Billionaires Desire

old tensions and new flames

Anthony had always loved the club scene—bright lights, loud music, and women who threw themselves at him just for a shot of his attention. Tonight was no different. He sat in a private booth, surrounded by a group of gorgeous women, a bottle of expensive whiskey in hand as he leaned back, clearly enjoying himself. The alcohol had blurred his thoughts, his mind hazy but satisfied as he watched the girls dance around him, all vying for his attention.

But his night took a sudden turn when a tall, striking woman entered the scene, her presence commanding the room. She walked straight up to Anthony, her movements smooth and confident, and without a word, she reached for the bottle in his hand, her manicured fingers brushing against his as she took it from him.

“Ladies,” she said sharply, her voice dripping with authority. “Time to go.”

The girls hesitated, looking between her and Anthony, unsure of whether to listen. But when she shot them a withering look, they quickly scampered off, leaving Anthony blinking up at her in drunken confusion. She sat down across from him, crossing her long legs as she placed the bottle on the table with a heavy thud.

"Who the hell are you?" Anthony slurred, still trying to piece together what just happened.

The woman smirked, her red lips curling into a satisfied smile. “Ariella,” she said, her voice smooth as silk. “Atticus’s ex.”

Anthony’s eyes widened, his alcohol-fogged brain suddenly clicking into place. Of course, this was Ariella—a name whispered in the circles of power and privilege. She was beautiful, ruthless, and obsessed with Atticus. Lavish in every sense, with dark hair that cascaded down her shoulders and eyes that could cut through glass. And by the look on her face, she wasn’t here to exchange pleasantries.

"I just got back from the States," Ariella continued, her voice laced with irritation. "I texted Atticus, and he didn’t respond. So I went to the company, but he wasn’t there. Imagine that."

Anthony, drunk and unfiltered, snorted. "Atticus doesn’t give a damn about you anymore. He’s got a new woman now. Some girl named Desiree."

For a moment, Ariella’s face faltered, her perfectly painted lips tightening. But then, just as quickly, she dismissed it with a wave of her hand. "Whoever she is," she said coolly, "she won’t last long. I’ll make sure of that."

Anthony shrugged, leaning back with a lazy grin. "Do whatever you want. I don’t think Atticus cares either way."

Without another word, Ariella stood up, her eyes cold and calculating. She walked out of the club, leaving Anthony to return to his night of debauchery, the encounter already fading from his drunken mind.

---

The next morning, Atticus took Desiree to the company. She stood beside him in his sleek office as he sat behind his desk, his fingers moving expertly over his keyboard. Desiree’s eyes wandered around the room, still absorbing the gravity of his world, the power he held in every detail.

As Atticus worked, his computer pinged with a notification. He glanced at the screen, his expression darkening.

“A lady came looking for you earlier today,” a staff member had written. “She said she’d be back. She’s here now, waiting for your approval.”

Atticus’s jaw clenched as recognition washed over him. He knew exactly who it was. **Ariella.**

He clicked off the message and turned to Desiree, his voice suddenly cold. “Ariella is here. My ex,” he said bluntly. “And if you hesitate, even for a second, you won’t like my response.”

Desiree stiffened, unsure whether his warning was meant to protect her or challenge her. His tone made her heart skip, and the coldness in his eyes told her that whatever history he had with this woman, it wasn’t pleasant. But she nodded, determined to hold her own.