Fake dating my enemy, The playboy billionaire

JUN’S POV

It doesn’t take us long to reach. Jianyu and I split as decided, and Xion’s expert team starts clearing the gunned men surrounding the property with precision. They have silencers on their guns to avoid alerting anyone.

Meimei’s intel was on point—only a handful of the Russian mafia were here. The bulk of them were with Viktor’s uncle, guarding him elsewhere.

He doesn’t bother to send more men here because Meimei tricked the Russian mafia by pretending they were able to stop her from tracking Yiren.

Fools.

Underestimating Meimei was their first mistake.

Outside the mansion, two SUVs are parked—one is the same vehicle Yiren was taken in. The other belongs to Yifan. My jaw clenches as I scan the property, searching for any sign of her. Or him.

"East and south grounds clear," Jianyu’s voice crackles in my earpiece. "All okay?"

"West’s clear. Heading into the garage," I reply, eyes narrowed.

That’s when I see him.

The bastard who hit Yiren—leaning against a car hood, smoking.

I duck behind the wall and raise my hand in signal to my team. "Found my target. You continue."

"Keep it short. Yiren is our priority."

Love his confidence in me. "I will."

I gesture for my men to sweep the backyard. They hesitate—damn Xion. He’s drilled it into them not to leave me alone. Whatever.

I move on silent steps, circling toward the garage until I’m only a few feet away from him.

He senses me, turns—hand flying toward his gun but mine flies up faster. I fire at the gun kept on the car hood, sending it clattering away.

"You hit my wife, asshole."

I holster my gun.

And charge.

He barrels into me with the force of a trained assassin that he is, targeting my face. But I’ve been training with Xion and my brothers for years, and none of them have been merciful in their punches. Every blow we land on each other is one we won’t take later.

I block his punches aimed at my face and knee him in the stomach. We tackle each other on the floor. He’s several pounds heavier and a few inches taller. As he tries to pin me down, I dig my fingers into his throat and squeeze his windpipe. The opening lets me topple him to the side and climb on him. I wrap around his throat and hit his face with all my rage.

Fists land. One after another. Relentless.

"You shouldn’t have touched her. YOU SHOULDN’T—YOU SHOULDN’T—YOU—SHOULD—NOT—"

His face turns to pulp beneath my knuckles.

And then—

Clink.

A soft metallic sound stops me cold.

He grins—bloody, teeth bared—before his head slumps back.

Something drops from his fist.

A metal ring.

"Shit."

A suicide bomb.

"BOMB! RUN!"

We barely make it out of the garage when the explosion hits. A wave of heat slams into us, hurling us into the air. My ears ring, body skidding across gravel.

"JUN!"

"JUN! WHAT HAPPENED? ARE YOU OKAY?!*"

I groan, push myself up. The vest absorbed the blast, but the throw—brutal.

"I’m good," I croak into the earpiece. "Vest held up."

The two men beside me groan, then give me a thumbs-up. Already back in formation.

"JUN!"

"I’m fine," I say, adjusting the earpiece. "He was wearing a suicide bomb."

Jianyu heaves a breath of relief. "I’ll end up on the chopping board if I don’t take you back home in one piece. You better keep yourself intact."

"Sorry. Let’s move quick. They know about us now."

******

Smoke.

As we enter the main mansion, the fire is alreading eating it from the inside out.

Smoke curls around the hallways—slithering, licking, seething. It’s getting difficult to breathe. We cover our mouth with cloth, pushing through the black haze, shirt damp with sweat, my boots thudding against wooden floor. The walls groan like the house itself knows the end is near.

The garage was connected to the main mansion, and the blast blew up a portion of the mansion. It’d have said the fire probably turned bigger and bigger because of the inflammable things kept there. But the smell of petrol says otherwise. The mansion is literally soaked in it.

"Fan out!" I bark. "Check every damn room. Find her."

Jianyu is here as well, scurrying from room to room, calling for Yiren.

She is here.

And I’m not leaving without her.

I reach the second floor, and just when I turn around the corner a sharp thump cuts through the crackle of fire. Muffled. Up higher.

Third floor.

I pivot without a second thought.

Halfway up the staircase, a rhythmic whirring of the chopper has me pause and look out the window.

A chopper. Getting closer.

I tap the earpiece. "Jianyu—chopper inbound. East side."

"Copy that. I’ll take care of it."

I keep moving, passing every room, to the only portion of the mansion that’s still untouched by fire. The noise gets louder.

Yiren. It’s her.

"B*tch. DIE!"

My heart stops.

Yiren is on the floor, rolling in petrol, her bloodied hands clutching Yifan’s legs like a lifeline. She’s curled around him, shaking, not letting him escape. Her voice is hoarse, broken and barely audible.

Yifan snarls and kicks her.

And behind them—

A tall, reinforced glass chamber filled with water.

Her father.

He’s inside, hands clawing at the glass, eyes wild as he struggles to breathe from the tiny air pocket which is filling fast. He’s drowning. Dying.

