Reclaimed By The Ruthless Billionaire CEO

Elena's POV 

The hall was filled with notable figures from across New York City. Within these halls, golden chandeliers hung above casting a warm glow of yellow light on the guests beneath it, a contrast to the dark blue light outside the night sky of New York City. At every corner, men and women in tailored suits and designer gowns—worth more than my rent—moved in effortless conversation, champagne glasses poised between manicured fingers.

I stood at the other end, my hand smoothing my skirt and my other hand positioning the ID card hung on my neck. 

Elena Carter 

Journalist 

New York Times 

My gaze fell to the ID on my neck, I felt so proud. I had worked hard for this. A few years ago, I was running around every corner of New York City searching for stories that would make a good headline but now here I am, I was even invited to give a speech at the opening charity event where all notable elites from across the city were invited.

Meanwhile, as I was drowning in my thoughts a familiar face walked up the podium, a face I had only seen on TV. He was draped in an expensive tuxedo and his hair styled in a perfect way to emphasize his better angle. He walked with grace and a dominant aura. The hall was filled with applause as he walked towards the podium. 

“Thank you! Thank you!” He said, waving his hands in acknowledgement of their applauses, his voice was calm and reassuring. 

Slowly, the room that was filled with applause died down to a stiff silence as the man on the podium started to speak. 

“I'm Adrian Blackwood, for those who don't know me.” Adrian said, his voice more resounding than before. 

The hall was filled with another round of applause. I shoved my hand into my purse bringing out a book and a pen. I'll need to jot down some information that would be needed in writing about today's event. The hall fell silent—once again. 

“It is an honor to be here today. I woke up a few nights ago to an official invite through an email. I was reminded once again that what I do—what we do at Blackwood Conglomerate—makes a difference.” Adrian said. 

A few nods of approval rippled through the crowd. 

“We have been great partners and a generous donor to this foundation for the greater good of humanity.” Adrian said, he was cut off by another round of applause. 

“On behalf of the Blackwoods Conglomerate Group, I, Adrian Blackwood, commemorate this momentous occasion with the donation of $100,000,000 to this foundation.” Adrian said, the smile on his face widened as the hall was filled with murmurs and a sudden eruption of applause. 

I waited a bit before raising my voice.

"There have been reports of corporate philanthropy being used as a cover for tax benefits. What do you say to those who question the true intent behind donations like yours?” I said, my voice cutting through the loud applause of the guests as the hall fell into silence.

A hush fell over the room. The atmosphere shifted from a joyous one to an awkward one. 

Adrian's eyes and mine locked. I didn't know if it was what I said but Adrian eyes were filled with emotions I can't explain as it met with mine. He stared at me, as if dazzled or hypnotized by my presence. The prolonged silence of Adrian got the crowd murmuring as he kept on staring at me. 

Adrian adjusted the microphone slightly, his expression suddenly unreadable. “That’s a fair question,” He said, letting the room settle. “Corporate philanthropy does come with tax benefits, that’s true. It’s no secret. But if tax reductions were my sole motivation, I’d invest in loopholes, not in people.”

A few quiet chuckles rippled through the crowd. Adrian had allowed them to die down before continuing.

“The truth is, any large-scale donation will always be met with skepticism. And that’s fair—people should question where the money goes. But what matters isn’t the speculation. It’s the results. The foundation’s progress speaks for itself. Hundreds of children get access to education, medical bills are covered, and small businesses thrive because of grants funded by these donations.”

Adrian's gaze flicked back to mine, holding my stare just a little longer than necessary. “If anyone still believes it’s all for show, I’d invite them to visit the projects we fund. See the real impact. Because at the end of the day, speculation doesn’t change lives—action does.” Adrian said. 

Another round of applause erupted as Adrian walked down the podium. I closed the book that I had scribbled some information on earlier, shoving it alongside my pen into my purse. The event continued as the rest of it was filled with drinking and chattering. I walked towards the counter, sitting on the bar chair while texting Maggie, my sister. 

“Hello.” 

A masculine voice from behind said, his voice firm and soothing. I turned only for my eyes to meet with Adrian's. I had never seen him up close like this before. For a moment I was lost in his eyes, his perfect smile charming enough to make any woman that crosses his way to fall at his feet. 

“Hello, Mr. Blackwoods. It's nice to meet you.” I said, forcing a smile on my face. My face was already red from the wave of blood gathering on my cheek. 

Adrian didn't respond to me, he remained silent pulling a bar chair from beneath the counter to sit side by side with me. 

“You can drop the formality. I'm Adrian, you can call me that. What's your name?” Adrian asked, a smirk creeping on his face. 

“I'm Elena…Elena Carter.” I said, I stuttered a bit. I lowered my gaze trying to hide my face that had turned red. 

"A drink for your sharp wit? Seems like a fair trade.” Adrian said, his voice calm and derailing. 

Adrian waved to the man at the other end of the corner. 

“We would like two bottles of that drink.” Adrian said. His gaze landed on mine. “I see you're a journalist. How long have you been one?” 

“For a few years now.” I said, summoning the courage to let my eyes fall onto his piercing gaze. 

The waiter placed two glasses on the counter and a bottle of wine which he held in his hands. He opened the bottle of wine using the sommelier method in a bid to impress us, after that, he poured some into our glasses. 

Adrian was the first to pick up a glass of wine from the counter, he gave a pointed glance at the other glass of wine signaling me to drink up. Adrian gulped down everything in one sitting. 

I lifted mine, taking in a few sips. 

“You're a hard drinker.” I said, a smile curving at my lips. 

Adrian let out a chuckle. “And you're a light drinker.” 

We both laughed. 

“You ask bold questions, Elena Carter,” he murmured, his voice dipping into something softer, more intimate.

I swallowed, gripping my glass a little tighter. “It’s my job.”

His lips curled at the corner, amused. “And do you always get the answers you’re looking for?”

“Not always,” I admitted, tilting my head slightly. “But I have a way of getting people to talk.”

Adrian responded with a smile. 

The air between us shifted.

A moment stretched—too long, too charged. His fingers drummed on the counter before slowly sliding down to rest against my thigh. The touch was featherlight at first, testing.

My breath caught.

We were too close. The hum of conversation around us blurred into static. His eyes flickered from my lips to my eyes, and before I could even

process the thought—

His lips brushed against mine.

A mistake.

But neither of us pulled away