The Billionaire's Revenge.

Five Years Later

Rosie Kirkland never expected her past to walk through the doors of her boutique- at least, not wearing a tailored Armani suit and eyes that could still freeze her blood.

Lucas Blake stood tall, confident, and infuriatingly composed, a vision of wealth and vengeance wrapped in tailored charcoal gray. His presence turned heads instantly, commanding attention as effortlessly as breathing. But Rosie felt none of the awe the others did. Only dread.

She blinked, hoping it was some cruel trick of her imagination. But he was real. And he was staring right at her.

The last time she had seen him was the day she left him at the altar.

"Rosie Kirkland," he said, voice smooth like aged whiskey, yet carrying an edge sharp enough to cut glass. "Still running your little shop, I see."

She straightened behind the counter, forcing her pulse to slow. "Lucas. This is a surprise."

"Is it?" His smile didn't reach his eyes. "I figured I'd stop by before our next meeting."

Her stomach dropped. "What meeting?"

He stepped forward, closing the distance between them in slow, deliberate strides. His cologne-rich, masculine, dangerously familiar-wrapped around her. "The one where I inform you I've bought out your investors. I own Kirkland Designs now."

Rosie's heart stuttered. "You're lying."

"I don't lie, Rosie," he said softly, venom beneath the velvet. "Not anymore."

She gripped the counter. The boutique had been her safe haven after everything fell apart-after her parents cut her off, after she lost everything but her pride. Kirkland Designs was built from late nights, sweat, and stubbornness. And now, in one sentence, he threatened to take it all away.

"You can't do this," she whispered.

"I already did."

Rosie looked away, her throat tightening. "Why?"

Lucas leaned in, voice low. "You left me without a word. Humiliated me in front of our families, the press, the entire damn world. And now? You're going to work for me. You owe me that much."

She flinched as if he'd slapped her. "I don't owe you anything."

"Oh, but you do," he said, his smile cold. "And I plan to collect every debt."

---

Two hours later, Rosie sat in her tiny office, the boutique quiet around her, heart still pounding like a war drum.

She'd always known Lucas would come back one day. She just hadn't expected him to return with a business acquisition disguised as revenge.

Why now?

She opened her inbox and found the official notice: Lucas Blake had acquired controlling interest in her brand through a strategic buyout. Every signature was real. Every clause airtight. He'd planned this.

She read and reread the email until her vision blurred.

Five years ago, she had walked away to protect him-from a scandal, from a secret too dark to expose. And now? He wanted to make her pay, unaware of the truth she'd carried all these years.

---

Flashback – Five Years Earlier

The dress was beautiful. Lace-trimmed, pearl-beaded, sewn with trembling hands. Rosie had stood before the mirror, veil pinned, bouquet ready. And yet, her chest had felt hollow.

She had clutched the note, fingers shaking as she placed it on his pillow: I'm sorry. This isn't right. Please don't come after me.

She hadn't explained. Couldn't. Because the truth would have destroyed him.

Her father had threatened everything- Lucas's business, his family's legacy, even fabricated scandals ready for release. If Rosie married him, she'd make Lucas the target of a financial and reputational war.

So she disappeared.

---

Back to Present

The chime above the boutique door rang again, startling her.

"I thought you might've run again," Lucas said, strolling in like he owned the place-which, legally, he did.

She stood, spine straight. "What do you want now?"

"To make a proposal."

"I'm not interested."

"You haven't heard it." He placed a file on the counter. "There's a gala next weekend. A Blake Enterprises launch. You'll be there- as my date. And designer."

She blinked. "You want me to design your launch wardrobe?"

"No. I want you to design *mine.* And wear it beside me."

Her mouth parted. "Why?"

His gaze didn't waver. "Because the world thinks we're bitter enemies. I want them to believe otherwise-for now. You'll play the loving ex, and I'll make you relevant again."

"And if I refuse?"

"I pull funding, your brand collapses, and you go back to selling off- the-rack in a rented corner store."

She opened the file. The contract was clear: six weeks of public appearances. No intimacy required, only optics.

But it was the final clause that chilled her.

Clause 7: Failure to comply results in full asset transfer to Blake Enterprises.

