Billionaire's Perfect Revenge [18+]

ELEVEN

After twenty minutes of a long drive, dinner at a fancy waterfront restaurant with a view of the magnetic Manhattan bridge and two flutes of champagne later, Zara Fisher was a sight to behold. Her guards were down, her eyes shone brighter and her laugh was noisier. Yet every single thing about her was such a turn-on.

She was easily the most gorgeous woman I had ever seen in my life. So different from the women I was used to.

All the women I'd dated in the past had a selfish and ulterior motive to be with me. Publicity, money or simply sex. None of them wanted to be with me for me. They all had their own narcissistic reasons. Which, of course, I couldn't hold against them. Powerful people like me needed a good-looking face by their side. Not only for the sake of being accompanied to various balls and events that we needed to endure, but also, because after a hectic day of work, everyone needed a pleasant face to look at and a fine ass to fuck. It was a win-win for both parties. It was what I called a perfect business arrangement.

But Zara Fisher was creating a brand-new category for herself. She wasn't interested in fame, money or sex (well, the jury was still out on that one, but still). All she wanted was her damn home back. It's unfortunate that I couldn't give it to her, not without upsetting all the investors and other important parties engaged in the project. Not without disrespecting grandpa's last wish and proving myself of the same worth in his eyes as my egomaniacal father. A worth that was as good as having none. I couldn't do that to him. And I know it would probably break her heart. But I wouldn't have been a successful businessperson if I didn't have the courage to make some tough decisions. Including this one.

After that ridiculous argument with dad, which eventually led him to threaten me with a lawsuit, I was so fucking exhausted. All I wanted was to go home and sleep for hours. Dad always had that effect on him. Even though I always showed him a concrete front, the truth was that he was my father, and I always longed for him to care about me, approve of my actions, to admire me for my work. Sadly, he only saw me as an opponent and a person who was blocking his path to happiness. Nothing more and nothing less.

"So, you're saying that you broke up with Emma Lawrence just because she wore a green dress to a party? How does that make any sense?" she laughed; her cheeks flushed at how much she had been enjoying this conversation.

Turned out that Zara Fisher had a thing to learn about people's exes. Well, not exactly about the exes as a person per se, but the reasons people broke up for. She called it self-preservation. So that in the future, if she ever had a relationship with a man of her liking, she'd refrain herself from making the same damn mistakes. Perhaps she was the kind of person who not only learned from their own errors, but from others as well. And I'd be honest. It was a thought too refreshing. But that did nothing to explain this weird sensation in my chest caused by the thought of her being with another man. It felt wrong. For a reason that I couldn't fathom.

"Well, first off, there was a dress theme to consider, which was all black, by the way," I said with a grin, a flute of champagne in my hand as I explained what exactly happened and why Emma Lawrence, the famous celebrity, annoyed me enough to break things off the same night. "Secondly, I told her explicitly that I hated green with a passion. And yet, she disregarded my sentiments and walked down the red carpet next to me in that same awful dress. It was a disaster. The whole time she stood by my side, all I wanted was to throw up. All over her dress."