"THE PRICE OF HATING YOU" the Ingles

Chapter 1: No is not an answer

Money has a particular smell.

At that party, it smelled like power... and it belonged to me.

I entered the hall without hurry, feeling the stares piercing into my back. Some were of admiration, others of envy. None of them mattered to me.

Power is not about being loved.

It is about no one daring to interrupt your step.

I had built my empire on the ruins of those who dared to underestimate me, and the suit I was wearing was not just expensive fabric... it was a statement.

I wasn't looking for friends.

I was looking for control.

—That woman is the devil dressed in haute couture —someone whispered to my right.

—I've heard she rejects every contract —another voice murmured.

I didn't react.

They weren't worth my time.

I stayed in the darkest corner of the hall, a glass of whisky in my hand. It tasted like excess... and poorly invested money. Around me, the vultures of high society waited for an opportunity to approach.

I didn't give it to them.

I wasn't looking for partners.

I was looking for distractions.

And then, the doors opened.

It wasn't the sound that made me turn my head... it was the silence that followed.

She crossed the threshold as if the world belonged to her.

Sienna Valli.

I had heard of her. A predator with the face of an angel. The heiress of a burning empire, holding it together with cold blood and decisions few would dare to make.

But the reports didn't mention the way she walked.

Every step of hers brushed against arrogance. She ignored the whispers around her as if they didn't exist.

As if they didn't matter.

—That's her, right? —my assistant murmured—. The one who rejected your offer three times.

—She didn't reject it —I replied without taking my eyes off her back, where her black dress revealed the pale skin of her shoulders—. She was just raising her price.

I watched her move through the crowd. She didn't smile warmly; she handed out courtesy like sentences.

She was beautiful, yes.

But her beauty was not an ornament.

It was a weapon.

And that darkness in her gaze...

only those who have had to bury their own enemies have it.

I smiled slightly.

She interested me.

No... she fascinated me.

I set the glass aside and began to walk toward her. The crowd parted without me having to say a single word.

As it should be.

She stopped in front of the window, watching the city lights as if she were deciding which one to turn off first.

I positioned myself behind her.

Her perfume reached me: jasmine... and something more dangerous.

—They say women like you have no price, Sienna —I said, letting my voice fall calmly.

Her shoulders tensed slightly.

Not fear.

Preparation.

—They say men like you don't know how to take a "no" for an answer, Mr. Valli —she replied without turning.

Her voice was soft... but firm.

Interesting.

—"No" is just a suggestion —I answered— for someone who has the means to change the answer.

Then she turned.

Our eyes collided.

And for the first time in a long time... I felt something.

There was no fear in her.

Only hatred.

Pure. Alive. Defiant.

And that made it even better.

In that instant, I knew.

I didn't want her company.

I didn't want her shares.

I wanted her.

—Your empire is sinking —I said, stepping close enough to invade her space—. The debt you inherited is going to drag you down before the night is over.

Her expression didn't change, but her breathing did.

—But I can erase it all.

Her fingers tightened around the glass.

—What do you want? —she asked—. My companies... or my soul?

I smiled faintly.

—Your soul is already stained, just like mine.

I paused.

—I want something simpler.

I looked at her directly.

— Six months as Mrs. Valli. You give me what I need... and when it's over, I give you back your freedom. And your empire.

The silence between us grew heavier.

—be with you? —she whispered with contempt—. I'd rather be buried alive.