Rise To Power: Death To My Billionaire Husband

Chapter 16: Meeting The Devil

Killian ~

"L. K, she’s leaving the house," said, the voice on the other end of the phone.

Killian rose from the couch, phone on ear as he grabbed the car keys on the table and strode out, "Make sure you don’t lose sight of her." With that, he ended the call.

After she left the hospital earlier, he’d sent people to watch her from the shadows.

Killian had tried investigating David but there was nothing significant about him, but Killian wasn’t fooled.

Ten years ago, he shattered her heart, but now, she was in danger. Even though he was the last person she wanted to see, he couldn’t leave her to drown.

...

Anita arrived at a local club in disguise wearing big, dark shades, black wig, and biker’s wear. Outside, instead of presenting an ID, she slipped the bouncers a thick stack of cash. The bouncers smiled and let her through without a word.

This place was as dangerous as it was exclusive—security was more of a fleeting thought than a concern.

The Echelon Club had a notorious reputation for catering to the city’s underworld. Illegal deals, whispered threats, and bloodstained handshakes were just part of the routine. But it was more than that—something deeper, darker. And despite all her visits, Anita still didn’t know where it ended. She only ever came when she needed something done by that person. And even then, she never dared to wander far.

The ground floor looked like any other club at first; the flashing neon lights, a packed dance floor, bodies grinding to loud, erotic music. The air was heavy with sweat, smoke, and toxic perfume.

But a second glance told the truth.

This wasn’t a normal club.

People weren’t just dancing, they were desperate. Some grinded against hard cocks, others sucked on bare breasts, and a few were already lost in public sex, right out in the open. Onstage, strippers with barely anything covering their private parts, gave the crowd exactly what they wanted. Currencies rained and the floor was covered.

Even violence didn’t stop the madness. A fight had broken out. Someone was stabbed. Dead or alive, Anita didn’t know. And honestly, no one seemed to care.

A truly sick place to be.

Anita’s nose scrunched up in distaste. She hated this place. It’s been three years since she cut ties and now, here she was again.

Anita was introduced into this world because of her husband. When he started his company, the larger corporations bullied him, almost swallowing his start-up whole, but Anita couldn’t let that happen.

She couldn’t watch her husband’s sweat and tears go down the drain like that. She couldn’t endure her husband coming home and breaking down every single day that things didn’t work out for him. She couldn’t allow her father to claim he was right about David being a good-for-nothing.

In order to make her husband and his family untouchable, powerful, and respected, she sold a part of her soul to the devil, but now that she wanted to bring him down, she didn’t mind selling the remaining half of her soul.

...

Anita arrived at a heavy door nestled deep within the underground VIP wing, where shadows clung to the walls like secrets. Two guards flanked it, their eyes sharp. Without a word, she produced a sleek black token from her coat. They stepped aside instantly, letting the door creak open behind her.

As it shut, plunging the corridor behind her into silence, a lazy, smoky voice greeted her before her eyes had even adjusted.

"Ah, Ms. Anita returns... after three long years of silence. How curious."

The room was dark, lit only by the low amber glow of wall sconces. A thick haze of cigar smoke coiled in the air. The stench of alcohol, sex, tobacco, gunpowder, and death hung like a wet cloak.

Anita’s nose wrinkled. She hated this place. She hated him—the man sprawled in the shadows, his features half-concealed by the curling smoke.

And yet... here she was.

"Put that thing out," she said sharply, her gaze flicking to the glowing cigar clenched between his fingers. "And send them out."

Around him, half-naked women lay tangled around his thighs like silk thrown over a mannequin. The scene repulsed her. The smell made her stomach churn.

He chuckled. "The queen has spoken," he said, voice coated in amusement. "What are you still waiting for?"

The women flinched as if breaking from a trance. They snatched their clothes and slipped out silently, casting curious glances at Anita as they passed.

He surprised her by actually snuffing out the cigar, setting it down with care. Then he crossed one leg over the other, settling into his throne-like chair with arrogant ease.

"I see you’re still as beautiful as ever, Ms. White. But tell me... what brings you crawling back to my humble den? I thought you’d washed your hands of our arrangement."

Anita didn’t flinch. She strode across the room like it belonged to her, dropped into the leather seat opposite him, and grabbed a bottle of aged wine from the table. Pouring a glass with practiced elegance, she slid it across to him without a word.

He lifted a brow but took the glass, swirling it once before sipping. His eyes never left hers.

"You’ve always known how to command a room, Ms. White," he said with a smile. "But surely you didn’t come all this way just to pour me a drink and stare at my face. Or... did you miss me that much?"

Her face remained a mask of calm, but a flicker of unease crept into her voice. "I need your help, Lord Ravenswood. There’s a situation... one that requires your specific skill set."

He leaned in, intrigued. "Oh? And what kind of situation might that be?"

Anita’s fingers tensed around her glass. "I need dirt...everything you can dig up, on two people: my cousin, Donald White... and my husband, David Wales."

There was a pause. She hadn’t meant to falter when she said husband, but even the word tasted like regret. Not because she loved him – God, no – but because she’d just handed this monster a thread he might pull.

Lord Ravenswood stared at her for a beat too long. Then, laughter erupted from his chest, low and rich.

"My, my," he said, reclining again, the light catching the amused glint in his eyes. "I always knew you had fire, Ms. White. But this? Turning on your blood...and your bedmate? I didn’t think you had it in you."