The Billionaire Secret Game

The Billionaire Secret Game

Luigi Gabriel

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When struggling journalist Becky Lynchburg lands an exclusive interview with reclusive billionaire Damien Lancaster, she expects a routine exposé. Instead, she uncovers a world of secrets- one that ties him to a mysterious past and a vow that has dictated his entire life. Damien has spent years building an empire, keeping his heart locked away behind steel walls. But Becky's fiery determination and undeniable charm threaten to crack his carefully crafted facade. As she digs deeper, she finds herself caught in a dangerous web of lies, power, and an attraction neither of them can ignore. But Damien's past isn't just a shadow- it's a storm waiting to break. And when secrets are exposed, Becky must decide: walk away with the truth or risk everything for the man who was never meant to love?

Chapter 1 1

Becky's POV

The rain drummed against the taxi's windshield, the city lights blurring into streaks of gold and crimson. Becky tightened her grip on the strap of her leather bag, her pulse racing with a mix of anticipation and nerves. This was it-the biggest opportunity of her career. An exclusive interview with Damien Lancaster, the billionaire who avoided the press like a disease.

Her fingers hovered over the worn notebook in her lap, the questions she had prepared barely legible after hours of revisions. Everyone wanted a piece of Damien-investors, competitors, even Hollywood-but no one had managed to crack through his iron-clad privacy.

The driver glanced at her through the rearview mirror. "You sure you got the right address, miss? Ain't nobody gets into Lancaster's place without an invitation."

Becky exhaled slowly, lifting the official letter embossed with the Lancaster Industries crest. "I have one."

The driver whistled. "Damn. Guess you're someone important."

Not important, just persistent.

The taxi rolled up to an estate that looked more like a fortress than a home. Towering iron gates loomed ahead, flanked by stone pillars with hidden cameras embedded within. The main house sat beyond a winding driveway, its sleek glass exterior shimmering under the dim city skyline.

A security guard approached, scanning the vehicle before signaling her forward. Becky stepped out into the cold drizzle, her heels clicking against the slick pavement. A butler-because of course Damien Lancaster had a butler- waited under the grand archway.

"Miss Lynchburg?" His voice carried the effortless refinement of someone born into wealth.

Becky nodded. "That's me."

"This way."

Her gaze swept over the entrance hall as they stepped inside. Every detail screamed quiet luxury-Italian marble floors, abstract paintings that probably cost more than her entire salary, and a chandelier that glowed like captured moonlight.

The butler led her through a dimly lit corridor and gestured toward a set of double doors. "Mr. Lancaster will see you now."

Nerves coiled tight in her stomach. This was it.

Pushing the doors open, she stepped into the lion's den.

Damien's POV

The woman entered with purpose, though her eyes flickered with apprehension. Damien studied her from behind his desk, taking in the way she squared her shoulders, masking any sign of unease. A journalist who knew how to hide her fear. Interesting.

He leaned back, folding his hands in front of him. "Miss Lynchburg."

Her lips parted slightly before she schooled her expression. "Mr. Lancaster, thank you for agreeing to this interview."

"I didn't agree," he said smoothly. "I simply allowed you to step inside."

That earned him a flicker of something in her gaze-annoyance, maybe. Good. He didn't trust people who only played nice.

She set her bag on the chair beside her, pulling out a recorder and a notebook. "I'll get straight to it. You've avoided the press for years, yet your company dominates global markets. People are curious about the man behind the empire."

"And you think you'll be the one to satisfy that curiosity?"

A slow smile curved her lips. "I'm hoping you'll give me the chance."

Damien didn't miss the way she gripped her pen a little tighter. Most reporters came in swinging, eager to pry into his personal affairs, but Becky Lynchburg was careful. Calculated.

He tapped his fingers against the desk. "What is it you truly want to know, Miss Lynchburg? The numbers are public. The wealth is obvious. What's the angle?"

She hesitated for a fraction of a second. "I want to understand the man, not just the billionaire."

The words hung in the air between them.

Something sharp flickered through his chest-an unfamiliar sensation he had long since buried. Most people saw him as a bank vault of power and influence, but this woman had walked in and asked about the man beneath it all.

A mistake on her part.

"The man," he murmured. "You assume there's a difference."

She didn't look away. "Isn't there?"

Silence stretched, thick with something unspoken. Damien had spent years ensuring no one got close enough to ask such questions. Becky Lynchburg had just walked into dangerous territory, and she didn't even know it.

He reached for the crystal decanter at his side, pouring himself a drink. "Whiskey?"

Her brow lifted slightly. "Are you trying to make this more interesting for me, Mr. Lancaster?"

His lips curved, just enough to be unreadable. "Call it hospitality."

Becky set down her pen, fingers lacing together as she met his gaze head-on. "Then tell me, Damien. What made you the man you are today?"

A slow exhale escaped him. This woman wasn't just looking for a headline. She was looking for something real, and he wasn't sure whether that was a problem... or the most dangerous temptation of all.

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