I’m not evil. At least, I don’t think I am. I kept this need in check for a long time after Emilia shattered my heart into a thousand pieces.

Like a jigsaw puzzle without a picture to work from, all I could do was try to put the pieces back together from memory. It wasn’t my fault that it didn’t quite work. I was left with holes where compassion should have been.

In a way, I should have been grateful. If I was a warmer person, I might not have built my empire up into the behemoth it eventually became.

But when I decided to end my life, the need came back. I asked myself if there was anything else I wanted to achieve before I went. The only thing left that I hadn’t done was this.

Why a week? Why not take months doing it? Wearing a person down? The truth of the matter was that it was a challenge. I could have spent months, years even, same as with my business empire. But where would be the challenge in that?

It had only taken Emilia a week to break me. I wanted to know if I could do it in the same amount of time. If I failed? Well, I would just have to move onto the next woman. I wasn’t going to give up. I wasn’t going to let Emilia win.

I couldn’t have set things up better. This girl was a thief. She had already crossed me. This would be a perfect revenge, even better than seeing her squirm as I collected our drinks.

Did she know this was eight hundred a bottle? The way she gulped it down, I doubted it.

She sat opposite me, table between us, her hands wrapped round the stem of her glass. Whenever she moved her fingers, I could see them shaking. She was clearly terrified.

“It’s not what it looks like,” she blurted out of nowhere.

“Excuse me?”

“Your wallet, I mean. I found it. I was just giving it back.”

I waved her into silence. “I have an offer for you.”

“An offer? What kind of offer?”

“You spend one week in my house and I pay you a million pounds.”

She looked shocked. That was different. Normally, they looked grateful or greedy. She went to stand up, glaring at me. “What do you think I am, a call girl?”

“Sit down,” I said, my voice cold. She looked at me and I looked at her, neither of us saying anything. This was the first real test. I waited, not blinking.

I could tell she was churning, torn between telling me to go fuck myself and her clear need to submit. She yearned for it, that was obvious, it was the only thing keeping her from walking away.

Slowly, she lowered herself back into the seat, her cheeks flushing pink.

“That’s better,” I said, picking up my glass. I took a sip before continuing. “If I wanted a call girl, I would get one. I want you to spend a week with me. In return, I’ll pay you a million.”

“This is a joke, right?”

I shook my head. “No joke.”

“Then what is this? Some kind of game millionaires play?”

“Actually, I’m a billionaire.”

“Bullshit,” she blurted out, slapping her hand over her mouth as if she hadn’t expected to say it.

“I assure you I am.”

“An actual billionaire?”

I nodded.

“Like in the books?”

“What books would they be?”

“The romance books. They’re all billionaires.”

“Then yes, I’m like the ones in the books. And I’m giving you a chance to be in my story. What do you say?”

“You’re serious, aren’t you? I mean, you’re actually serious.” She looked dazed, as if she’d just woken up. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am serious and I want an answer.”

“What will I have to do? At your house, I mean?”

That was perfect. It meant she’d already moved on in her head from refusing to believe me to trying to establish the boundaries. She’d already accepted. She just didn’t know it yet. “You’ll do everything I tell you to do.”

“Not…everything?”

I took another sip of my drink. “Everything.”

“What about her? Your girlfriend? What will she think.”

I blinked before realising. She meant Stephanie. “I don’t have a girlfriend. I live alone.”

“With a helipad on standby?”

“I don’t own a helicopter.”

“That’s a shame. The billionaires in the books all own helicopters. You should get one.”

“I own a hover.”

“A lawnmower?”

“No, a hover. It’s the collective noun for a group of helicopters. A hover.”

“You own more than one helicopter?” She looked shocked but then her mouth curled into a smile. “You’re joking, aren’t you?”

“What’s your name?” I asked, ignoring her question.

“Zoey.”

“Zoey. Zoey what?”

“Zoey Greene.”

“Well, Zoey Greene. Spend one week in my house with me. Don’t leave. Don’t contact anyone. Do everything I tell you to do. At the end of the week, I will pay you one million pounds.” I let that sink in for a second before continuing. “I’m going out to my car and I will set off in ten minutes. Either you’re sat in the back seat or you’re not. Time to decide whether or not you want this billionaire’s story to include you.”

I walked away without another word, leaving her behind. I was already doing things differently. No contract in advance, no talking through the details. It was all being done on the spur of the moment.

I climbed into the front of the Bentley, watching the traffic driving by. At that point, I still wasn’t sure whether she’d come. I knew that sitting down when I told her to was a good start. She was naturally submissive. That was good. Coming outside would cement that view, confirm what I thought about her.

But I could be wrong. I’d been wrong six times before.

Five minutes went by. No one came out.

Eight minutes.

Nine.

Ten.

I went to start the engine and then paused. I’d give her one more minute. The seconds ticked by on my Rolex. With ten seconds to go, I started the engine, trying not to feel disappointed. I’d have to ring the agency, book another candidate.

I was just loosening the handbrake when she burst out of the pub door and ran over to the car. She climbed in the back, not looking at me, looking out the front window instead.

Already defying me by being late, I liked that. It gave me an excuse to punish her when we got home.

“Put the blindfold on,” I said, pressing down on the accelerator and pulling into the traffic. “Don’t take it off until I say so.”

I glanced in the rear view mirror to see her holding the length of silk cloth in her hands. She looked as if she was about to say something but then she wrapped the blindfold around her head, blocking out her vision, leaving her unable to see the broad smile that was already spreading across my face.