A deceit deal with the ruthless billionaire CEO

ide. Andrew's eyes roamed over her, his mouth forming a little sneer. "I told you it would be temporary," he replied, his voice low and calm, like if this was just another transaction, not

d be able to play this part. Victoria found herself at Andrew's office that night when the city's lights started to fade and the burden of the day's performance weighed over her like a thick fog. Though the penthouse had calmed and was late, her interest was insatiable. Knowing it was his territory, his shelter, she had avoided this area during the day. But now, she couldn't help herself with the prospect of solutions hovering in the air. Feeling the weight of the time, Victoria stepped to the desk and delicately brushed her fingers across the polished wood. Her focus shifted to the corner's file pile. The one marked Langston Harrington, which had earlier piqued her interest. She had to learn more. Deep breath in, she grabbed the file and her heart started to accelerate as she flipped through it. Papers. Records. Scattered documents rich with information on Andrew's estranged brother, Langston. The controversy that had almost ruined Andrew's standing. Still, there was something else. A handwritten letter hidden in the back of the file drew her attention. Reading the sentences slowly, her eyes growing wider with every line, she saw Langston was framed but the truth would ruin us all. She gasped. This was the end. The main element of the narrative she had been looking for. The sound of footsteps in the corridor, however, caused her to freeze first. Victoria's fingertips hovered above the pile of papers on Andrew's desk. Though she was aware she was crossing a line, the truth she sought was too alluring to overlook. Langston Harrington's name had been tormenting her for days; tonight, the need to find more had grown too great. Every page exposed more than she had anticipated as she combed through the papers, her heart racing. Notes, financial documents, letters; every item was like a jigsaw she had to finish. Reaching for a particularly thick file, she was stopped in her tracks by a gentle click behind her. She spun around. Standing in the doorway, Andrew's piercing blue eyes were slanted and his face was set in a mask of restrained rage. Tension crackled in the space between them. "You're snooping," he continued, his voice low but sharp with unmistakable rage. Stepping into the room, he fixed his stare on her, causing her stomach to turn. I told you about this. Victoria's pulse raced in her ears. "I wasn't snooping," she stuttered, attempting to collect her composure. "I, "You don't get to invade my past," he muttered, his voice growing colder and his jaw rigid with tension. He moved closer and his presence's strength appeared to drive her back, trapping her against the desk. Victoria's breath caught in her throat, so the world appeared to slow. The heat from his body, the raw intensity of his rage, it was like nothing she had ever experienced before. But there was also something more buried deep in his gaze that she couldn't really read. Neither of them moved for a time period. Their closeness was electric, a tempest of unspoken but evident feelings spinning between them. She gulped, attempting to overcome the strain. I'm only trying to get it. "Don't," he cut in forcefully. Victoria, this is not your concern. But as his look softened, even for a fraction of a second, she saw the suffering that remained there. Could it be regret? Shame? His voice was grim as he turned away from her.