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Whispers in a Gilded Cage
Last Updated:
2025-06-12 00:17:16
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Betrayed by Blood, Saved by a Billionaire Protecting Skye
The drive back from the Sterling ancestral estate was mostly silent, but it was a different kind of silence than usual. Not awkward, not charged with unspoken attraction, but heavy. Heavy with the fallout from Genevieve’s weekend-long campaign of social assassination. I kept replaying moments in my head – Cassandra’s condescending smiles, Genevieve’s pitying pronouncements, my own fumbling attempts to look like I belonged. It was exhausting just thinking about it.Alexander stared out the window, his jaw tight, that muscle working overtime again. I wondered what he was thinking. Was he regretting this whole insane arrangement? Was he finally seeing what his mother and Cassandra so clearly wanted him to see – that I was a liability, a mistake?When we finally got back to the blessedly modern, blessedly Genevieve-free zone of the penthouse, I was ready to just crawl into bed and hide under the covers for a week. But Alexander followed me into the living room.“Skye,” he said, his voice
Betrayed by Blood, Saved by a Billionaire His Mother's Next Move
The almost-confession in the library hung between Alexander and me like a shimmering, invisible thread. Things weren’t magically fixed – he was still a billionaire with a corporate empire to run and enemies to fight, and I was still his fake fiancée caught in a web of lies and family drama. But something fundamental had changed. That shared moment of vulnerability, his admission that our burnt grilled cheese sandwich had been "the most real" he’d felt in ages… it was a crack in the wall, a glimpse of something genuine beneath the surface of our crazy arrangement.The unspoken attraction was now… spoken. Well, almost. And it made everything both more exciting and a million times more terrifying.Alexander threw himself back into his war with Marcus Thorne with a renewed, almost ferocious energy. I barely saw him. But the brief moments we did share – a quick glance across a room, a quiet "good morning" over coffee – were charged with a new intensity. It was like we were both hyper-aware
Betrayed by Blood, Saved by a Billionaire Late Night Confessions
The almost-moment in the kitchen with Alexander and the slightly-burnt grilled cheese replayed in my head for days. That look in his eyes, the way his hand had hovered so close to mine, the raw, unspoken something that had crackled between us before his phone shattered it all… It was like a song stuck on repeat, a melody of "what ifs" and "almosts."He’d been even more immersed in his work since that night, the battle with Marcus Thorne clearly escalating. He was a whirlwind of tense meetings, late-night calls, and that same weary, burdened look I’d seen before. We barely saw each other, and when we did, it was usually just a fleeting glimpse as he strode through the penthouse, his mind clearly a million miles away, wrestling with corporate dragons.The unspoken attraction, though, hadn’t faded. If anything, the distance, the near-misses, only seemed to amplify it. It was like a magnetic pull, a constant awareness of his presence (or absence) that hummed beneath the surface of my care
Betrayed by Blood, Saved by a Billionaire One Step Closer
The unspoken attraction between Alexander and me was like a live wire humming in the air of the penthouse. Every accidental touch, every lingering glance, felt magnified, supercharged. It was exhausting, exhilarating, and made concentrating on anything else – like, say, Evangeline’s lessons on "projecting effortless Sterling sophistication at polo matches" (because apparently, that was a thing I needed to know) – practically impossible.He was still Mr. Control, mostly. The cool, collected billionaire CEO. But I kept seeing those little cracks in his armor. The way his eyes would soften when he thought I wasn’t looking. The almost imperceptible hesitation before he’d pull his hand away after one of our "for public consumption only" touches. Or the way he’d find excuses to be in the same room as me, even if we didn’t talk much, just… existing in the same space. It was driving me crazy. In a good way? Maybe. In a terrifying "this is going to blow up in my face" way? Definitely.My art w
Betrayed by Blood, Saved by a Billionaire The Unspoken Attraction
Alexander’s words from the night he returned from Zurich – “You are rapidly becoming… something more, Skye. Something I hadn’t factored into my calculations at all.” – echoed in my head for days. That, and the memory of his fingers tracing my jaw, the unexpected tenderness in his eyes. It was like a switch had been flipped. The air between us, already charged with the weirdness of our fake engagement, was now crackling with a whole new kind of electricity. An unspoken, undeniable attraction that was both terrifying and ridiculously thrilling.Suddenly, the vast penthouse felt a lot smaller.Every accidental brush of our hands as we reached for the same coffee pot in the morning sent a jolt through me. Every time our eyes met across the dinner table – even during those stiff, "for the staff" meals – there was a new intensity, a silent conversation happening that had nothing to do with the weather or his latest business deal. He wasn’t just my fake billionaire fiancé anymore. He was… Al
Betrayed by Blood, Saved by a Billionaire A Secret Shared
I practically sprinted back to my suite – because calling it just a "bedroom" felt like a massive understatement – my heart still doing a nervous tap dance against my ribs. Genevieve and Cassandra. Together. In Alexander’s living room. It was like a tag team of perfectly dressed, Chanel-scented doom. The thought of Alexander walking in on that scene… I wasn’t sure if I was relieved he’d missed it or terrified of what his mother might have said to him if she’d caught him before I did.I had about fifteen minutes before his ETA. Not enough time to magically transform into the serene, confident fiancée Evangeline was trying to sculpt me into, but enough to splash some cold water on my face and try to look like I hadn’t just been mentally sparring with two queen bees.When I heard the distinct sound of the private elevator doors opening down the hall, followed by Alexander’s low, authoritative voice speaking to what sounded like Amelia Thorne, my stomach did another nervous flip. He was b
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