My mysterious billionaire

Chapter 5: Rivals

Emily’s POV

The door to my apartment clicked shut behind me, the sound echoing in the profound silence. I stood there for a long moment, my back pressed against the cool wood, as if I could physically barricade myself from the insanity I’d just willingly walked into.

Then, the dam broke.

I pushed away from the door, stumbled the few feet to my couch, and fell face-first into a cushion. A scream, muffled and raw, tore from my throat, swallowed by the feathers and fabric.

What have I done?

I rolled over, staring up at the water-stained ceiling of my apartment—a stark, brutal contrast to the pristine, sky-high opulence I’d just left.

I had signed a contract. A contract. To be a billionaire’s fake girlfriend.

I had slept with him. Slept with him! And I couldn’t even remember most of it! The humiliation was a live wire, sizzling under my skin.

At least if I could remember, I would feel better. I could even brag, but that was not the case. Was his d**k small? Is that why my body doesn’t hurt?

I sat up, pulling my knees to my chest. My phone buzzed in my purse. I fumbled for it, my heart lurching. It was Kevin.

Kevin: Well??? How did it go? Don’t leave me hanging, Em. The anticipation is killing me.

The guilt was instantaneous and crushing. Technically true, Jin had said. The interview was a success, just under embargo.

I could work with that lie. I’m sure Kevin will still be happy.

My fingers trembled as I typed back.

Me: It went… better than expected. Got the interview. He’s imposing a strict embargo on it though. Can’t talk details yet. Sorry!

I hit send before I could lose my nerve. The three little dots appeared immediately.

Kevin: YOU’RE KIDDING ME! YOU DID IT! Emily, this is HUGE! Don’t you dare apologize! Embargo schmembargo, we’ll wait! Drinks are on me when you can talk! So proud!

I started biting my fingernails. Tomorrow I have to face Kevin, and I’m still not sure what I’m going to say to him.

I threw my phone onto the couch as if it had burned me. Enough thinking, it was best if I caught some sleep. I changed into a worn-out university sweatshirt and yoga pants. I’m sure once I start pretending to be that guy’s girlfriend, I won’t be able to wear something like this.

I dropped back onto the couch, pulling a pillow over my face and letting out another long, stifled scream.

This wasn’t a rom-com. This was a disaster. A beautiful, terrifying, financially lucrative disaster.

The following morning, I made sure I was early. Absurdly, punishingly early. The office was a ghost town, the only sound the hum of the servers and the cleaning crew’s vacuum in the distance. I sat at my cubicle, the blank document on my screen mirroring the blank panic in my mind.

I couldn’t write about the Baek Jin interview because it didn’t exist. I couldn’t write about anything else because my brain was a scrambled mess of legal clauses and the memory of a man’s intense blue eyes.

I was typing nonsense, a sentence about the weather, when I heard Kevin’s office door open. His footsteps were brisk, purposeful, heading straight for me. My spine went rigid. He knows. He somehow knows.

“Emily. My office. Now.” His tone was neutral, but it sent a fresh jolt of terror through me.

I followed him, my heart thudding against my ribs. This was it. He’d seen through my lie. He was going to fire me, and I’d be left with nothing but a fake relationship and a mountain of guilt.

At least I will have lots of money. Perhaps I should have asked for more.

He closed the door behind us and gestured for me to sit. He didn’t go to his window; he sat opposite me, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

“I’ve been thinking about your embargo situation,” he started, and I held my breath. “It’s a pain, but it’s a high-class problem. It means you landed the big one.”

I managed a weak, shaky nod. “Yeah. A real pain.”

“So, since you’re in a holding pattern with the Baek piece,” he continued, a familiar, mischievous glint in his eye that usually preceded terrible, wonderful, stressful ideas, “I didn’t want you getting bored. I have another task for you.”

I blinked. Another task? “Kevin, I… I still have to actually write the Baek piece when the embargo lifts. Shouldn’t I be prepping for that?” The lie felt thick and clumsy on my tongue.

