FALLING FOR THE ENEMY’S SON
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Twenty-two-year-old Sylvia Baker’s world came crashing when her father mysteriously died at the Wells mansion. After discovering that his death was not an accident, Sylvia vows to take down the man all evidence leads to, the famous and Vicious Leonard Wells. A few days later, Sylvia takes a job in the Wells mansion as a chef. Using the job as undercover and her father’s diary as a guide, she plans to avenge her father by finding out why he was murdered and who the real murderer was but her mission is distracted when she collided with her suspect’s son, the heir to the Wells empire, David. David is a billionaire and has a thing for curvy women. Sylvia gets infatuated with David which led to a one-night stand. The day after their one-night stand, David got engaged to June Castello, the most sought-after actress in New York and Sylvia feels used. Sylvia is more determined to focus on her revenge goal but always ends up in David’s bed. She discovers that she’s connected to the Wells family. She also finds herself tangled in decade-old secrets and is soon fighting for her life when a quest to assassinate her is established. She discovers that there’s more to the Wells family and they might all be pawns in a bigger game. For how long can she keep her cover? Will love overpower her quest for revenge?
Chapter 1: BODY IN THE POOL
"Sir, we're here." The driver announced as he swerved into the garage of the Wells Mansion.
David slid out of the Mercedes, feeling quite antsy at the thought of being back home. The Wells Mansion was huge and fancy. A whopping two-story building that left a pauper's mouth dry. The evening sky, a swirling mix of blue and orange rested above the lit-up house. Before the building itself was a wide spread of well-tended shrubs on either side of the road.
It was a good thing then that David was no pauper. He barely gave the huge building before him a glance. Dressed elegantly in a gray, three-piece, Italian suit, he strode towards the arched entrance where a familiar face greeted him with a wide grin.
"Well well well, if it isn't Old Benny!" David grinned, baring a perfect set of white teeth. His green eyes glinted with mirth as he clasped a hand on the butler's shoulder.
"Welcome home, Young Master," Ben Baker greeted, smiling so widely, David thought his cheeks had to hurt.
"Is it a welcome though? The house is so fucking quiet, you would think someone died." He said, shaking his head.
"Ah come on David, don't speak like that." The butler chastened and took a couple of steps backward. "If you just stepped in a little further, you might be surprised."
David chuckled, shaking his head at the butler's antics. Ben Baker was still the same. A jovial man that had worked for his family for over twenty years. Tipping his head at the butler, a habit he had developed in London when he had nothing more to say, he walked past him.
Perhaps he would enjoy being at home- only for a while. He grew bored quickly and if he was going to be completely honest, he wasn't excited to be back living with his parents. That shit irked him more than his ex-girlfriend. And his ex-girlfriend had been batshit crazy.
"David!" His father's voice, loud and boisterous, boomed through the living room when he stepped in. He stood in the middle of the well-furnished living room, dressed in a sleek black suit.
Leonard Wells looked every inch like his son. They shared similar midnight black hair that he grew long instead and tied into a ponytail at the back of his head. His eyes were green, a shade darker than his son's.
"Dad," David replied, straightening his shoulders as his father regarded him. For a full minute, he stood under his father's scrutiny, resisting the urge to shift, feeling every bit like a little boy. "I'm home,"
A grin slipped onto his father's face, lighting it up with joy. The older man rushed towards his son and slapped a hand on his back. "Of course you are! And the best-graduating student of London Business school no less!"
Of course, David thought acidly. That was the only reason his father was happy to welcome him home. If he had been anything lesser than the best, he would never hear the end of it. Literally.
"I am proud of you David," Leonard said, staring intensely into his son's eyes. "You have made all my efforts worth it. Worth it all."
"Well I couldn't very well waste it all now, could I?" David teased and Leonard tossed his head back in laughter.
"Ben!" He bellowed and as quietly as a mouse, the butler walked into the living room.
"Are the guests here?"
"Yes, Master Wells. They've been situated on the balcony." The butler replied and David frowned.
"What guests? Is there a party?"
Leonard nodded. "My son is back from cold-ass London! I haven't seen you in four fucking years David. A welcome party is very much needed. Come on, Go freshen up," he urged walking out of the living room, "There are some people you need to meet."
David stared at the reflection in the mirror, arched a brow at his look, and decided that it would do just fine. His black hair had been combed neatly by his valet, gelled, and swiped to the back rather elegantly. His gray suit had been swapped while he was in the shower with a black one. Courtesy of his father, he supposed. The old man loved black suits more than he had loved his wife.
And that was saying a lot more than it should.
