THE BILLIONAIRE’S MYSTIQUE BRIDE

“Get your hands off my butt, Sir! I’m warning you.”

Mia pulled her arm free from his hold, disgust rising in her chest as she grasped a nearby table for support.

“And what if I don’t?" he whispered, squeezing his hold tighter. "What comes next, darling?"

The charity event thrummed with affluence and power—men in customized suits, women adorned in high fashion, and secrets exchanged over glasses of vintage wine.

Soft jazz played in the background, enhancing the lively, cheerful ambiance.

Mia was only twenty-two, yet the man beside her, old enough to be her father, didn't seem to care. Seth Cornell—Vice Chairman of the ZIRCONS Group. A name powerful enough to silence a room.

The guests’ identities were deliberately concealed for privacy, and their names were replaced with numbered tags.

But she wasn’t here for names, for power plays, or for whatever game men like him indulged in.

Her task was simple: obtain a saliva sample from VIP01—Seth Cornell—and leave.

“Let… go!” Mia struggled, her eyes darting toward the men seated around him. Their amused expressions and mocking laughter made her stomach turn, but she managed to break free once again.

“I knew you’d be worth my time the moment I walked in,” he growled, his fingers stretching out to graze her waist. “Tell me your price, and I’ll have it done.”

Without hesitation, Mia’s fist connected with his chin, her humiliation boiling over.

The laughter at the table ceased immediately. Her gaze swept the hall, thankful as she observed that the handful of lingering guests were too absorbed in their conversations to notice the conflict.

She looked back at the man before her. His body shook with rage—not mere anger, but intense fury. Mia knew there would be consequences, but she forced herself to remain composed. Any further reaction could jeopardize her mission.

“I’m so sorry, Sir. Please forgive Miranda’s silly mistake.” The hospitality manager rushed in, his tone appeasing as he tried to defuse the situation.

“Is this how your hostesses treat guests?” Seth spat, slamming his palm on the table, causing the plates to shake.

“Miranda, kindly apologize to our esteemed sponsor,” the manager insisted, his voice shaking with anxiety.

Mia stayed quiet, her lips pressed into a firm line. She refused to give him the satisfaction of an apology.

“That’s her name—Miranda!” His glare bore into her. “Ignorance is a dangerous thing, Miss. And you’ve just made the biggest mistake of your life.”

Mia rolled her eyes at his threats. Her real name wasn’t Miranda, and she had no intention of staying in Costa Rica long enough to worry about his empty threats.

“Miranda! My office, now!” her manager barked, signaling for another hostess to take her place.

“That was a risky move, Mia. Are you out of your mind?” Xiang’s voice crackled in her earpiece, sharp and irritated. Even through the tiny earbuds, his annoyance was clear.

"I had no idea I would encounter perverts in a corporate environment like this," Mia murmured, slipping into the closest restroom to hide.

“Stay in character, Mia,” Xiang retorted. “We’re close to pulling off the blackmail with Madame Shirley. Do not ruin this.”

“How close is the driver? There’s no need to stay here anymore,” she pressed, urgency tightening her throat.

“That shouldn’t be your worry,” he interjected. “You have his DNA samples intact, right?”

“Affirmative, Boss,” she said, slipping a carefully sealed wine glass into her bag.

“Brilliant. Now, take an exit through the kitchen. Your flight to New York departs in an hour. Meet us at the address I sent. Don’t be late.”

Mia quickly changed into a fresh outfit, swapped her wig, and covered her face with a scarf. With a new identity in place, she quietly exited the building and made her way to the airport.

But sleep wouldn’t come easily. Shutting her eyes meant sinking deeper into this nightmare. No matter how many faces she wore, how many lies she told, she was still the same person inside.

************

Hours later, Mia stepped into the deserted warehouse as directed. The musty scent of rusted metal pipes filled the air. Each step echoed in the emptiness as she neared the small group of con artists seated around a worn out table.

The poor lighting cast a warm glow on their faces, making them recognizable even in the darkness.

“Here comes my beautiful Mia,” Xiang’s voice rang out from his seat.

Xiang was a man in his mid forties, the leader of the con gang Mia worked for. Known for only one thing—money, filling his pockets.

“Why the long face?” He grinned.

“I think there’s not much time for smiles in my line of work,” she retorted, approaching him.

“Well… we have a special assignment for you, a delicate one that will require your feminine charm. So, cheer up.”

“What is it this time?” Mia snapped, her brows drawing into a frown.

“Easy, tigress.” Xiang reached for an envelope on the dusty table, pulled out a photograph, and slid it toward her.

Mia’s eyes locked onto the target’s face, but she barely registered it—she could already sense Xiang’s sinister grin watching her reaction. Something was off.

“That’s Lorenzo De Luca, an Italian business mogul,” Xiang explained, clearing his throat. “He’s known for spotting intruders, so we’ll have to do this the other way.”

He paused before adding, “He frequents The Red Room, a VIP-exclusive club. You’ll go there, pose as a new stripper, follow him to his hotel room, and steal that drive from his suitcase.”

“What?!” Mia’s breath hitched. “You… you want me to seduce this man?”

“Actually… he’s rather a practical man. If you want to get close, you’ll have to do more than just look pretty. Get prepared.”

“You’re joking.” Her stomach twisted. “Tell me you’re joking.”

Her throat tightened as a tear slipped free, but she turned away, wiping it before anyone could see. Breaking down wouldn’t change a damn thing

Four years. Four years of working undercover, lying and deceiving to survive all for a debt she never owed. But this? Giving away what little dignity she had left… How could she escape this?

“Xiang… I signed up to be your mole, not a… a stripper. I’ve never done anything like this before,” her voice shook slightly.

“You knew what you signed up for, didn’t you? Or did you think undercover work only meant listening in on conversations and passing notes?”

Mia clenched her fists, steadying herself against the weight of her own humiliation. “Is… is there any other way we can get this drive?”

Xiang rose from his seat, approaching her with slow, calculated steps.

“Lorenzo has a type, and lucky for us, you match it perfectly. So if bedding him is the only way for us to succeed, then so be it.”

“Wait… What if I bring my father to you instead? Would that settle it?” she pleaded.

Xiang scoffed. “And how long has that been? Four solid years, Mia. And even if you do find him, you really think he can pay back a hundred million overnight? Don’t be delusional.”

A sinister laugh escaped his lips as he returned to his seat. Something inside Mia snapped, causing her knees to buckle, bringing her to the ground.

“I’ve always been obedient Xiang… you know it. But please be merciful,” she whimpered.

A patronizing grin spread across his face as he slowly brushed his beard with his fingers.

“Look here, Mia, I’m going to make you an offer,” Xiang began, his tone almost mockingly considerate.

“I don’t usually do this, but I’m feeling generous today.”

Mia swallowed hard, waiting.

“If you pull this off,” Xiang continued, “maybe… just maybe, you can consider this your last task.”

His words sat like acid on her tongue. But what then? Would she choose to run away, knowing Xiang would hunt her down? Refuse, and let someone else take her place—someone who might enjoy it?

Her fists clenched. One last job. One last lie.

Then she exhaled sharply.

“Fine. I’ll do it,” she said, though it felt like a noose tightening around her neck.

“Now that’s the spirit.” Xiang leaned back, satisfied. “Go home and get some rest. Rambo will pick you up tomorrow.”