Undercover Vows To My Billionaire Target

I was notorious in the city of Portside for being “the impossible catch.” A sales associate at a high-end boutique, being pursued by the city’s most eligible bachelor, yet I played hard to get at every turn. Liam Hawthorne, the Portside “Prince,” would clear out my counter every month to boost my sales, but I’d immediately credit the commission to a colleague. When a stalker chased me, he didn’t hesitate to shield me from a knife attack; I, however, coldly abandoned him in the dark alley and walked away. Even when he defied his family for me, and was given the brutal, infamous ninety-nine lash strokes as punishment; I was out flashing a seductive smile, hooking up with a new, equally wealthy, man. Everyone said Liam was blinded, utterly foolish to be obsessed with a gold-digger like me. But my truth was, I was a cop. My role as a sales associate was a deep cover to get close to the crime boss, Victor Franklin, and investigate a horrific string of murders. Liam’s appearance had completely derailed all my plans. I fought him off with every cruel word I knew, but he wouldn’t quit. Just as I finally made contact with Victor Franklin, Liam would interfere, ruining the connection. I was ready to pull out, but my superiors suggested a pivot: play along with Liam, and use his access to penetrate Victor Franklin’s inner circle. And so, I started a relationship with Liam Hawthorne. Two years flew by. My mission had gone nowhere. And now, Liam had a new love.

1 I was half-kneeling, fitting a customer with a new pair of designer heels, when the photo of Liam and his new flame kissing hit the top trending list. The mall’s giant video screen was broadcasting the gossip news. A reporter deliberately prodded, “Mr. Hawthorne, you once declared Ms. Sylvia the most beautiful woman in Portside and nearly broke with your father for her. Are you truly done with her now?” Liam swirled a glass of red wine, a cold, dismissive smirk playing on his lips. “No matter how beautiful, I’ve had my fill. I’m sick of the sight of her.” My fingers twitched, nearly knocking over the shoe box. The client glanced around, then leaned in, whispering, “Agent Starling, you’ve been undercover with Liam for two years, and you’ve found nothing. Now that he’s moved on, why don’t you extract and rejoin the squad?” I thought of the photos I’d seen in the tabloids. Liam, the usually aloof and distinguished heir, was squeezed into a bustling, noisy street-food stall with this other girl. He was slightly turned, shielding her from the crowd, his eyes and the curve of his smile full of unconcealed affection. The moisture in my eyes slowly receded, leaving them cold and sharp. “Not yet. His sudden change of heart might just be the opening I need to break the case.” Before I could finish, a perfectly synchronized chorus of: “Mr. Hawthorne!” erupted at the doorway. Liam walked in, leading a young woman. She was dressed simply, with wide, clear, yet stubborn, fawn-like eyes. This was Chloe Young, the new girl he was completely infatuated with. “You,” he pointed at me, his voice flat, like he was addressing a stranger. “Come over and pick out an evening gown for Chloe.” I paused for a moment, then plastered on a professional smile and walked toward them. Chloe was already looking through the racks. When she wasn’t looking, Liam grabbed my arm and hissed under his breath, “If you let Chloe catch a whiff of what we were, you won’t be able to stay in this city.” I nodded, my smile unwavering. Chloe clearly wasn’t from this world. She was uncomfortable with the attentive service of a luxury sales associate. When I reached behind her to tie the laces of the gown, she flinched and quickly pulled away, “No, no, I can do it myself.” But she fumbled with the ribbon several times, unable to smooth the satin into a neat bow. Liam watched her clumsy attempts and suddenly laughed out loud. He stepped forward, his fingers expertly tying a perfect bow. Then, he dropped a light kiss on her cheek. “Beautiful, babe, truly beautiful.” Chloe’s face flushed crimson. Watching that scene, I felt a sharp blade twisting in my chest. I dug my nails into my palms, fighting back the tears. You are a detective. Your duty is to protect this city, not cry over a man. I repeated the mantra silently.

