Love at First Night: The Billionaire's First Love-Chapter 50: Never touch what’s mine

>Alisha

The office door closed behind Eleina with a soft, clean click. I watched the door for a moment, my eyes lingering there as if I could still see her standing on the other side. Only after a few seconds did I pull my attention back to my desk, where the camera lay waiting.

I picked it up and thumbed through the photos again. Each picture looked the same as before, but I checked them anyway. It helped me think.

"So?" I asked without looking at Marcus. "Did you find out where the information came from?"

Marcus cleared his throat. He moved forward and placed a thick folder on the desk. Papers shifted inside with a soft rustle. "We traced the phone’s IP," he said. "It led us to a homeless man in the center of Country P’s biggest city."

I set the camera down and dragged the folder closer. The edges were rough under my fingers. I opened it slowly, letting my eyes scan the documents one by one.

"The man said a stranger borrowed his phone," Marcus continued. "He was paid for it, and the phone was returned a short time later."

I leaned back in my chair, pressing my fingertips together under my chin. My mind sifted through possibilities. "Any security cameras in the area?" I asked, finally looking up at him.

Marcus shook his head. "None. Not even far-off street cameras. Whoever did this chose a blind spot on purpose."

A dull irritation rolled through me, but I hid it. Instead, I reached into the folder and pulled out a printed photo. It was a picture of the text message sent to us two weeks ago.

’Archeval’s Marital Home: Paradise City, Happy Villa.’ then a pin of the location.

A short message. There’s no additional context or recipient. But it revealed everything it needed to.

Happy Villa wasn’t just any house—it was one of the Archeval family’s private villas, scattered across the country. Their locations were locked behind strict confidentiality. Even most employees didn’t know the exact addresses.

Which meant only someone close to them could have leaked this.

A traitor.

My lips curled into a small, controlled, and satisfied smile. I had doubted this information when we received it. But now that I knew it was real, the path ahead became much clearer.

Breaking them from the inside would be easier than I planned.

Marcus shifted, waiting. "Do you want me to investigate the man in the photo?" he asked.

I closed the folder, sliding it aside. "No," I said quietly. "I already know who he is." I couldn’t mistake that red head for anyone else.

Venzrich Archeval.

I didn’t expect him to look at her with that kind of expression. If he cared for that woman... then I needed to act faster. I couldn’t allow him to reach what he wanted.

_____

A few weeks earlier — two days after the encounter with Mallory at the hospital

The bar was dim and filled with low chatter. Lights from the shelves behind the counter bounced off bottles, giving the room a warm, amber glow. I lifted my hand to signal the bartender for another rum. He nodded and reached for the bottle, the glass clinking softly as he set a new drink down.

At that moment, the chair beside me scraped back, the legs dragging across the wooden floor. Someone sat down next to me. I didn’t look right away, but I felt the slight shift of air, and the warmth of another presence, the faint scent of alcohol and expensive cologne mixing together.

My fingers tightened around my glass. I tilted my head just enough to see who had joined me.

"You sure a married man should be drinking with the woman who was supposed to be his sister-in-law?" I said with a small laugh. I wrapped my hand around the cool glass of rum the bartender pushed toward me, lifting it slowly. The ice inside shifted with a soft clink as I took a quiet sip.

Venzrich didn’t react. He just watched me, his eyes sharp and unreadable.

"What did you do to her?" he asked. His voice was cold, steady, and straight to the point—like he only came here for that one question.

I didn’t know he would act this fast.

I turned my body slightly toward him, resting my elbow on the counter. "Why do you want to know?" I asked. "If you’re looking for a justification, I already have plenty."

My stomach tightened a little. My little sister was losing herself because of him, and now he was acting like he could swap her out for another one? The thought alone made my grip on the glass tighten.

Then, in a sudden motion—one so fast I barely saw it—something cold pressed against my forehead. The metal was icy, the touch sharp enough to make the hairs on my skin rise. A soft click followed.

His gun pointed straight at me.

"I don’t care what you think," he said. His hand was steady, no shaking or even the slightest hesitation. Like one wrong move could cost me my life. "I don’t want anyone touching what’s mine."

He pushed the barrel a little firmer into my skin, making sure I felt the pressure.

From the side, I heard a faint shift—Marcus. My bodyguard had already drawn his gun. He placed it against Venzrich’s temple, close enough that it almost touched his hair. His stance was rigid, jaw tightened, eyes focused.

For a moment, the three of us stayed still. The bar around us was loud with music and any witness couldn’t be bothered to stop us, but somehow our corner felt strangely quiet.

I let my eyes move to Marcus before returning them to Venzrich, keeping my face relaxed.

"I didn’t think the famous Venzrich Archeval was this romantic," I said with a smirk.

His expression darkened, a shadow crossing his face.

"And here I thought someone like you couldn’t care about anyone," I added, "after ignoring my sister’s feelings for six whole years."

"That’s none of your business," he replied. His eyes narrowed slightly, but his grip on the gun didn’t change.

"It is my business," I said plainly. "I know what kind of person you are. You treat people like they’re replaceable tools. You use them, then toss them aside when they stop being interesting to you."

I leaned forward just a little, pressing my forehead gently against the barrel of his gun, showing I wasn’t planning to move.

"Let me remind you, Mr. Archeval," I said, keeping my voice low and even, "if you keep trying to hold onto things that don’t belong to you, someone will take them away sooner or later."

I let my smirk return.

"My sister was never yours."

_______

"Anyway," Marcus said, clearing his throat as if trying to break the tension in the room, "about the incoming banquet. The Union already sent us the invitation."

I blinked once, pulling my attention away from my thoughts and snapping back to his voice. I turned slightly in my chair, letting my fingers drum lightly on the edge of the desk as I processed his words.

"The invitation?" I asked, raising my brows. Marcus nodded and held out a slim white envelope. The gold seal on the front glimmered faintly under the office lights.

I reached for it, brushing my thumb over the seal before setting it on the table beside the folder. "Right," I muttered. "It’s that time of the year, huh?"