Billionaire's Sweet Revenge

Elena

I tip back my vodka mixer and order a second one, ignoring the bartender's attempts to flirt with me. Thank goodness for the horrendous pounding music that drowns him out. I'm in no mood to socialize tonight, as usual. I shouldn't have gone out at all, but I figured I should celebrate my 23rd birthday somehow.

The bartender hands me my drink, and I try to resist the urge to finish it in one gulp. I learned the hard way that liquor won't numb the emptiness and the worry I constantly feel. If it did, I would no doubt have become a raging alcoholic two years ago. It still gives me a pleasant buzz though, and tonight I'll settle for that.

I smile apologetically at the bartender who keeps glancing at me and turn away, my eyes roaming over the dance floor. It doesn't take me long to find the girls I came with. We all work at the same diner, and when they found out it was my birthday, they insisted that I join them tonight. I should've said no, like I always do. I feel like the odd one out, but I just can't get myself to care about who has a crush on who. I want to be as carefree as they are, just for one night, but I'm failing miserably.

I sip my drink as I navigate through the crowd of people and flashing lights, hating that I can barely even hear my own thoughts. Even worse, the bass is so loud that it's almost like I can feel it against my skin. I definitely won't feel my phone buzz if it rings, and the mere thought of that sends a jitter of anxiety running down my spine.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I make it to the rooftop. The warm air relaxes me and I inhale deeply as I weave through the throng of smokers and tables, toward my favorite hidden spot in the corner of the bar. Hardly anyone ever comes here, and on the odd occasion I try to act my age and go out, I end up finding myself here. The small hidden seating area is usually empty, but much to my dismay, tonight it isn't.

I grimace at the back of the guy who's sitting in my favorite seat. His broad shoulders and his obviously expensive tailored suit tell me he's probably a major douchebag. Exactly the type of guy I want to avoid tonight-or any night, really.

He tenses as though he feels me glaring at the back of his head. Then he turns around... and I'm certain my heart just stops.

"Alexander?" I say, his name leaving my lips before I realize it.

Our eyes meet, and my breath catches. To me, it feels like the world around us stills, but there's no recognition in his eyes.

Alexander looks at me in confusion at the sound of his name. He smiles politely, a questioning look on his face.

It's not surprising that he doesn't recognize me. After all, I've changed a lot since I was fifteen, in more ways than just physical. My entire life has changed. I'm far from his little brother's carefree friend.

A brief pang of hurt courses through me at the thought of Lucian, my childhood friend and Alexander's younger brother. Luce is yet another person I lost when my father remarried, another part of a past life, a world I no longer belong in.

My eyes roam over Alexander, his sharp cheekbones, his thick dark brown hair, and those dark green eyes that have always captivated me. He's as handsome as ever, and he has no clue who I am.

It's better that way, anyway. I'm no longer merely an acquaintance. No... now he'll just see me as Matthew's younger sister. It won't matter to Alexander that I don't even speak to my brother anymore-I'll still be a reminder of the guy that stole his fiancée and severely damaged his company at the same time.

Alexander's eyes wander over my body, and I'm secretly thrilled to see the appreciation in them. Suddenly, I'm glad I let the girls pick my outfit for me. The emerald mini dress I'm wearing hugs my every curve and I feel amazing in it. The last time he saw me I was fifteen, grossly overweight, bangs covering half my face. The glasses and braces didn't help either. It's no wonder he doesn't recognize me.

Alexander smiles at me, and the look in his eyes can only be described as flirtatious. It's crazy how he can still turn my world upside down. He's always had that power over me, and he never realized it.

Before I can overthink it, I approach Alexander and take the seat next to him, my heart beating wildly.

"I don't think we've met. Surely, I would've remembered meeting a woman like you," he says, leaning back in his seat. The line is incredibly cheesy, but I still almost swoon. Alexander grins at me, and this relaxed, flirtatious side of him surprises me. The Alexander I knew was always stressed and overworked.

I neither confirm nor deny his statement. Instead, I smile at him and shake my head. "You've been in the news quite a lot over the last few years. It's almost impossible not to hear abouttheAlexander Kennedy, the heir to one of the world's biggest conglomerates. I'm pretty sure I saw a tabloid reporting that you went to the supermarket the other day. If I were you, I'd go around buying weird things such as a cucumber and some lube, just to throw the reporters for a loop."

Alexander looks perplexed, and then he laughs. It's the type of laugh that sends butterflies to my stomach. It's a deep, body shaking kind of laugh. I can't help but giggle too. He looks at me with interest and shakes his head.

