Taming The Billionaire-He was never meant to fall for her, She was paid to destroy him

(Malia's POV)

  The morning light streamed through the curtains like it had no respect for heartbreak.

  I rolled over on Ivy's couch, the thin blanket tangled around my legs, my body stiff and sore from sleeping in a position it clearly wasn't made for. My eyes were heavy, my throat dry, and my chest still throbbed from everything that happened just hours ago.

  David.

  The name alone was enough to make my stomach twist.

  It hadn't been a nightmare. I had actually walked in on him last night. I had actually seen him-saw her-heard them. My mind played it on repeat like some twisted highlight reel I couldn't switch off.

  I pushed myself up and dragged the blanket off me. Ivy's apartment was quiet, except for the soft humming of her coffee machine in the kitchen.

  The couch creaked as I stood, my knees cracking slightly. I hadn't even brushed my hair last night. I caught my reflection in the hallway mirror as I passed - eyes puffy, lips cracked, hair wild.

  Perfect. Just the look of a woman who'd lost everything.

  Ivy appeared in the kitchen doorway with a mug in her hand. She was wearing an oversized shirt and pink satin bonnet, her expression careful.

  "You're awake," she said softly.

  I nodded, too tired to speak.

  She handed me the mug. "Coffee. With cream. And a bit of honey. You need strength."

  "Thanks." I took it, held it for a moment before finally taking a sip. The warmth settled in my stomach, but it did nothing for the hollow in my chest.

  Ivy leaned against the counter, studying me. "You look like you slept in a dumpster."

  "I feel like I've been hit by a train," I muttered.

  "Good. Then you're human." She smiled faintly. "You're allowed to hurt, Mal. But you're not allowed to stay broken. I won't let you."

  I looked at her. "What if I want to stay broken? What if it's easier?"

  "Easier isn't better," she replied, sipping her own coffee. "You deserve better than scraps. You always have."

  Her words hit hard.

  "I thought I was building a future," I whispered almost on the verge of tears.  "With him. Everything I did-every decision, every sacrifice-I thought it would pay off."

  "You were loyal to the wrong person. That's not your fault."

  "It still hurts."

  "I know."

  We sat in silence for a few minutes. The kind of silence that only happens when someone really knows you - and knows when not to fill the air with useless words.

  Then Ivy set her mug down.

  "So," she said carefully, "there's something I want to talk to you about. And before you freak out, just hear me out, okay?"

  I raised an eyebrow. "That's never a good way to start a conversation."

  She chuckled. "True. But still - listen."

  I waited.

  "There's this... opportunity," she said. "Something that might sound crazy at first, but it could help you get back on your feet. It's not a regular job-"

  "Oh, great. Is this about selling feet pics or scamming sugar daddies?" I said dryly.

  She rolled her eyes. "Malia, I'm serious."

  I crossed my arms. "Okay. Go on."

  She exhaled, her face suddenly serious. "A client of mine reached out a few days ago. He's in... private consulting. Powerful network. Deals with corporate takeovers, legal strategies, reputational cleanups-stuff I barely understand."

  "You're losing me," I said.

  "I'm getting to the point," she said. "This guy-Mr. Andrew-is looking for someone to go undercover. It's not illegal," she added quickly, seeing the alarm in my eyes. "It's more like... strategic manipulation. He needs someone smart, observant, and persuasive to get close to a target."

  "Target?" I repeated, frowning.

  "A man named Kieth Williams."

  The name didn't ring a bell.

  Ivy continued. "He's a billionaire. Owns multiple companies. Young, ruthless, ridiculously successful-and notoriously private. No wife. No kids. No scandal. The man is a fortress. Untouchable."

  "And this Mr. Andrew wants someone to... do what exactly?"

  "Get close to him. Gain his trust. Make him open up. Figure out his weaknesses. The goal is to destabilize him emotionally. Break him."

  I stared at her.

  She met my gaze head-on.

  "It's manipulation," I said flatly.

  "Yes," she admitted. "But it pays. A lot."

  I looked away. My stomach churned. "I don't know, Ivy. That sounds... wrong. Immoral."

  "Is what David did to you moral?" she asked sharply.

  I flinched.

  "I'm not saying revenge is the reason to do it," she went on, voice gentler. "But you need a way out. A way forward. This isn't forever. It's just one job. One man. You get in, do what you have to do, and you're free."

  I swallowed hard. "What makes you think I can even pull something like that off?"

  She gave me a look. "Malia, you're smart. You read people like books. You know how to blend in, how to charm, how to adapt. And you're beautiful. Don't underestimate the power of presence. That's why I gave your name to Andrew."

  "You what?" I nearly dropped the mug.

  "He's interested," she said. "Wants to meet you. Said he could arrange something discreet."

  "Ivy," I whispered. "This isn't me."

  "Maybe it isn't the old you," she said. "But the old you got walked all over. Maybe it's time you met the version of you that stops asking for permission and starts taking what she deserves."

  I didn't know what to say.

  Part of me was screaming no. This wasn't me. This was dangerous. Morally gray. Risky.

  But another part - the part that lay broken on Ivy's doorstep last night - wondered what it would feel like to have control. To hold power instead of begging for it. To make a man fall... and not be the one left in pieces.

  I set the mug down.

  "What does he want me to be?"

  "Yourself," Ivy said simply. "Just... calculated. Observant. Dangerous."

  I let out a shaky breath. "And this Kieth Williams guy? What's he like?"

  "Cold. Brilliant. Untouchable." She paused. "But even the strongest men bleed, Mal. You just have to find the right place to cut."

  A chill ran through me.

  Not because I was scared.

  But because some small part of me wanted to see if I could do it.

  Not out of revenge. Not out of hate.

  Out of survival.

  Out of transformation.

  "Set up the meeting," I said finally. "Let's see what this Mr. Andrew has to offer."