But the next morning, the headline, ‘Hawthorne Heir Takes New Lover, Ms. Sylvia’s Beauty Withers in Sorrow,’ was trending. Liam’s mother, Mrs. Evelyn Hawthorne, summoned me to the family estate. Stepping into the courtyard, I saw Liam kneeling by the main entrance. His dress shirt was ripped from a whipping, and the bloody welts were horrifying. His father, Mr. Richard Hawthorne, was pointing at him, roaring: “You cut off ties with those low-life women immediately and get back with Starling! Or I’ll beat you to death!” Mrs. Hawthorne was also tearfully pleading, “Liam, Starling carried your child, and then you—you tormented her so badly. Everyone in Portside knows she’s your woman! You can’t just abandon her…” Liam held his neck stiff, refusing to yield, and looked up at his father. “Then kill me. Even in death, my soul belongs with Chloe.” I stared at his rigid back. It brought back the memory of a year ago, when he had stood against his father just like this, for me. He had even gone on a hunger strike for three days, and jumped from the second floor, willing to limp just to escape and see me. Back then, looking at the bruised and broken Liam, all I could think was: Liam, when this mission is over, I will tell you everything, and we will be together forever. Now, the scene was a mirror image, but my heart was utterly cold. Fortunately, my mission was due to end in less than a month. After that, I would disappear from his world forever. I stepped forward and took Mr. Hawthorne’s arm. “Uncle, please stop. Hitting him won’t help. This is between us. Let us resolve it, okay?” Mr. Hawthorne gasped, pulling back his hand, and said with pained sincerity, “Starling, you are the only daughter-in-law we recognize.” I offered a slight smile. “Uncle, we will talk properly. Please, rest first.” Mr. Hawthorne entered the house, still looking worried. I helped Liam sit down and asked a maid to bring a first-aid kit. Just as I reached out to treat his wounds, he frowned and refused. “I’ll do it myself.” My hand hung in the air, and a bitter smile touched my lips. That was Liam. When he loved someone, it was with his whole heart, with no room for anyone else. Liam expertly cut his shirt away and started to disinfect and dress his own wounds. He sneered, “Starling Sylvia, don’t think for a second that winning over my parents means I’ll take you back. I’m tired of you…” I smiled faintly. “I know.” The three words were so calm they momentarily choked Liam into silence. I continued, “But you also know that because of you, my reputation is ruined. Mr. Hawthorne, you owe me compensation.” He gave me a cold side-eye. “How much money do you want?” “Five million, and an invitation to the Heavenly Gate Gala.” The Heavenly Gate Gala was a high-end private event hosted by Victor Franklin. I had a strong suspicion that the missing girls and the actresses whose deaths were ruled as accidents were all somehow connected to this gathering. Liam’s eyebrows furrowed deeper. “Why do you want to go to the Heavenly Gate Gala?” I shrugged. “To find a new rich man, of course. Since you don’t want me, I have to find a replacement, don’t I?” Liam looked stunned, then rage flared across his face. “Starling Sylvia, I never knew you were so vulgar.” “I’m certainly not as pure and innocent as your Ms. Young,” I met his gaze calmly. “Mr. Hawthorne, you promised to compensate me. You wouldn’t break your word, would you?” Liam’s eyes were bloodshot, and he ground the words out, “You’ll get the invitation by the end of the month. Go if you want. But don’t come crawling back to me when you run into trouble.” I looked at him, my smile light and clear. “Don’t worry. Even if I die alone in a ditch, I won’t come back and beg you.” Liam stared at my relieved smile, a vein throbbing in his forehead. “Starling Sylvia, did you ever love me at all?” I hesitated slightly. “Why do you ask?” “If you loved me, how could you be planning to find a new man so quickly after I broke up with you?” “If that’s what you choose to believe, then that’s the answer.” I dropped the line, turned decisively, and walked away, terrified that if I stayed a second longer, he would see the tears welling up in my eyes. How could I not have loved him? If I hadn’t, why would I have stayed by his side for two years with no progress on the case? If I hadn’t, why would I have become pregnant with his child, and then, fearing it would implicate the Hawthorne family, painfully chose to end the pregnancy? But it was all in the past. Our beginning was a mistake. We were destined to be strangers, star-crossed and without a future. 