I no longer belong in his world. Alexander isn't someone I ever expected to see again. This... this is all I'll ever have of him. Stolen moments. I'll take them, and I'll put them under lock and key, to be treasured, to brighten my darkest days. If this is all I'll have of him, I'm going to make it count.

Alexander

Her eyes... they have me captivated. The swirls of green amidst the light brown; they're beautiful, and vaguely familiar. The girl sitting next to me is stunning in a timeless way, and she's got me enthralled. I take in her ridiculously long lashes, her high cheekbones, and that luscious long hair. She's a classic beauty, unlike the plastic girls I'm usually surrounded with. None of that bullshit, the fake-everything, fake nails, fake lashes, fake hair, fake lips. I'm tired of it. This girl... she's real, and she might very well be the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

She seems nervous as she sits down next to me, her fingers pulling on the hem of her dress, as though she's uncomfortable in that sexy dress that she's wearing. She has no reason to be. She's sexy as fuck without compromising on the classiness she oozes. She looks up, and when her eyes find mine, she's got me spellbound.

"You have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, yet, I don't know yours."

Her eyes widen ever so slightly, as though the question surprises her, and I'm intrigued. She seems so out of place here, yet her gaze is filled with an unspoken challenge.

"Diana," she murmurs, her voice wavering. She bites down on her lip, and my eyes follow her every move. I swallow hard as I wonder what those lips of hers will taste like. I have a feeling that stealing a kiss from Diana isn't going to be easy.

"Hmm, Goddess of the Hunt. What is it you're hunting tonight, Diana?" I ask, my tone teasing. She smiles, amused at the cheesy line.

"Honestly, just a bit of peace and quiet."

I raise my brows, my eyes roaming over her face. Yeah, I can see that. Every other woman I speak to is after something, but not Diana. If anything, she seems annoyed to find this seat occupied.

"So, you're on the run?"

Diana shrugs, but I catch a glimpse of sorrow in her eyes before she looks away. "Aren't you too? Otherwise, you wouldn't be in my seat."

I look down at my legs with a smile on my face, as if to verify that I am, in fact, in her seat. "Your seat, huh? Does that mean I'll find you here next time?"

Diana smiles and shakes her head. "No. I don't come here that often. But yes, when I do come to Inferno, I usually end up here."

I grin and nod at her. "Noted." I already know this is the first place I'll be going every single time I come here from now on, just in case I'll find her here.

"What is ityou'rerunning away from tonight?" she asks.

I sigh, my mind flashing back to the countless tasks waiting for me; my mother's endless demands, my grandfather's ridiculous requirement formarriagebefore he'll let me take over the company that I've worked myself to the bone for.

"Responsibility," I murmur.

Diana nods and looks away, as though she somehow understands, when there is no way she could. I see the cheap worn shoes, the rough unpolished nails. Diana is one of the lucky ones, the ones that think money solves everything when more often than not, they have the sort of happiness I can only dream of. A happy family, a fulfilling life, dreams of their own, a path of their own choosing.

"Since we're both on the run... let's run from negativity. Tell me three good things that happened to you today?" she asks, startling me out of my thoughts.

I stare at her, my eyes widening. That question... it sounds familiar, yet I can't place it. It feels nostalgic somehow, something from my childhood, maybe? I smile at her and shake the thoughts away.

"Well, I finally closed a deal I've been working on for months. I took my mom out for our weekly lunch date today and we managed to have a good talk... and I met you."

Diana smiles, but her eyes tell a different story. A story of understanding tinged with longing. She looks down at her lap and nods.

"Hmm, sounds like a perfect day," she murmurs as I finish my champagne. A waiter appears seemingly out of nowhere to top up my glass, startling both of us. I hand Diana a glass of champagne, and she smiles at me.

"Being Alexander Kennedy certainly does have its perks," she says. "I've never had anyone come take my order here," she adds, nudging me with her shoulder.

I chuckle, I can't help it. She's not pretentious, like so many others. I've gotten so used to the entitlement that surrounds me that her relaxed attitude surprises me.

Diana and I stare at the Manhattan skyline, both of us perfectly comfortable. I can't even remember the last time I sat next to a woman that didn't chat my ear off, and I'm finding this oddly peaceful, despite the noise surrounding us.

"Hey, if you could have one wish, what would it be?" Diana asks, surprising me yet again.

I stare at her blankly. "I have to admit that no one has ever asked me that question before."

