Chapter 2 The Mysterious Offer

The next evening, Liana stood outside Le Maison Rouge, one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city.

It was the kind of place where billionaires sealed deals over caviar and champagne, where business empires were made-or destroyed-over whispered conversations. A single glass of wine cost more than her entire grocery budget.

She wasn't dressed for this.

Her black dress was simple, professional, but lacked the designer labels that every other woman walking through those gilded doors flaunted. Her dark curls were tamed into a sleek ponytail, her makeup minimal-just enough to look presentable, but not extravagant.

But the moment she stepped inside, she felt out of place.

The maître d' barely glanced at her before nodding as if he'd been expecting her.

"Right this way, Ms. Carter."

She followed him through the lavish dining room, past tables set with hand-cut crystal, gold-plated flatware, and white-gloved waiters pouring wine from bottles older than she was. The air carried the subtle scent of wealth-cologne, aged whiskey, and quiet power.

At a private booth in the back, a man sat alone.

Killian Vaughn.

The billionaire CEO of Vaughn Enterprises

He was younger than she had imagined-mid-thirties, perhaps. Dark hair, sharp features, and a presence

that commanded the room without saying a word. His suit, custom-tailored to perfection, looked effortless, but it wasn't the wealth that struck her.

It was the intensity in his gaze.

He watched her approach with a stillness that felt almost predatory.

She'd written about him before-stories of hostile takeovers, of competitors who vanished overnight, of deals that never should have been possible. But now, she was face to face with the man himself.

And he had summoned her.

"Miss Carter," he greeted, his piercing blue eyes locking onto hers. "Please, sit."

Liana slid into the leather seat across from him, keeping her posture straight. If he thought he could intimidate her, he was wrong.

"So you do exist," she said dryly.

A flicker of amusement crossed his lips. "And you're as blunt as they say."

"They say a lot of things about me," she said, studying him. "Most of them aren't true."

Killian nodded as if he understood that better than anyone. "I imagine that's why you're here."

A waiter appeared pouring two glasses of Chateau Cheval Blanc wine, and it definitely cost more than her rent. Vaughn picked his up, swirling the liquid slowly, watching her over the rim of the glass and took a sip.

"I assume you have questions."

"Only about a thousand," Liana said.

"Then let's start with the most important one." He leaned forward slightly. "Are you going to accept my offer?"

He studied her like a predator gauging prey.

Liana let out a dry laugh. "You're kidding, right?"

His gaze darkened. "I never joke."

He continued, voice smooth yet commanding.

"You'll have exclusive access to my life. Unfiltered. Uncensored."

Liana raised an eyebrow. "Why me?"

A ghost of a smirk touched his lips. "Because you dig deeper than most. And because you're desperate."

Heat flushed through her, but she refused to react. "I don't work for rich men trying to rewrite their legacies."

Killian leaned forward slightly, invading her space just enough to make her pulse quicken.

"No, but you do work for survival. And right now, I'm your best option."

Her pride warred with reason.

Then he pulled out a folder, this one different from the NDA James Caldwell had shoved at her.

Inside? A summary of the contract.

She hesitated.

This was dangerous territory.

But what choice did she really have?

"You said I'd have full access," she said instead of answering. "You don't seem like a man who enjoys being questioned."

He smirked. "I'm not. But that's what makes this interesting."

His confidence was unshakable. He wasn't worried about what she might uncover.

Which meant either he had nothing to hide... or he was very, very good at keeping secrets.

A six-figure offer.

Liana's breath hitched.

It was more money than she'd ever seen.

Killian watched her reaction, his expression unreadable.

"The choice is yours, Miss Carter."

Her pulse pounded. This was dangerous. Unpredictable. A deal with the devil himself.

But what if Vaughn had secrets worth exposing?

Liana looked into his cold, unreadable eyes.

"I'll take the job," she said finally. "But I work alone. No PR team breathing down my neck."

Killian's smirk widened. "Agreed."

Two days later, Liana arrived at Vaughn Enterprises, a towering skyscraper in the heart of the city.

Inside, she was led to a sleek conference room where a 400-page contract waited for her.

Sitting across from her was Dorian Wolfe, Killian's personal lawyer. A silver-haired man with an expression as unreadable as Vaughn's.

"The NDA is airtight," Dorian said, flipping through the pages. "You disclose nothing about this project until it's published."

Liana expected that. "And the living arrangements?"

"You'll stay at Vaughn's estate for the duration of the project. You'll have access to files, interviews, and personal records. Everything you need."

That part still made her uneasy.

But she needed this job.

So she picked up the pen... and signed.

The Vaughn estate was nothing short of a fortress.

Liana stared up at the sprawling mansion as the black town car pulled through the gates. It was elegant but cold, surrounded by high walls and security cameras.

The butler, a man named Harris, greeted her at the door.

"Mr. Vaughn will see you in his study," he said, leading her inside.

The house was immaculate, sleek, modern, impersonal. No family photos. No signs of warmth. Just wealth and power in its purest form.

She was led to a massive study where Killian sat behind a mahogany desk.

"You're settling in?" he asked without looking up.

"Not exactly a cozy place," she said, scanning the shelves lined with first editions and security monitors.

Killian finally looked at her. "It's not meant to be."

His gaze was intense, calculated.

She set down her bag. "Where do we start?"

He gestured to a thick folder on the desk.

"My life," he said simply. "Everything you need is in here."

Liana reached for it-but just as her fingers touched the cover, a sharp knock echoed through the room.

Killian's expression darkened.

The door opened, and a woman stepped inside.

She was tall, striking, the kind of beauty that turned heads and commanded attention. Silky black hair cascaded down her back, framing sharp, high cheekbones and full lips painted in a shade of deep crimson. A blood-red gown hugged her curves, expensive jewelry glittering against her flawless skin.

But it wasn't just her appearance that made Liana's stomach tighten.

It was the way she carried herself-elegant, confident A woman accustomed to power.

And right now, her cold, dark gaze was locked onto Liana with undisguised hostility.

"Who the hell is she?" Celeste demanded, crossing her arms as she turned to Killian.

"She's writing my biography," Killian said evenly, not even looking up.

Celeste let out a low, humorless laugh. "Interesting."

She stepped forward, her gaze flicking over Liana, taking in every detail as if she were sizing her up.

"Does she know the last person who tried that... disappeared?"

Liana's breath caught.

But she didn't look away. She refused to show weakness.

Instead, she turned her attention to Killian, expecting some kind of denial-some indication that Celeste was exaggerating or playing mind games.

But Vaughn said nothing.

He simply watched.

Like he was waiting to see how Liana would react.