Undercover Vows To My Billionaire Target Chapter 1

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.

* * *

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.