The Billionaire Secret Game

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her grip on the strap of her leather bag, her pulse racing with a mix of anticipation and nerves. This was it-the biggest o

arely legible after hours of revisions. Everyone wanted a piece of Damien-investors, co

"You sure you got the right address, miss? Ain't nobo

ficial letter embossed with the Lanc

"Damn. Guess you're

ant, just

tes loomed ahead, flanked by stone pillars with hidden cameras embedded within. The main house

stepped out into the cold drizzle, her heels clicking against the slick pavement. A

rried the effortless refinemen

dded. "T

is

med quiet luxury-Italian marble floors, abstract paintings that probably cost mo

rridor and gestured toward a set of doubl

ght in her stoma

open, she stepped

en's

n studied her from behind his desk, taking in the way she squared her shoulders, m

g his hands in front o

ooled her expression. "Mr. Lancaster, t

d smoothly. "I simply al

in her gaze-annoyance, maybe. Good. He

"I'll get straight to it. You've avoided the press for years, yet your company

l be the one to sati

lips. "I'm hoping you'

ter. Most reporters came in swinging, eager to pry into his

you truly want to know, Miss Lynchburg? The numbers

second. "I want to understand th

g in the air

long since buried. Most people saw him as a bank vault of power and influ

ke on h

red. "You assume th

ook away. "I

s ensuring no one got close enough to ask such questions. Becky Lynchbu

ecanter at his side, pouring

you trying to make this more in

nough to be unreadable.

er as she met his gaze head-on. "Then tell me

adline. She was looking for something real, and he wasn't sure whe