He'd covered every angle.

"Six weeks," she said tightly. "No longer."

"Agreed," Lucas said, already turning to leave. "Oh, and Rosie?" He looked over his shoulder, smirking. "You should start designing something red. It suits you... especially when you're angry."

---

Later That Night

Rosie paced her apartment, contract in hand, wine untouched on the table.

She had spent years building distance between her and Lucas-not because she hated him, but because she had loved him enough to leave.

Now she was back in his orbit, and every glance, every touch of sarcasm, made her heart ache in all the old ways.

Lucas Blake was dangerous- not just because of his power, but because of what he still made her feel.

She pulled open her sketchpad, the page blank.

Design something red, he'd said.

She dipped her pencil, her strokes quick and precise. A vision formed- bold, daring, like armor wrapped in silk.

If he wanted a show?

She'd give him a spectacle. But this time, Rosie Kirkland wasn't the same woman who'd walked away. This time, she wouldn't break.

---

Rosie's pencil flew over the paper, the design coming together faster than her thoughts could settle. The dress had to make a statement-not just for Lucas and his stupid, vindictive scheme-but for her. A scarlet gown with a plunging neckline, bold and defiant, the fabric hugging curves she no longer tried to hide.

She pressed harder on the paper, her jaw tight. If Lucas Blake thought he could parade her around like some trophy, he was in for a surprise.

Her phone buzzed. A message.

Lucas: Meeting tomorrow at 9. My office. Don't be late.

She stared at the screen, her fingers itching to throw the phone across the room. But instead, she set it down and exhaled.

---

The next morning, Rosie stood in the gleaming lobby of Blake Enterprises, her heels clicking against polished marble. The receptionist glanced up, eyes wide with recognition.

"Ms. Kirkland... Mr. Blake is expecting you. Top floor."

Of course he was.

Rosie rode the elevator, heart drumming, her reflection in the mirrored walls betraying none of her nerves. She'd dressed carefully: sleek black slacks, a silk blouse, minimal jewelry. Power pieces. Armor.

When the doors slid open, Lucas was already waiting, leaning casually against his desk. His dark eyes raked over her, taking in every detail.

"Punctual. Impressive," he said smoothly. "Come in."

She stepped inside, her posture rigid. His office was everything you'd expect-spacious, minimalist, with floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the city skyline.

"So," she began, dropping her portfolio onto his desk. "Let's get this over with."

Lucas's lips twitched at her sharp tone, but he said nothing at first. He opened the portfolio and examined her sketches. His eyes lingered on the bold red gown, his brow arching slightly.

"Ambitious," he murmured. "And...dangerous."

"Isn't that what you wanted?" she shot back.

His gaze flicked up to meet hers, something dark and unreadable flashing across his face. "Careful, Rosie. You're playing a game you've already lost once."

Her jaw clenched. "I didn't lose anything. I made a choice."

"Oh, I remember." He stood, circling the desk to close the distance between them. "And now? You're making another. But let's be clear: this time, I make the rules."

She refused to back down, even as his nearness sent a shiver down her spine. "Then let's set some boundaries right now."

He chuckled, low and amused. "By all means."

"No blurring lines," she said firmly. "This is business. Strictly professional."

Lucas's eyes gleamed with something that made her pulse quicken. "Is that what you keep telling yourself?"

Her breath hitched, but she held his gaze. "Yes."

He smiled, slow and deliberate, and for a moment, Rosie couldn't tell if she wanted to slap him or... something far more dangerous.

"Very well," he said smoothly, stepping back. "Strictly business. The gala is in six days. I want a fitting by Thursday. And Rosie?"

She paused at the door, glancing over her shoulder.

"Wear that confidence at the gala. You'll need it."

---

Rosie stormed out of the building, her heart pounding furiously.

She hated him. Hated the smugness, the power plays, the way he looked at her like he still owned a piece of her soul.

But what she hated most?

That part of her- deep, buried, and furious- still wanted him.

She hailed a cab and sank into the seat, fingers trembling. This was going to be hell.

But if Lucas Blake thought she'd crumble?

He had no idea who Rosie Kirkland had become... And this time, she wasn't running.

- --