She laughs, her face tipped up, her eyes on the stars in the sky. She's beautiful, and she looks so incredibly sweet. Far too sweet for a man like me.

"That isn't an answer," she says. "You're not getting out of this one."

I laugh and take a big swig of my champagne, lost in thought for a moment. "I'd wish for genuine happiness, Diana," I tell her honestly. For a while, I thought I had the happiness I craved, but I was proven wrong. I shake my head, feeling lost for just a single moment. "What about you?" I ask, my voice soft.

She smiles, but her smile is bittersweet. "Health," she says. "Good health for everyone I love."

Health. Money can buy almost anything, but it can't buy good health. Even if she were to ask me for something like so many other women brazenly do, this isn't something I can give her.

I sigh and lean back in my seat, my eyes tracing over her. "Since we're both running from something, why don't we run together? At least for tonight."

I offer her my hand, and she takes it. I pull Diana to her feet, and she stumbles in her high heels. I catch her, my hands on her waist.

"Care for a dance, Diana?"

She laughs, and the sound courses through my body as she leans back in my arms. "Here?" she asks, looking around the tiny area we're hiding out in.

"Why not?"

I pull her closer until I've got her body flush against mine. She fits against me perfectly.

Diana and I sway to an old Ed Sheeran song, both of us humming along. I can't remember the last time I found myself smiling, doing something this silly. I can't remember the last time a woman actually made my heart race without being on her knees in front of me. Diana... she's something special."God, we both can't dance for shit," Diana says, laughing as I twirl her around again. She giggles when I pull her back to me, her arms moving to my neck.

"We? Speak for yourself, lady.I'mkilling it," I say, swaying my hips badly out of tune. Diana bursts out laughing, and I drop my forehead to hers, enjoying this moment with her. When was the last time I laughed like this? I didn't even plan on coming here tonight, but damn, I'm glad I did.

My hands move to her waist, and I pull her closer until I've got every inch of her body flush against mine. She looks up at me, a sweet smile on her face. I look into her eyes, unable to shake the feeling that I've seen these eyes before, yet, they're perfectly unique.

"Are you sure we've never met before?" I ask her, my eyes falling to her lips.

She smiles and pushes away from me a little. "I thought you said you'd definitely remember me if we had?"

I take a step closer to her, bridging the distance she just created. Her hands move back to my neck while mine roam over her body, settling on her hips.

"Yeah, I definitely wouldn't forget you, Diana."

I lean in and brush my nose against hers before moving away again. "I'd like to ask you if you want to get out of here, but your phone has been ringing non-stop. It seems quite urgent," I say, tipping my head toward the table behind us. Diana turns around to find her phone screen lit up, and the look in her eyes can only be described as dread.

I let go of her as she checks her missed calls, and my heart sinks when she smiles at me apologetically.

"I need to go," she says, her voice breaking.

"At least give me your number."

Diana shakes her head, flustered. "I don't think that's a good idea, Alec. But it was good to see you. I'm glad you're doing well."

I freeze and stare at her in disbelief. Less than a handful of people call me Alec, and never in public. She'd have to be close to my family to know my nickname. "What did you call me?" I ask, anger running through my veins.

"I'm sorry. I have to go," she says, her voice tinged with regret. She grabs her phone and purse before dashing past me.

I'm tempted to follow her and demand an explanation.

But I don't.

Elena

The nurse that usually takes care of my mother greets me warmly as I walk into her hospital room. "Happy birthday, sweetie. I wish we didn't have to call you tonight. You deserve to act your age every once in a while, but you know what Dr. Johnson is like."

"Thank you, June," I say, trying my best to smile at her as I sit down next to my mother.

Dr. Johnson doesn't believe in keeping my mother here when he could be using her bed for a patient that he might be able to save, but he can't turn me away either. Not while I'm still able to pay the bills.

Eight years. My mother has been in a coma for eight years now, and I'm the only one who still believes she'll wake up one day. I can't help but feel like it's a race against the clock. It's become a question of what will run out first, the money that keeps her alive, or my mother's remaining health.

The doctor walks into the room and nods at me. I don't think I've ever seen the man smile. "Dr. Johnson," I say, nodding back.

"I have some difficult news to share with you," he says, a grave expression on his face. I close my eyes, not wishing to hear it. Whatever it is, it can't be good.

"Your mother has an infection. It's getting harder and harder to keep her state from deteriorating. There are many costs associated with the ongoing infections, too."

I nod, knowing what he's going to say. "I understand, doctor. But I'm not willing to give up on my mother. I still believe she's going to wake up. I'll pay whatever I need to keep her alive."