2 After that day, Liam and I officially broke up. Soon, my former colleagues, who had always resented me, began to ostracize me. I was forced to attend increasingly seedy business functions. After downing glass after glass of hard liquor, my head spinning, I excused myself to the restroom and escaped to the hallway. From the adjacent private room, I heard a familiar voice: “I’ll drink this for Chloe. Don’t make it hard on her.” “The new sister-in-law is pretty, alright. Got our Liam all protective. But I wonder whose bed skills are better, hers or the former Ms. Sylvia’s?” Another playboy laughed. “Definitely the Sylvia beauty. And that waist, those curves…” Liam spat out a curse, his tone suddenly serious. “Shut up. Chloe is a good girl. If you dare say another dirty word like that, I’ll rip your mouths off.” Everyone knew Chloe was the apple of his eye and dared not joke any further. Listening from outside, I felt a sandstorm rage in my heart, dark and suffocating. Six months ago, soon after I recovered from the miscarriage, Liam would drag me to clubs and parties. He would aggressively kiss me and tear at my clothes in front of his friends. Balconies, luxury cars, public parks… he never cared about my reputation, taking me whenever and wherever he pleased. Once, at a villa party outside the city, he pinned me against the transparent floor-to-ceiling window… His friends were downstairs in the yard, playing cards, and they all saw me clearly when they looked up. Liam had never once scolded his friends for me. He had never once said that I was a good girl. Maybe, in his heart, I was nothing more than a vulgar, gold-digging sales associate. I managed a bitter, self-mocking smile and was about to leave. The door to the private room opened, and I bumped right into Liam. Our eyes locked, and silence fell between us. Then, a clear female voice broke the tension. “Liam Hawthorne! Why didn’t you call me when you came out?” Chloe Young hurried over. When she saw me, her face instantly soured. “Liam, you lied to me! You said you’d cut all ties with your ex!” With that, she turned and ran toward the elevator without a second glance. Liam panicked, yelling “Chloe!” and chasing after her without a moment of hesitation. I even heard him say, “What ex? She was just a casual plaything. Don’t think too much about it.” Plaything. So, for two years, I was just a game to him. It made sense. If it wasn’t just a game, why would he have treated me so carelessly? I offered a self-deprecating smile, my eyes filled with quiet despair. 3 The next day at work, the store manager gravely called me into her office and turned her laptop screen toward me. The screen showed an incredibly explicit photo. The manager pointed at the woman in the picture and struggled to speak. “Starling, is this… is this you?” I felt a sudden drop, as if I’d been plunged into an ice bath. My whole body went cold. It was a photo taken six months ago when Liam insisted on having me in the car, and a paparazzo snapped the shot. Liam had paid a hefty sum to buy the photo, storing it on his phone. I had begged him to delete it, but he said, “Starling Sylvia, if you dare to leave me, I’ll let everyone see what you look like.” But now, he was the one who had changed his mind, yet he still released the photo. The manager sighed, looking at my ashen face. “The photo has been mass-emailed to many colleagues. It’s spreading like wildfire. We’ve decided to put you on immediate leave. Go home and wait for notice.” I understood. As the photo spread, countless strangers would see this humiliating part of me. Even my colleagues at the police department. My reputation was utterly destroyed. Portside was no longer a place for me. Thankfully, the Heavenly Gate Gala was next week. Once the mission was complete, I would request a transfer and never return. … A week passed quickly. Holding the invitation Liam gave me, I walked into the Franklin family mansion. To my surprise, Liam was there, too. He strode up to me, his cold gaze raking over me. “You actually came? That desperate to find a new man?” He leaned in, his voice full of malicious intent. “Who doesn’t know