Undercover Heiress: The Ruthless CEO's Trap

Eleonore's hand froze over the design blueprint. She looked up at the digital clock on the wall. It was past midnight.

Dominique placed a hand on her shoulder. “Stay there. I will get it.”

He stood up and walked to the entryway. He pressed the button on the video intercom.

“Yes?” Dominique asked.

“Delivery for Ms. Pierce from the building's private security,” a voice crackled through the speaker.

Dominique frowned. He unlocked the door and pulled it open.

A security guard in a black suit stood in the hallway. He was holding a small, black velvet box tied with a silver ribbon.

“A Mr. Donte Hartman ordered this to be delivered immediately,” the guard said, handing the box over.

Dominique thanked him and locked the door.

He walked back into the living room, staring at the box in his hand.

Eleonore looked at the black velvet. Her stomach dropped violently. A cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck.

“Did you buy something?” Dominique asked, setting the box down on the glass table.

Eleonore shook her head. Her hands were trembling slightly as she reached for the silver ribbon.

She pulled the knot. The ribbon fell away.

She popped the lid open.

The bright living room lights hit the massive black diamond. The antique filigree brooch sat perfectly in the center of the velvet cushion.

Eleonore gasped. She yanked her hands back as if the box had burned her.

Dominique leaned forward. His eyes widened. He recognized the craftsmanship immediately.

Eleonore saw a thick, black card tucked into the side of the cushion.

She pulled it out with shaking fingers.

Printed in sharp, gold lettering across the front was a name: Carlyle Group, CEO – Keaton Kaufman.

She flipped the card over.

Written in dark black ink was a single sentence: Since you liked it, keep it.

Eleonore felt the blood drain from her face. Her chest tightened until she couldn't pull in a breath.

Dominique snatched the card from her hand.

He read the name. His face turned to stone. The warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced by pure, cold anger.

“Keaton Kaufman,” Dominique said. His voice was dangerously low. “He is a bloodsucker. He is the most ruthless capitalist on Wall Street.”

Eleonore looked up at him, her heart hammering.

“Carlyle has been aggressively circling the luxury sector all year,” Dominique continued, his brow furrowed in deep concern. “Bradley has been on high alert for weeks. There are rumors that Kaufman is preparing a massive, hostile buyout offer for BNile, and he's not the type to take a rejection lightly.”

Eleonore felt sick. The terrifying man in the garden wasn't just a stranger. He was her mentor's greatest enemy.

“I didn't know,” Eleonore said quickly, her voice rising in panic. “I bumped into him in the garden. I just looked at the brooch. I swear.”

Dominique closed the velvet box with a loud snap.

“It is a power play,” Dominique said, his jaw tight. “He is playing games. I will have BNile return this to his office tomorrow.”

Before Eleonore could reply, the guest bedroom door slammed open. The tension that had been brewing in Kierra all evening finally shattered. Kierra stumbled out into the living room. Her face was red and covered in tears, the phone she had been anxiously checking in the car now gripped like a lifeline.

“He left me!” Kierra screamed, her voice cracking. “Joshua texted me! He is sleeping with someone else!”

Kierra's knees buckled.

Eleonore instantly forgot about the brooch. She scrambled up from the floor and ran to her best friend.

She wrapped her arms around Kierra as the girl collapsed into loud, ugly sobs.

Dominique rushed over to help, lifting Kierra onto the sofa.

In the chaos of the crying and the panic, the black velvet box sat forgotten on the edge of the glass table, shining under the lights.