pseudonym.
How many faces does this woman have?
Midnight – Katelyn’s Penthouse
Vincent cornered her by the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city lights painting his sharp features in shadows. “Admit it,” he growled. “You’re enjoying watching him squirm.”
Katelyn sipped her wine, the scarlet liquid matching her smirk. “Would you believe me if I said no?”
He snatched the glass away, his other hand gripping her waist. “I’d call you a liar.” His breath ghosted over her lips. “But I like liars. Especially gorgeous, brilliant ones who play the long game.”
A knock interrupted them.
“Ms. Bailey?” Her assistant’s voice trembled through the door. “Neil Wheeler is downstairs. He’s, uh—crying.”
Vincent’s grip tightened possessively. “Shall I have security toss him into traffic?”
Katelyn traced his jawline, her smile sweet as poison. “No. Let him watch.”
Then she yanked Vincent down into a searing kiss.