Dr. Johnson nods, and I hate the pity I see in his eyes. It's obvious he doesn't believe she'll ever wake up again, and I wish I could change my mother's doctor. I want her to be treated by someone who believes in her recovery as much as I do.

"Please sign here. I'll send you the bill. It's higher this month by a couple of thousand dollars," he says eventually.

I sign the forms, authorizing her treatment and the associated costs, my eyes falling closed in resignation the second I lift the pen off the paper.

I'm relieved when I hear Dr. Johnson close the door behind him. Five thousand dollars. A few years ago, I wouldn't have blinked twice at the amount. I used to own several handbags at least four times the price of that. Not anymore.A year after my mother fell into a coma, my father managed to get her doctors to declare her brain-dead so he could get remarried. The day he married my stepmother was the day our insurance company informed me they'd stop paying for my mother's treatments. I didn't think much of it then, being a Rousseau, but I should've known. I should've seen the signs before it was too late.

I'd only been sixteen then, and within a few months I'd lost my mother, and my brother and I had been forced to live with our stepmom and her daughter. I hadn't coped well with the way my father abandoned my mother, but I would've found a way to deal with it. I even would've played nice if my stepmother hadn't asked my father to stop paying for Mom's medical bills.

I thought my brother and I would be able to save Mom. I thought he'd be on my side. I couldn't have been more wrong. My stepmother has her claws in him so deep, she's got him convinced that all I'm doing is wasting money on a lost cause. I barely recognize Matthew anymore. I left home as soon as I turned eighteen, but he stayed.

I'm lucky that my mother set up a trust fund for me that's allowed me to keep her alive. Until now. This time, I don't have the money. I literally don't have the money to keep my mother alive, and I can't help but burst into tears.

I regret buying myself those couple of drinks at the bar earlier, even though I know it wouldn't have made a difference. I've run through more than eight million dollars in hospital bills over the last six years, often paying roughly two-thousand dollars per day on days that shedoesn'thave complications. Eight million dollars is the exact amount of my trust fund, and I'm at my wits' end. The few belongings I had helped keep her alive a little longer, but I don't know how I'll be able to pay for next month's bill. I have no valuables left. I'm well and truly broke.

I hold my mother's hand, hoping she'll squeeze my hand back. Of course, she doesn't. Every single time my hopes are dashed, yet I never stop believing.

"Mom, please," I whisper, sounding as broken as I feel. "Please wake up. Don't do this to me. I really need you. I can't give up on you now, but I'm not sure how I'm going to get enough money this month. Please wake up, Mom.Please," I beg, trying my hardest to suppress a sob.

No matter how much I plead, she never wakes up. Part of me believes that she'll wake up when she realizes I'm really in trouble this time, but realistically I know she won't. If only I could harden my heart. Would life be easier if I were more like Dr. Johnson and Matthew, and faced reality and the probability of my mother's recovery?

I rest my head on the edge of her bed, my hand desperately clutching hers. I cry my heart out, my lungs burning, and it's not until I feel someone patting my back that I realize I'm not alone in the room. I sit up and take the tissue nurse June hands me.

"I didn't realize you were struggling with the bills, honey."

She pats my shoulder, her eyes laced with concern. I try my best to smile at her, but I can't bring myself to. I can't bring myself to pretend that I'm okay.

"How long have you been struggling, sweetie? I had no idea that it's been hard on you financially."

I nod and wipe at my tears, my eyes on my mother. "It gets harder every year," I tell her honestly. "This time... this time I-" I can't even finish the words. I can't say what I know to be true. After years of fighting, I might... I might lose my mother. I sniff loudly, fresh tears in my eyes. Helplessness unlike anything I've experienced before overwhelms me and I inhale shakily, trying my best to remain positive, to keep my thoughts in check.

June takes a black business card out of her breast pocket and hands it to me, looking unsure.

"The sister of one of my other patients told me about this place," she says, hesitating. "When she struggled to pay her sister's bills, they helped her. I think it's a gentlemen's club or something like that. She... she told me they pay quite handsomely for innocent types."

June looks devastated, and it's obvious that she doesn't want to be telling me this.

"I hope you won't need to use this card. But if you do, know that there's no shame in doing what it takes to keep someone alive."

I nod and stare at the card. It just saysVaughn's, with an address. No phone number or other information. The card is thick and heavy, the letters gold. It looks incredibly luxurious.

I stare at it, praying I won't need to use it, and knowing I probably will.