Fake dating my enemy, The playboy billionaire-Chapter 95: From my dead sister’s diary

JUN’S POV

"Stop making that face, Jun. I want to puke on your shoes," Jianyu deadpans through the laptop screen, his expression as unimpressed as ever. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

"Get over it. I’ll buy you ten pairs." He’s referencing the champagne I "accidentally" spilled on his brand-new Louboutins during today’s auction.

I swirl the Macallan in my glass, wishing for the comfort of the humble beer my fridge back home is stocked with. This hotel’s bar is annoyingly all about expensive and rare alcohol—so much for being a seven-star.

It’s the first time we’ve gone head-to-head for something as trivial as a property. And as expected, the media has already turned it into a circus, spinning stories about a feud between the Feng brothers. I take another sip, my dark mood simmering under the surface even though it was all a part of the plan.

"Naah, I’m eyeing more interesting things. How about you let me buy some stake in your new company?" Jianyu asks.

"Whatever you’re giving him, I want the same. No biasness. I’ll match the price." Shishi cuts in, leaning forward in his chair. He’s been silent for most of this call, observing like the strategist he is. But when money’s involved, the businessman in him comes alive.

"Lot of confidence or lot of money?" I quip, raising a brow at my brothers.

"Both," Shishi answers without hesitation, a grin tugging at his lips. That’s what I love about him—straightforward and unapologetically confident in me.

Jianyu, on the other hand, is only half paying attention as he wrestles his stubborn baby. The kid swats at the bottle like it’s an enemy. "I just want a good show," his tone laced with irritation. "I’m tired of the bullshit people have been pulling behind our backs."

And there it is—the real reason for all of this. While digging into Yifan’s movements and the suspicious behaviour of a few of our directors, we’ve uncovered an unsettling plan. Yifan, along with some other snakes, is colluding to push me out of my position as CEO and appoint a new one through re-vote.

****

A week before....

Feng Enterprises

I sit at the head of the boardroom table, staring at the man newly appointed as one of Feng Enterprises’ directors. Yang Yifan. His presence here is as welcome as a storm at sea. Mr. Chu, one of the largest shareholders, announced his abrupt retirement during the meeting and proposed his son-in-law as his replacement. Apparently, Yifan didn’t just date his daughter—he married her in Vegas to keep it all hush-hush while scheming his way into this role.

I’m not shocked he managed to secure nine votes in his favor. Mr. Chu has held a grudge against me ever since I refused his daughter when he tried to set us up. Now he’s served this snake on a silver platter to the board.

Once the meeting concludes, I excuse myself, uninterested in the handshakes and ass-kissing that follow. It’s all smoke and mirrors. I head to my office, needing space to think, but my peace is short-lived.

Yifan walks in unannounced, not bothering to knock. His smug smirk grates on my nerves as he surveys my office, his eyes trailing over the leather chairs, the sleek desk, and the view of the city skyline.

"The legendary office of the CEO, where your grandfather, father, and Jianyu once ruled this company until—" He stops himself, but I catch the implication loud and clear: Until you came along.

I don’t rise to the bait, though his audacity is borderline amusing. Does he forget that he got here by stealing my project?

"How’s Star Securities doing these days?" I lean back in my chair. "Or did you finally decide to shut it down after five consecutive years of losses?"

Take that asshole.

His smug demeanour cracks. Star Securities. The company he started by taking my idea, only for Jianyu to dismantle it in two days. A sore spot for him.

"Don’t worry, Jun, I’ll return the favor soon."

He picks up the paperweight on my desk and spins it idly like he owns the place. "Tell me, if you ever get toppled as CEO, will you run crying to Jianyu again?"

"If I don’t handle this company, who else will? You?" I grin. "The guy who needs to steal projects and crawl into the beds of rich heiresses to save his sorry ass?"

His smirk vanishes, replaced by a hard glare. "At least I’m doing something, unlike some people, who are born with the name Feng and handed a multi-billion-dollar business on a silver plate."

I’ve heard this before, countless times. The jabs, the insinuations. I’ve grown thick-skinned to it all. And honestly? I know my worth.

"I was given the company when it was worth $90 billion. And today? Its market value stands at $200 billion."

Yifan’s lips twitch, but he doesn’t interrupt.

"once upon a time, you and your late wife had a net worth of $23 billion. Now? It’s sitting pretty at $23 million."

His jaw clenches. A hit right where it hurts. The truth doesn’t need sugarcoating. "Numbers don’t lie. And neither do legacies. That’s why I’m here."

I stand, adjusting my suit jacket with deliberate ease. I step closer, locking eyes with him. "And why you’ll always be scrambling to catch up."

I press the button and Ireine comes in knocking. "Please escort Mr. Yifan out."

"You have already fucked up, Jun. Soon, you will be out of here. That’s a promise."

"I’ll look forward to it."

Once Yifan leaves, his words keep looping in my mind. Something about his smug confidence—it unsettles me.

My phone’s ring break my chain of thoughts...

"Hello?"

"Mr. Feng." The voice on the other end is female, calm, and composed. "I need to speak with you. It’s urgent."

I lean forward. "And you are?"

"Let’s just say I’m someone who doesn’t want to see Yifan win."

I check the number, it’s private. "How did you get my number?"

"From my dead sister’s diary."

*****