you’ve been used up by me? What decent family would want you?” I shot him a look. “Thanks to you, everyone knows I’m great in bed. Your friends are lining up to ask me out.” Liam’s face darkened, and he grabbed my wrist. “This isn’t the place for you. I’ll give you more money, enough for the rest of your life. Leave now.” I had a feeling Liam knew something. “Liam Hawthorne, are you by any chance…” “Liam!” Chloe Young rushed over, clutching his arm and pulling him away from me. “You promised me you wouldn’t get mixed up with her again!” Liam’s face stiffened. “Chloe, I…” Chloe’s eyes welled up, and she turned and fled. Liam instantly ran after her, calling her name, without a moment of hesitation. But he couldn’t help glancing back, throwing me a look of extreme complexity. It was a warning, yet mixed with a trace of pleading. I sighed with relief when they left. I subtly observed my surroundings. When no one was looking, I quietly headed up the stairs to the top floor. Around the corner, two hulking bodyguards stood before a thick, ornately carved wooden door. I pretended to be drunk, swaying as I approached them. The bodyguards, unconcerned, reached out to steady me. “Miss, this isn’t where you’re supposed to be.” My wrist flipped, and a tranquilizer dart found its mark in one man’s neck. The other’s eyes widened in alarm. As he opened his mouth to shout, I delivered a sharp, clean strike to the back of his neck. They fell silently. I quickly fumbled a key from one of their pockets and opened the heavy door. What I saw inside chilled me to the bone. Handcuffs, leather whips, iron cages… and a huge surveillance screen. I finally understood. This so-called gala was a feast that consumed one living girl after another. Before midnight, it was a typical high-society gathering. After midnight, Victor Franklin would invite his carefully selected members to abuse these unfortunate young women. This kind of ‘game’ inevitably led to deaths. Girls without connections were quickly disposed of, their bodies dumped. The high-profile ones, like the actresses, were framed as suicides or accidents to fool the public. He even recorded the whole process to entertain himself and his friends. And this was only the tip of the iceberg. A crime spree of this magnitude had to involve a vast network for sourcing victims and a deep, dark money-laundering chain. My hands trembling, I copied all the evidence. With the files secured, I hurried out of the room of sin. But the moment I opened the door, an alarm blared. Victor Franklin must have discovered the intrusion. I rushed downstairs, only to find all the exits of the banquet hall sealed. The guests whispered in panic, and the room grew restive. Victor Franklin appeared on the spiral staircase and announced loudly, “There’s no need to panic, everyone. I’ve unfortunately misplaced a priceless antique. To prevent it from leaving the premises, we must temporarily close all exits for a search.” The moment he finished, Chloe Young, who was among the guests, suddenly pointed at me and shrieked, “It’s her! I’ve been watching her! I saw her sneak upstairs! She must have stolen it!” All eyes in the room turned toward me. Victor Franklin’s cold eyes locked onto me, a predatory smile playing on his lips. “Ms. Sylvia?” Liam was also watching me from the crowd, his expression complex, finally morphing into a sigh of deep disappointment. “Starling, you could have asked me for money. Why would you…” Victor Franklin advanced on me, step by step, his gaze the cold, calculating look of a viper eyeing its prey. “Hand over the item, Ms. Sylvia. You know this is… very important to me.” I looked at him calmly, holding up my small clutch bag. “I didn’t take anything. You can search me if you don’t believe me.” Victor Franklin narrowed his eyes, reaching for my bag. With a movement too fast to follow, I pulled a small handgun, strapped to my thigh, from under my dress. The dark muzzle was pressed firmly against Victor Franklin’s forehead. I straightened my spine, my voice clear and cold. “Victor Franklin, you are under arrest.” Just then, the villa’s main door was violently forced open. Fully armed police officers poured in, quickly securing the entire scene. The commanding officer rushed to my side, snapped to attention, and announced, “Agent Starling, Special Operations is in position. Please give the order.”