Grimacing at the thought, he adjusted the black bow tie and walked out of his room. The party was being held on the balcony in the east wing of the mansion. He could imagine just how many famous businessmen his father had invited.
"Might as well enjoy this," he muttered to himself, grinning. It was time to put all the skills he had acquired in college to the test. "Leonard Wells shook the business world by its foundations, I will take it by storm."
Turning round a corner, a maid carrying a long pile of folded laundry crashed into him, spilling clothes everywhere.
"What the hell?!" He spat, jumping backward. The crazy witch could have ruined his outfit! Green eyes blazed in anger as he glared down at the maid who gasped and dropped to her knees.
"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry Young Master. I hadn't been looking-"
"Of course, you weren't!" He spat, patting his hair rapidly. "Get the fuck off your knees and clean this mess!"
"Yes, Young Master." She said breathlessly, scurrying to her feet.
She was quite short, it was no wonder she couldn't see behind the tower of clothes she carried. Her brown hair was tied in a ponytail, with a few tendrils framing her heart-shaped face. She wasn't so bad to look at, David mused, allowing his eyes to drift lower.
"Hot damn," He murmured darkly, grinning when the maid glanced up at him with bright brown Bambi eyes. She was quite the looker. His eyes were fixed on her hefty chest, wondering how she would look with the ridiculous maid outfit off.
She was curvy. And David loved curvy women. What was there not to love? They were soft and supple and sweet and he suddenly wanted to know, desperately, how bambi-eyes tasted.
Leaning down to a stoop, he tipped the maids face up so she could look at him. "You should wear your hair down more often," He said huskily, stroking her jaw.
Fuck, her lips were full and pink. A vision of them wrapped around his cock filled his head and his trousers tightened with anticipation. Too bad he had to go to his father's welcome party.
After the party, he decided. After the party, he would find her. The women in London were rather bland and skinny, but this? He glanced at her jutting ass and grinned even wider. This was America's finest.
"What is your name?" He asked and chuckled when her face flamed red.
"Ana... Annabelle sir," The maid whispered.
"Anabelle," he whispered, running his knuckles down her face. She gasped but didn't pull away from his touch.
She wants this, David thought with a satisfied smile. That makes two of us.
"I'll see you later, Anabelle, won't I?"
The maid glanced furtively around them and when she was sure they were alone, she smiled shyly. "Yes, Young Master."
"Good," David replied, rose to his feet, and sauntered off to the party. She had better get ready to call him Master later that night. She would be screaming it for everyone in New York to hear.
When he arrived at the balcony, his father stood on a podium, in the middle of giving a speech. Squeals exploded around him as one of the attendants guided him to his seat.
Why the hell had his father invited so many women? He glanced around him and shuddered at the look on their faces. The starry look in their eyes told him all he needed to know.
Leonard clinked his glass of champagne with a spoon, drawing everyone's attention.
"I would like to raise a toast," he started, raising his glass. "A toast to my son, David Wells."
The sound of chairs moving against the ground filled the air as everyone rose to their feet.
"You have made me proud. I cannot ask for a better son and a better heir to my empire. And for that reason, I have made my decision. David, the Wells empire is in your hands. You will lead it to heights greater than I did. I am certain. To David Wells, the new CEO of Wells Empire."
"To David Wells!" The crowd echoed, raising their glasses.
David tossed his drink back, dropped his glass, and walked towards his father on stage. The older man wrapped his arm around him, shocking David still.
His father was... Hugging him?
The crowd around them burst into applause, cheering and hollering at the pair until a piercing scream filled the air. The applause halted, his father pulled away and everyone stared at the woman who had screamed. She shook like a leaf, clutching the railing of the balcony and pointing to the pool beneath them.
There, floating face down in the pool was a man wearing the old butler's clothes.
"Ben Baker?!" David croaked.
Chapter 2: MURDER
A shrill sound rang loud in the air, jolting Sylvia out of her yoga session. She groaned, unraveling out of a child's pose, and stretched her limbs before reaching for her phone on the bed.
Swiping her mass of golden blonde hair away from her face, she frowned at the name displayed on her phone's screen.
"Why's Dad calling?" She mumbled. He rarely called her. And considering it was almost ten at night, she had known he wouldn't be coming home that night. "Papa?"
The voice that replied was not her father's! Alarmed, Sylvia rose to her feet. Her hazel eyes were wide in fear. "Who the hell is this?"
"Is this Sylvia Bakers?" The man who had picked up the call asked, ignoring her questions.
"Yes, this is Sylvia Bakers. Who are you and what the hell are you doing with my father's phone?!"
"Calm down Mrs. Bakers-"
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