Helen’s POV

I took one last look in the mirror and almost didn’t recognize myself.

The woman staring back wasn’t the same Helen who used to walk through crowded market streets or ride dusty buses home after a long day. She looked… expensive. The dress Troy chose for me ...a soft wine-red silk that clung perfectly in the right places ... shimmered as I moved. The neckline was lower than I was comfortable with, but it made my skin glow, and the slit along my thigh made every step feel daring.

The makeup artist had done magic ... my lips tinted a deep rose, my hair in gentle waves over my shoulders. For once, I didn’t look ordinary. I looked like I belonged in his world.

Or maybe that was the illusion he wanted.

I took a deep breath and stepped out of the room.

At the bottom of the grand staircase, Troy was waiting ... black suit, black shirt, no tie, his watch glinting under the chandelier. His posture was sharp, his gaze unreadable as always. But when his eyes lifted and landed on me, something shifted.

He didn’t move. He didn’t even breathe. His gaze slid from my face, down my shoulders, following the line of my dress before he blinked and straightened.

For a second, I thought I saw approval. Maybe even desire. But then his expression closed off again like a locked door.

“Let’s go,” he said, turning toward the entrance.

Just like that.

I bit the inside of my cheek and followed quietly, my heels clicking against the marble floor.

Outside, the night air was cool and scented with roses. The driveway was lined with luxury cars, but instead of heading to one, Troy walked straight across the path leading toward the private hangar.

My brows furrowed. “Wait...are we…?”

He didn’t answer until we reached a sleek, silver jet parked under glowing runway lights.

My mouth parted slightly. “You own a private jet?”

He gave me a side glance. “You’re surprised?”

“I—” I hesitated, blinking at the perfectly polished wings. “I just didn’t think anyone could casually say, ‘let’s go,’ and mean ‘let’s fly across states.’”

His lips twitched ...almost a smile ... before it vanished again. “Get in.”

Inside, the jet was a floating palace. Plush leather seats, a small bar with gold accents, and soft instrumental music playing in the background. I felt small, completely out of place, like a child in a museum where everything sparkled too much to touch.

I sat down, trying to act composed, but my eyes kept wandering ... the gold-edged cup on the table, the dim lights, the faint scent of his cologne filling the air.

“You can speak,” his deep voice broke the silence suddenly.

I turned my head. “What?”

He leaned back in his seat, one arm resting lazily on the armrest. “You’ve been staring at everything like you’ve never seen walls before. If you want to say something, say it.”

My cheeks burned. “Maybe I’m just admiring things I could never afford,” I said coolly. “Or maybe I’m trying not to breathe wrong so I don’t damage your expensive air.”

His jaw flexed. Then he reached across the small space and caught my wrist.

In one swift motion, he pulled me closer until I was nearly against him. My breath hitched, my pulse loud in my ears.

His voice dropped low, icy but controlled. “Is this about the kiss?”

I froze.

His eyes held mine ... sharp, unyielding, but something darker lingered underneath. “Don’t build emotions, Helen. I told you before ...I own you for two months, nothing more. Whatever you think you feel, don’t.”

The words hit hard ... like a slap I didn’t see coming.

I swallowed, forcing a small laugh. “Don’t flatter yourself. You think I’d feel anything for a man who treats me like a deal?”

He released me slowly, his gaze searching my face for a beat before he turned away. “Good.”

The rest of the flight was quiet. I turned to the window, pretending to admire the view .... the dark sky, the pinpricks of stars. But inside, something ached, something I couldn’t name.

When we finally landed, the air outside was cooler, thinner. A convoy of black cars waited by the runway, engines purring softly.

The ride to the hotel was silent. Troy sat beside me, scrolling through his phone, while I stared at the city lights flickering through the window. Everything was golden, grand ... too bright for someone like me.

The car stopped in front of a towering five-star hotel, its marble walls glowing beneath crystal chandeliers even from the outside. As we stepped out, a red carpet stretched toward the entrance where men in suits and women in glittering gowns were stepping inside.

I’d seen scenes like this only in magazines.

Troy offered his arm but said nothing. I hesitated for a second before resting my hand lightly on it. His muscles tensed under my touch, but he didn’t pull away.

Inside, the ballroom was breathtaking ... golden lights, champagne glasses, violins playing softly, waiters moving elegantly among billionaires and their perfectly dressed partners.

It was another world entirely.

As we walked in, whispers followed. Heads turned. Eyes lingered.

I realized quickly why. They kept whispering.

Troy Stones ... the infamous young billionaire who never brought a woman to any public event ...was walking in with one. Me.

His hand shifted to the small of my back, guiding me through the crowd until we reached one of the round tables near the center. The table was surrounded by powerful men and women, most of whom stared openly at me before turning their questioning eyes to Troy.

He leaned close, his lips brushing near my ear. “Don’t speak to anyone unless I tell you to,” he said quietly. “Just sit, smile, and stay close.”

The brush of his breath on my skin made my pulse skip, but his tone made it clear ...this was no date. This was business.

I nodded once, forcing a polite smile as we sat.

The dinner went on in a blur ... clinking glasses, laughter, quiet conversations about markets and investments I couldn’t understand. But my attention drifted across the hall, scanning faces until I noticed one man who wasn’t looking at the stage or his meal.

He was looking straight at me.

His eyes were striking ... sharp, blue, and dangerously calm. His smile was confident, almost too perfect, and the moment Troy noticed where my gaze had gone, his entire body stiffened.

“Troy Stones,” the man’s voice carried smoothly across the table, rich and relaxed. “Didn’t expect to see you here with company.”

Troy’s tone turned razor-cold. “Ben Fane.”

I should have expected to see him here, but I was shocked. The man whose name seemed to tighten something in Troy’s jaw every time it was mentioned.

Ben raised his glass slightly, eyes still locked on me. “And who’s the lovely lady?” wanting to embarrass me.

Before I could answer, Troy’s hand found mine under the table ... not gentle, but firm, possessive. “She’s not for conversation,” he said quietly. “Enjoy your drink, Ben.”

Ben chuckled lowly, his gaze flicking between us, clearly amused. “Ah. So the rumors were true ... the mighty Troy Stones finally brought someone. I must say, she’s… quite captivating.... she looks familiar.”

Troy’s jaw clenched.

The air between them crackled ... silent, electric.

I didn’t move, but inside, I felt the tension rising like fire. Whatever history existed between them was far from friendly.

And as Ben’s smirk deepened, I had the strange feeling that my presence had just ignited a war I didn’t understand.

Across the glittering room, two billionaires stared each other down ... and I, Helen, sat right between their worlds, unsure which one would burn first. Then my stomach begins to turn....turn out of tension.