Chased by the billionaire

Lena Carter's fingers hovered over the keyboard, her heart pounding in her chest. The cursor blinked on the screen, waiting for her final command.

Her breath was unsteady, but her mind was clear. She had worked for weeks on this exposé, gathering evidence, verifying sources, chasing leads that most reporters wouldn't dare to touch.

And now, it was time.

She hit publish.

A chill ran down her spine as she leaned back in her chair. The words were out there now, flashing across news feeds, spreading like wildfire.

"The Untouchable Billionaire: Damien Knight's Secret Deals Uncovered."

Her phone vibrated violently against the desk. First one notification, then another, and another. Within seconds, the article had gone viral. Comments poured in, emails flooded her inbox, and the website traffic counter skyrocketed.

She had done it.

She had exposed Damien Knight, the most powerful man in New York.

And God help her, she had just made an enemy out of him.

---

Across the city, inside a sleek, glass-walled skyscraper, Damien Knight read the article in silence.

He sat in his private office, the city skyline stretching endlessly beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. The room was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the screen in front of him.

He read each word carefully. Slowly.

Then he read them again.

His expression didn't change. His jaw remained set, his posture relaxed. But the sharp clench of his fist against the desk told a different story.

Ethan Graves, his most trusted associate, stood a few feet away, shifting uneasily. "Sir, the media's already running with it. If we don't act fast-"

"Find her," Damien said smoothly, not taking his eyes off the screen.

Ethan hesitated. "We could issue a statement, threaten legal action-"

"Find. Her."

Ethan exhaled sharply and gave a curt nod before leaving the office.

The moment the door shut, Damien leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin.

Lena Carter.

Her name rolled through his mind, unfamiliar yet now unforgettable.

She thought she had won. She thought she had exposed him.

She had no idea what kind of game she had just stepped into.

And she certainly had no idea who she had just provoked.

That would change soon.

Very soon.

Lena's pulse raced as she refreshed the article's page again. The number of shares kept climbing-tens of thousands of views within minutes.

Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for her coffee, only to realize it had long gone cold. Not that it mattered. The adrenaline pumping through her veins was enough to keep her awake for days.

She had done what no journalist had dared to do. She had called out Damien Knight, the billionaire who moved through the world like a phantom-untouchable, feared, respected, and dangerously powerful.

Most people worshipped him. Others feared him.

Lena?

She had just declared war on him.

Her phone buzzed again, snapping her out of her thoughts. Expecting another congratulatory message, she glanced at the screen.

Unknown Number.

Her stomach twisted.

She hesitated, thumb hovering over the answer button. Every instinct screamed at her to ignore it, but curiosity won.

She pressed the call button and lifted the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

For a moment, there was nothing. Just silence.

Then a deep, smooth voice spoke.

"Lena Carter."

A shiver ran down her spine.

She gripped the phone tighter. "Who is this?"

The voice didn't rush. It didn't need to.

"You know exactly who I am."

Damien Knight.

Her breath hitched, but she forced herself to sit up straighter. "Mr. Knight," she said, keeping her voice even. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

A low chuckle. Amused. Unbothered.

"You've been busy."

Her pulse pounded. "I'm a journalist. It's my job to uncover the truth."

"Truth?" His voice dipped lower, smoother, but laced with something far more dangerous. "That's an interesting way to describe what you've done."

Lena swallowed hard. "If you're calling to deny-"

"I'm not calling to deny anything." His tone was calm. Too calm. "I'm calling to let you know that you've just made the worst mistake of your life."

Her fingers tightened around the phone. "Threatening a journalist, Mr. Knight? That won't look very good in the follow-up article."

Another pause. Then, "I don't make threats, Lena. I make promises."

The call ended.

Lena lowered the phone, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.

The air in the room felt different now.

She had known there would be consequences. She had known Knight wouldn't take this lightly.

But hearing his voice, the controlled menace behind his words, made it real.

She glanced at her laptop screen, where her article was still open. The evidence was solid. Her sources were airtight. She had done everything right.

Hadn't she?

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard as doubt started to creep in.

Then, a sound made her freeze.

A car engine.

She turned her head toward the window, heart hammering. A sleek, black vehicle idled across the street. Tinted windows. No plates.

Watching.

Waiting.

Lena's breath caught in her throat.

Damien Knight wasn't just angry.

He was coming for her.