About

Adanna Obinna came for revenge. Her plan was simple destroy the son of the man who ruined her family. Take down his company. Break his heart. Leave nothing behind. But she didn't plan to fall for him. Ken Ibe wasn't supposed to be kind. Or charming. Or addictive. He wasn't supposed to fall for her either. Now the lines between love and vengeance are blurring, and Adana must choose between the revenge she's waited for all her life... or the man she was never supposed to love. Because in this game, someone has to lose and neither of them plays fair.

Chapter 1 The First Thread

The first time I saw him, he was standing alone on the rooftop of the Radisson Blu, the breeze smelled like a mess of car horns, sea salt, and rain that hadn't come yet.

He was staring at his reflection in the glass like he was trying to figure out who the hell that man was.

I looked at him with satisfaction perfect men like that restless, quiet, lost in a crowd they're the easiest to break down.

I turned away from the bar, lifting my glass of red wine, and made my way toward him.

My heels clicked softly on the rooftop tiles. I didn't rush. I knew how to walk, how to pause before I spoke, how to time a look so it asked the question without needing words.

He didn't notice me until my shadow touched his shoes.

"You don't like crowds?" I asked, my voice low and steady, curious but not pushy.

He didn't answer right away. His eyes were dark, sharp like he was scanning me the way you'd scan a blueprint, not a person. Finally, he said, "No."

I smiled. "Neither do I. They make people loud. Like they're desperate to prove they're real."

That made him look at me properly for the first time. I was wearing a simple black silk dress, sleeveless, nothing flashy. My makeup was minimal, but neat.

I'm someone used to being noticed, but I was never shocked when I wasn't. That was something I'd learned young. It was armor.

"And yet here we are," he said.

"Some rooms are worth the noise."

"Are you?"

I let my smile widen just a little.

"Depends who's asking."

He hesitated. Then held out his hand. "Ken."

I took it. "Adanna."

His hand was warm and strong. Not soft like the spoiled silver-spoon men I'd met at fancy events. He didn't feel like privilege. He felt like work. And that made things easier.

Because I wasn't here for some man who'd inherited his power.

I was here for the man trying to outrun the curse that came with it.

We talked for ten minutes, small things. London. Lagos. Art. Architecture.

The kind of talk that seems easy but is really a slow dance two predators feeling each other out.

When he stepped away to take a call, I let my face fall into shadow.

Alone, I pulled out my phone and opened a file I'd saved months ago:

Project IBE

Target: Kenechukwu Ibe

Objective: Get inside. Access his legal and financial empire. Destroy it from within.

A quick flash of thrill or maybe guilt ran through me. Then it was gone.

I looked up and caught him watching me from across the rooftop.

He wasn't smiling.

Neither was I.

After a few more charged encounters, Ken surprised everyone by making me his assistant. The whispers followed me everywhere, but I held my head high. I wouldn't let office gossip get in the way.

Working with him was electric. Sharp and tense. Days stretched into nights in that glass office. Our talks shifted from business to something heavier, something charged. Ken was strict and demanding, but sometimes his eyes stayed on me too long, his voice dropped too low, and his touch accidental or not set something between us on fire.

I proved I could keep up. I challenged him, matched his pace, and learned to read the little changes in his mood. Slowly, a rhythm formed quiet, unspoken, close. We became a team, tied together by ambition, secrets, and something darker something dangerous brewing just beneath the surface.