Money comes first before love

Jennybliss

Billionaires | Ongoing

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Elena Monroe has always believed that ambition trumps emotion. As a rising star in the world of financial journalism, she's built her career uncovering the secrets of the wealthy elite-without ever getting too close. But when she's assigned to investigate Nicholas Hastings, the enigmatic billionaire known for his ruthless business tactics, her carefully constructed world begins to crumble. Nick Hastings doesn't let anyone into his life, and for good reason. His empire was built on grit, sacrifice, and an unshakable focus on success. Love? That's a distraction he can't afford. But Elena's sharp wit and fierce determination chip away at the walls he's built, leaving him questioning everything he thought he knew about power and control. As Elena delves deeper into Nick's world, she uncovers a dangerous secret-one that could either save him or destroy everything he's worked for. Torn between her duty to expose the truth and her growing feelings for the man behind the mask, Elena faces an impossible choice. In a world where money always comes first, can love find a way to rewrite the rules? Or will ambition and betrayal tear them apart forever?

Gold digging Betrayal Attractive Billionaires

Chapter 17 17

01-22 15:36

Chapter 1 1

It was a crisp November morning, the kind that carried a bite in the air sharp enough to make even New Yorkers hustle a little faster. Elena Monroe adjusted the scarf around her neck as she pushed through the revolving doors of the Empire Financial Times building. The familiar scent of coffee, paper, and ambition hit her as she stepped into the bustling lobby, the click of her heels swallowed by the hum of phones and murmured conversations.

The elevator dinged, and Elena slid inside, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror-lined walls. Hazel eyes framed by thick lashes stared back, her hair twisted into a neat bun that screamed "professional." But professionalism was just a veneer; underneath it was a woman hungry for more. Today wasn't about her usual assignments-profiles on hedge fund managers or exposés on shell companies. No, today she was walking into the lion's den.

Her editor, Jack Greer, had sent her a cryptic email at 6:00 a.m.

Subject: Hastings. You're up.

She knew what that meant. Nicholas Hastings. The golden boy of Wall Street turned kingmaker. A man whose name was synonymous with power, control, and scandal.

Elena stepped off the elevator and made her way to Jack's glass-walled office. He was leaning back in his chair, a cigar he wasn't allowed to smoke clamped between his teeth. When he saw her, he waved her in without preamble.

"Elena, sit."

She dropped into the chair across from him, folding her arms. "Hastings? Really? Isn't he untouchable?"

Jack grinned, the kind of grin that made her stomach sink. "Nobody's untouchable. Not even him. We've got a tip. Something big. And you're the best we've got."

Elena arched a brow. "Flattery, Jack? What's the catch?"

"No catch." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. "We've been hearing whispers. Shady deals, hostile takeovers, maybe worse. I want you to get close. Find out what he's hiding."

"And how exactly am I supposed to get close to someone like Hastings? He doesn't do interviews."

"That's why I hired you, kid. You're resourceful. You'll find a way."

Elena opened her mouth to protest but stopped herself. This was what she wanted-a chance to prove she could handle the big leagues. But Hastings wasn't just big; he was a storm, and anyone who got too close usually got swept away.

"Fine," she said, standing. "I'll take it. But don't expect miracles."

Jack smirked. "I never do."

Two days later, Elena found herself standing in the lobby of Hastings International, clutching a notepad she didn't need and wearing a blazer that suddenly felt too tight. The building was a monolith of steel and glass, towering over the city like a fortress.

She had managed to secure a meeting with his PR team under the guise of writing a feature on corporate innovation. It was a flimsy excuse, but it was enough to get her foot in the door.

A sleek-haired assistant escorted her to a conference room, all marble and chrome. "Mr. Hastings will be with you shortly," the assistant said before disappearing.

Elena took a seat, her heart beating faster than she liked. She hated waiting-it gave her too much time to think.

The door opened, and she looked up, expecting to see another assistant or perhaps a member of his team. Instead, Nicholas Hastings himself walked in.

He was taller than she'd expected, with broad shoulders that filled out his tailored suit perfectly. His dark hair was swept back, and his piercing blue eyes locked onto hers with a confidence that was almost unnerving.

"Elena Monroe," he said, his voice smooth and commanding. "I'm told you're here to talk about innovation."

For a moment, she couldn't find her voice. He wasn't just attractive; he was magnetic, the kind of man who could make you forget your own name if you weren't careful.

"Yes," she said, recovering quickly. "Thank you for taking the time. I wasn't expecting to meet you personally."

He sat across from her, his movements deliberate. "I don't usually. But your name came across my desk, and I was curious. You've made a reputation for yourself, Ms. Monroe."

Her pulse quickened. Did he already suspect something? "I like to think my work speaks for itself."

He smiled faintly, but it didn't reach his eyes. "It does. Which is why I'll make this brief. I'm not interested in fluff pieces, and I don't have time for nonsense. If you want to discuss innovation, we'll do so on my terms. Otherwise, you can leave now."

Elena's instincts flared. This wasn't just a power play-it was a test. "I don't do fluff, Mr. Hastings. If I did, I wouldn't be sitting here."

For the first time, his expression softened, just a fraction. "Fair enough. Let's begin."

The next hour was a verbal chess match. Elena probed with carefully crafted questions, trying to peel back the layers of the man sitting across from her. But Nick deflected with the ease of someone who had spent years under scrutiny. He was charming but guarded, revealing just enough to keep her interested without giving anything away.

When the meeting ended, she felt both exhilarated and frustrated. As she gathered her things, Nick stood, watching her with an intensity that made her pause.

"Ms. Monroe," he said, his voice low. "I have a feeling we'll be seeing each other again."

She met his gaze, refusing to back down. "I wouldn't bet against it."

As she walked out of the building, her mind raced. Nicholas Hastings wasn't just a story-he was a mystery. And if there was one thing Elena couldn't resist, it was uncovering the truth.