I slam my boot into Yifan’s side, sending him flying across the room, crashing into table.

I don’t even look at him.

I empty the clip of my gun into the chamber.

Glass shatters. Water erupts across the floor like a tidal wave, dragging Uncle Martin with it. He lands near the far wall, unmoving.

I drop to my knees beside him, press two fingers to his throat.

Pulse—faint, but there.

"Martin, third floor!" I shout into the earpiece. "Breathing, but barely. I need help now!"

"On it!"

I crawl to Yiren. Her face is battered, lip split, eyes glazed.

"Bunny," I lift her head, brushing her blood-matted hair from her cheek.

She blinks, breath hitching. "Jun," A sob broke free from her bleeding lips. It was the look in her eyes that squeezed my heart. I pulled her to my chest.

"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry."

"Papa,"

"Weak pulse. But alive."

But then—

A clatter.

I spin around.

Yifan’s back on his feet, bleeding, staggering, but his hand is clenched around something.

A lighter.

"And here I thought I’m going to miss the fun. Glad, I can kill you with my own hands," Yifan wipes the back of his hand across his bloodied face, "Bitch. Die with him."

He flicks it. Flame.

Yiren hugs me with all her might. I look at Yifan dead in the eyes as he throws the lighter at us, it hisses and dies in the water washed petrol.

Yifan screams in fury. His eyes dart around—then lock onto the discarded pistol on the floor.

"Get papa, and leave," I set Yiren down and charge at Yifan as he lunges for the weapon.

I’m faster.

We collide in a blur of fists and fury. There’s no technique. Just raw rage.

He punches my jaw. I slam my elbow into his ribs. He bites, claws, kicks. I return every blow twice as hard. He has trained with me often in university, and knows my weak points. He targeted my left shoulder knowing I have fractured it twice.

Blood pours from a cut on my temple. My shoulder screams from earlier damage. He grabs a broken chair leg and swings it—I duck it and drive a kick into his chest. He spit a mouth full of blood, falls back, gasping.

From the corner of my eye, I see Yiren giving her father CPR. Two men are here to take Uncle Martin away. The fire is catching on the walls of the room which is untouched by water.

Taking the opportunity of the distraction, Yifan scrambles toward the door. Coward.

Not this time.

I sprint after him. Gosh, the fire has turned worst. "Yiren!" I shout. "Go with them! Get out!"

He’s heading for the rooftop. To the waiting chopper.

I tackle him on the stairs and pull his ankle. We both tumble down—he lands hard on his side, but I feel something crack in my shoulder. I grunt, pain spiking through my body.

Yifan kicks me in the shoulder and runs again.

I force myself up, gasping.

"JUN!"

Yiren’s voice slices through the smoke. She’s running after me.

"Why are you still here!?" I yell.

"I’m not leaving without you!"

"You are hurt."

"So as you. Do you want another round of kidnapping? That psycho is never gonna stop."She glues herself to my side.

Damn that’s my girl. I kissed her wet lips, "Stay behind me and follow the orders.

"Okay."

We reach the terrace.

Yifan is at the edge, about to grab the chopper.

He turns and grins. "You’re too late."

I nod at Jianyu who is waiting down in the open garden, three men next to him with bazooka on shoulder.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

Three explosions rip through the air.

The terrace lurches as part of it collapses. The chopper tips violently, spinning off balance. The pilot tries to regain control—but the floor beneath it sinks into the burning inferno beneath it.

Yifan screams, tries to run away from it.

I sprint the last few steps and kick him hard in the chest. Throwing him down with the wreckage, into the firestorm below.

FK

The floor under my feet gives way. I won’t be able to make it in time.

I’m falling—

But a hand grabs mine.

Yiren.

Her arm trembles, veins straining. She holds on to my hand like death itself is clawing at me and she won’t let it win.

"You’re not dying today," she gasps. "You promised me forever. I want my damn forever or I’m following you to hell."

I grin, even through the pain. "Guess I better keep that promise."

I weigh more than her, and she’s hurt. I have no fkng idea how she didn’t let go of the grip, and pulls me inch by inch.

We stumble away from the edge and fall on each other as the mansion begins to collapse.

There’s no way down. Fire surrounds us. The rooftop is falling apart. We hold each other tight.

This could be the end.

I glance down. Jianyu is on the phone, barking orders.

Then—a shadow overhead.

A second chopper.

Xion leans out, waving. "Need a lift, lovebirds?"

I laugh. "If you don’t get us out now, I’m haunting you forever!"

A rope ladder drops.

I look at Yiren. "Hold on tight."

Her eyes meet mine. "Never letting go."

I wrap one arm around her and grab the ladder.

We lift off.

And just as the chopper rises above the mansion—

The entire estate collapses into itself with a roar of fire, smoke, and ash.

Gone.

But we’re still here.

Alive.

Together.

And free.

*******