Her Naughty Billionaire by C.L. Cruz

Author:C.L. Cruz [Cruz, C.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-10-10T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

Victor

Sunlight reflects off the cityscape, its dazzle muted by the tinted windows of my high-rise office at Thorn Enterprises. The papers sprawl across my desk, each one a testament to another conquest, another addition to my empire. But today, something else gnaws at my focus.

Claire steps in, her face betraying a trace of unease. She knows better than to disturb me without reason. "Sir, I think I've found what you've been looking for."

I look up, my thoughts momentarily derailed. "The tickets?"

She nods. "Yes, but there's a catch. They're in the possession of Gregory Danforth."

Danforth. The name sends a rush of memories through my mind—a deal gone sour, whispers of illicit transactions, secrets he'd rather stay buried.

A slow smile curves my lips. "Put him through."

Claire hesitates for a heartbeat, then nods, dialing the number.

The moment Danforth’s voice comes through, laced with a familiar arrogance, I cut to the chase. "I hear you have what I need."

"Thorn," he drawls, a note of amusement evident. "What could you possibly want with tickets to the Hopeful Futures Gala?"

“That’s none of your concern. Name your price.”

After a brief silence, Danforth throws down the gauntlet. “They’re not for sale.”

I pause, letting the silence stretch. "What if I told you that I know about your little venture in the Cayman Islands? The one that skirts just this side of legality?"

There's a sharp intake of breath on the other end. "You're bluffing."

"Am I?" I lean back in my chair, satisfaction coiling within. "Maybe the Financial Conduct Authority would be interested?"

There's a heavy pause. When Danforth finally speaks, the arrogance is gone, replaced by begrudging respect. "Fine. The tickets will be at your office by five."

"Good choice," I reply, hanging up.

I take a deep breath, the call with Danforth having taken less out of me than the one I'm about to make. Dialing the number for the Carter Family Foundation, I wait for her voice, the one that manages to intrigue and infuriate me simultaneously.

"Sophia Carter speaking."

The professionalism in her tone instantly sets me on edge. "Sophia," I begin, attempting to keep my voice even. "I've arranged something special for this evening."

“Victor?” she asks, momentarily taken aback.

“Who else would it be?”

Her sigh resonates through the phone. "Victor, we agreed on two public appearances per week. You can't just demand more of my time."

I roll my eyes, even though she can't see it. "This isn't for me. It's for you."

There's a beat of silence. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The words almost catch in my throat. Why am I doing this? It's not like me to deviate from the plan. "It's something I think you'll appreciate. A cause close to your heart."

Her suspicion is palpable. "And how do you know what's close to my heart?"

"The Hopeful Futures Gala," I say.

There's a moment of stunned silence. I can almost hear the cogs turning in her head, processing the gravity of what I've just shared. While the Carter Family Foundation does have its outreach to underprivileged youth, Hopeful Futures supports a broader range of programs.

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