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Threads Of Dilemma
Last Updated:
2025-04-12 22:25:16
Latest chapter
Beneath The Billionaire's Veil Little Family Secrets
I blinked at Alexander, stunned by the sharpness of his question. The man who had been unexpectedly kind to me at the gala now seemed replaced by the one I’d first met—cold and unyielding.“I went to see my mother,” I replied evenly, forcing my voice to remain calm even as his piercing gaze bore into me.His brow arched, and a humorless laugh escaped his lips. “Your mother?” he repeated, his tone dripping with disbelief. “Or was it someone else you were so eager to meet?”My heart skipped a beat, and my mind immediately raced to Marco. Did he somehow know? Was it written all over my face?“I don’t understand what you’re insinuating,” I said, crossing my arms to shield myself from the accusatory edge in his voice.“Oh, come on, Isabella,” he snapped, taking a step closer. His towering figure seemed to darken the doorway. “Do you think I don’t see what’s going on? The way you linger at every mention of him, the way your face betrays every thought.”“Alexander,” I said, trying to remain
Beneath The Billionaire's Veil Threads Of Guilt
The morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, painting patterns on the walls. I blinked awake, the weight of the previous night still pressing heavily on my chest. The gala, with its whirlwind of emotions, felt like a distant memory yet fresh enough to haunt me. Marco’s face lingered in my mind. His eyes, the way they bore into mine, spoke volumes of unspoken words.I sighed and reached for my phone on the bedside table. A dull ache filled me as I remembered losing my old phone and, with it, Marco’s number. But the events of the gala had rekindled an ache to bridge the gap between us. I opened a messaging app and hesitated before typing a message to the number he gave me the other night:*Hi, Marco. It’s Isabella. I hope you’re doing okay. Let me know when we can talk.*The text felt inadequate, but I hit send before I could overthink it further. Placing the phone down, I swung my legs over the bed and stretched.After a quick shower and breakfast, I decided to visit my mother.
Beneath The Billionaire's Veil The Weight Of A Legacy
ALEXANDER'S POV My father’s words had a way of echoing long after they were spoken, each syllable sharp and deliberate, like a blade dragging through stone. As I sat in my room, staring blankly at the city lights spilling in through the tall windows, I could still hear his voice from the gala last night, judging Isabella.And me.It wasn’t anger I felt—it was something worse. A hollow ache. I clenched my fists, my nails biting into my palms as I thought about the woman downstairs, alone in a house that had never welcomed her.I had never been good with emotions. That wasn’t what Presleys did. My mother was the only one who had ever shown me how to care for someone, and she was gone before I could understand how much I needed her lessons. My father, on the other hand, had taught me to focus on one thing and one thing only: the family empire.Feelings were liabilities. Relationships were distractions. And love? Love was a foolish fairy tale meant for those who didn’t have empires to r
Beneath The Billionaire's Veil A Test Of Loyalties
I sat motionless in my chair as Marco's name was called out, echoing in my ears. My pulse was racing out of control as my fists grasped the hem of my silk dress.Why was his name being called out so solemnly, and how the heck did he get here? With a serene assurance radiating from each step, I observed Marco coming up the stage.He commanded the attention of everyone in the opulent ballroom as he stood in front of the podium. Marco said, "Good evening, esteemed guests,"his deep voice effortlessly rising above the muttering of the audience. He continued "Being asked to speak at this gala is an honor. I'm here to highlight how chances that reshape our lives can arise from the challenges we experience, even if my path as an art designer has been anything but typical".As I tried to take in the words, I blinked. A struggling art designer? When had Marco developed into such a polished speaker, addressing a crowd filled with elites like he belonged here?Alexander, who was sitting next to
Beneath The Billionaire's Veil The Couples Gala
Sunlight streamed through the thick curtains, but it brought no warmth. I lay still, my mind tangled in the events of the previous day. Marco. His face had been a mirror of emotions—relief, surprise, and something deeper I couldn’t name.Guilt clawed at me as I thought back to our conversation. I hadn’t even taken his number. My old phone, lost on my wedding day, had erased every connection to my past life. And now, standing in the shoes of a Presley’s wife, reconnecting felt almost impossible.The memory of him being thrown out of the estate that day haunted me. The humiliation he’d faced, the cruel laughter of strangers—how could I have let that happen? A wave of regret surged through me.I whispered to myself, “I just wanted to feel close to him again, but being Mrs. Presley... it’s a cage.”A knock on the door snapped me out of my thoughts. Before I could answer, the maids entered, their cheerful chatter filling the room.“Good morning, Mrs. Presley,” one said, setting a breakfast
Beneath The Billionaire's Veil A Billionaire's Gesture
Marco stood before me, his expression a blend of shock and something softer—relief, perhaps. My heart raced as the weight of the moment settled over us. Time felt like it stretched infinitely, and for a brief second, nothing else existed.Without thinking, I threw my arms around him. He hesitated only a second before his arms wrapped tightly around me, pulling me into a warm, familiar embrace. The scent of him—faint cologne and something uniquely Marco—tugged at memories I had buried long ago.“Marco,” I whispered, barely audible.“I can’t believe it,” he murmured against my hair. “Isabella...”The sound of my name in his voice sent a pang through my chest. It was as if no time had passed and yet, everything had changed.Around us, hushed murmurs and the shuffling of footsteps reminded me we weren’t alone. I pulled back, suddenly aware of the curious stares from my colleagues. Marco’s hands lingered briefly on my shoulders before he let them drop.“I... I didn’t know you worked here,
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