“Plenty of time,” he waved a dismissive hand. “This is time-sensitive. And since you’ve suddenly proven yourself to be a billionaire-whisperer…” He grinned.

My stomach dropped. This was not going to be good. “What is it?”

“I want you to interview Ilay von Oberhaus.”

I wanted to slap Kevin right there, but couldn’t because he would freaking fire me. First Jin, now Ilay. He was another titan in the tech world. The founder of Valkyrie Industries. Baek Jin’s most famous, most ruthless rival. Their competition wasn’t business; it was a personal, global cold war fought with patents and hostile takeovers.

I stared at Kevin, my mouth agape. “You cannot be serious.”

“Deadly serious,” he said, his grin widening. “You already interviewed one of them; you may have an idea of which angle to use this time. I don’t want anything regarding their business. I want something personal.”

He wants to give me a heart attack.

“Kevin, he’s… he’s impossible! At least Jin isn’t a Playboy!” He is, but Kevin won’t know about that. “If I go there, he is going to hit on me. Do you want news, or do you want a scandal?”

Kevin's grin only widened, as if I'd just presented him with the most delightful idea. "Emily, my dear, a little flirting from a German billionaire is a small price to pay for access. Use it! Charm him. Get the story. Von Oberhaus's personal life is a black box. His philanthropy, his infamous art collection, the rumors about his... particular tastes. That's the gold. Not another dry quote about market saturation."

I stared at him. “I’m going to sue you.”

Kevin leaned back. “Em, I wouldn’t trust you on this if I didn’t think you were capable. Even if Ilay hits on you, I’m sure you will put him in his place.”

If only he knew I just hooked up with Jin, he wouldn’t be praising me like this.

"This isn't a good idea," I insisted. I doubt that what happened with Jin will happen again, and if it does, I’m buying the freaking lottery. “You said it yourself, Ilay and Jin are rivals; if we publish something about his rival, Mr. Baek may back down on his offer to publish the article.”

Kevin quirked an eyebrow, his expression shifting from mischievous to scrutinizing. "Since when did you become so risk-averse? You just bagged the interview that no one could get. This is the momentum. You strike while the iron is hot." He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Unless there's a reason you're so hesitant about von Oberhaus that you're not telling me?"

Yeah, I slept with Jin and have to pretend to be his girlfriend. If he finds out I went there, he might lose his…

Wait a minute.

Why am I worrying about that? It’s not like I’m going on a blind date. This is work. I have to get my head out of the gutter. Kevin was right, this might be a good opportunity, and a pretty face would help with making Ilay talk.

"You're right," I said, my voice steady and clear. "I'm being ridiculous. It's a fantastic opportunity. The personal angle on von Oberhaus is untouched territory." A slow, calculated smile touched my lips. "And if a little charm is what it takes to get him to open up, then I suppose that's just good journalism."

Kevin's face broke into a triumphant grin. "That's my girl! I knew you'd see it. This is going to be epic. The one-two punch of the year: an exclusive with Baek Jin followed by an intimate profile of the man who wants to eat his lunch."

"Exactly," I said, the plan crystallizing in my mind. It was audacious. It was dangerous. But for the first time since I'd woken up in Jin's bed, I felt a surge of control. I was Emily the journalist again, not Emily the companion. "I'll get right on it. I'll use the Baek interview as my in. See if his competitive streak outweighs his reclusiveness."

"Perfect," Kevin said, clapping his hands together. "Now that's the hustler I know. Go get 'em."

I walked out of his office with a new purpose, my head held high. I settled back at my desk, the blank document on my screen no longer a taunt but a challenge. I pulled up everything I could find on Ilay von Oberhaus. His acquisitions, his charity galas, the whispered rumors about his private parties on his yacht.

Now that I had everything I could find on that man, it was time to call his office and ask for an interview. The thought of calling Jin and asking for this favor crossed my mind, but then that stupid clause of exclusivity came to my mind, and I decided to do things my own way.

They don’t have a reason to refuse an interview; the most they can do is give me only ten minutes because he is a busy man, but I could work with that.

Now the only thing I was missing was an outfit, and I knew who to call.