I Stole The Billionaire's Wallet And His Heart

Elara's POV I weave my way through the crowded hall. A place this magnificent costs more than the life earnings of a hundred men. Yet, the rich and influential use it for display. The soft strains of jazz music float through the hall. I feel a little out of place, in my dazzling red dress which costs no more than a few dollars. Looking around, I try to see if anyone notices the difference between the cheap material and the thousand-dollar dresses adorning everyone else in the room. Nobody pays any attention to me, all focused on showing off their wealth. A deep baritone voice suddenly cuts through my self-judgment. “Ladies and gentlemen, you are welcome to my 28th birthday party. We are family, and I hope you all feel free." The crowd breaks out in cheers, applauding the man who steals the room's attention with his captivating silver eyes, his affluent accent, and his elegant attire. They have to. Of course, he just said they belong to one family. The wealthy as one and the poor as one. The expensive dresses and the grand arena seem to mock me, clearly expressing the rift between this world and mine. As he steps down from the stage, I initiate my plan. Swaying my hips and elevating my shoulders, I saunter towards him. The moment I am close to him, I let my lips curve into a sly smile, my eyes locking onto his. His gaze falters for a fragment of a second, his eyes quickly drifting to my lips before returning to mine as he gulps noticeably. Feeling confident by his actions, I trail my fingers down my hips as I incline my head towards the direction of the staircase. He raises an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity and interest sparking in his bright silver eyes. When I turn away, I let out a deep breath I don't realize I have been holding. I let it out, hoping my charade has gone unnoticed by all except the man I've set my sights on. Reaching the top of the stairs, I stand in the middle of a glimmering hallway. I pick a random room and stand at the doorway, my hand resting quietly on the doorknob. The moment he turns the corner into the hallway, I bite my bottom lip as I open the door. My mouth hangs open as I step into the most magnificent room I have ever seen. With white and black curtains, a king-sized white bed, and the beautiful view of the city below, this room could pass as paradise. I lose myself in thought as I take in every little detail of the room. “Keep them on the table and leave.” I turn around, holding my chest as if to shield my heart from falling out, as I watch the two new figures in the room. The servant boy quickly drops two glasses of champagne on the table and, with a bow, leaves the room. My eyes take in the sight before me: he has on a three-piece black suit, accentuating his silver eyes. The two top buttons are undone, giving me a fascinating view of his deliciousness. I wish for a second that I could savor it, let my tongue run over that hotness. However, I quickly remember that I have a plan, a plan I can't afford to destroy due to lust. I have to begrudgingly accept that I must leave without tasting this hotness. “Mr. Russo,” I begin, “I am–” His sharp, rugged voice cuts me off. “Take off your clothes and get on the bed.” His commanding tone leaves no room for denial. I feel the heat rush to my core at his voice. Unfortunately, I'm not here for pleasure. Softening my tone, I let my eyes trail over his form. “Why don't you take yours off first, Mr. Russo, and then I just might.” I actually think he'll refuse or insist, but his next move surprises me. In a swift movement, he unbuttons his suit and discards the jacket on the nearby couch, then hurriedly takes off his shirt. My heart leaves my body, touches the sky, and comes back with full force. Before me stands a being inferior only to the heavenly beings, his naked chest on display sending a flame to my cheeks. Come on, Elara, control yourself. You can't let your plans fail because of one gorgeous, heavenly attractive man with silver eyes and a toned chest. You're stronger than this, I tell myself, willing myself to stay in control but losing drastically. He suddenly starts walking closer, making my heart beat erratically in my chest. I try to move backward, but I fall on the bed behind me. He climbs over me, spreading his legs on both sides of my body, and for the first time this evening, he touches me. The sparks follow his fingers, a rally of butterflies protesting in my stomach, and I take a deep breath, hoping to cool down the heat I'm feeling. I have to stop this before it goes too far. “Mr. Russo, can we have a bath? I'd like to know if you can prepare one right away?” He freezes, seemingly surprised by my request, but nods and leaves for the bathroom. I let out a relieved breath, feeling the butterflies finally going to rest as I get to work. Reaching for my purse, I take out the little parcel and carefully pour its contents into his glass, making sure to differentiate it from mine. My hands shake as I try to hide the evidence. Immediately after I put the parcel away, he comes back into the room. “Why don't we drink first before we continue? We have this long night all to ourselves anyway.” I say while handing him his glass. He takes it and says, “We do have the night to ourselves, and I hope you came prepared because you will beg me to release you soon.” I take a sip of my drink, trying to hide the anxious look on my face. Thankfully, the drug works really fast as he soon staggers toward the bed. Before I can register it, I feel the softness of his lips around mine. His hands trail up my hips, his fingers running in circles as he pulls me in closer. I don't want the moment to end, but I suddenly feel his lips detach from mine as his heavy weight drops on me. He has fallen asleep. With a lot of struggle, I push his body to the side and quickly get to work. I pick up the jacket he discarded and search the pockets, a bright smile filling my face as I take out his wallet. I walk back to the bed, lay a small kiss on his plump lips, and whisper, “I just got my revenge, Mr. Russo, and there's nothing you can ever do about it. You ruined everything, but I finally took something back.” With that, I pick up my purse, and casting one last glance at the unconscious man on the bed, leave the room. A slow grin appears on my face as I realize: I just stole a billionaire's wallet. Just as I reach for the door, footsteps echo faintly down the hallway, getting louder with every passing second. My heart stops. Someone is coming.