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Chapter 44
Last Updated:
2025-11-07 00:35:01
Latest chapter
Billionaire’s Pretend Wife To Be Chapter 45
The atmosphere in the East Wing felt oppressive, heavy with the phantom weight of Alessandro’s presence, even though he was barricaded in his West Penthouse office. His corporate email, delivered by Ms. Thorne, had successfully reduced the scorching intimacy of the kiss to a "lapsed professional discipline." His retreat was absolute, and I was left staring at the wreckage of my own self-control.He had to destroy it. He had to reduce the passion to policy because the alternative, the truth of that hunger, threatened the fortress he built. And I am terrified because his denial doesn't make the feeling any less real. I don't hate him anymore. I love the cold, terrifying strength of him, the way he fights himself. That is the true danger.I lay in the massive, silken bed, the vastness of the room echoing the emptiness in my chest. Sleep was a slippery thing, punctuated by flashes of the Gala, the chilling tone of his phone call, and the paralyzing fear that I had risked everything, Leo's
Billionaire’s Pretend Wife To Be Chapter 44
The air in the Manor, thick with the unaddressed tension of the kiss and Alessandro's panicked retreat, was fertile ground for manipulation. While Alessandro was burying himself in his West Penthouse office, denying the very existence of sentiment, Victoria was observing the fault lines he’d created. She had seen the raw, unplanned fury of his defense during the family dinner, and she had certainly heard the gossip about the "spontaneous" Gala kiss.Her target wasn't me; it was Lucas.Two days after Alessandro's cold phone call, Lucas hosted a small, self-pitying lunch in his private apartment, complete with several open bottles of expensive, unappreciated wine. I had been dragged into attendance, ostensibly to discuss his latest programming project, but mostly to listen to his woes about his cousin's crushing success.Victoria arrived precisely at the moment Lucas was venting about the unfairness of the Conti name. She was dressed impeccably, a picture of sympathetic concern."Oh, Lu
Billionaire’s Pretend Wife To Be Chapter 43
Alessandro returned from Singapore late Thursday evening, not with the fanfare of the Gulfstream, but quietly, having routed his travel through a smaller, private terminal. The suddenness of his appearance was matched only by the immediate, suffocating chill he brought back with him. He was a man drowning in his own forced composure. The memory of the kiss, now officially categorized by his legal counsel as a "strategic maneuver," was a raw wound he was desperately trying to suture with work and ice.The contract is the truth. The ten million is the truth. The kiss was a temporary, biological flaw in the structure. I purged the vulnerability, I disciplined the asset, and now I reinforce the walls. I cannot allow the confusion of her eyes, or the softness of her touch, to dismantle seven years of careful, calculated control. The threat is not Lucas; the threat is the light she brings.He had barely stepped into his private office when the familiar chime of the internal Manor phone requ
Billionaire’s Pretend Wife To Be Chapter 42
The morning after the Founders’ Day Gala was silent—a thick, unnerving silence that seemed to have swallowed the entire North Wing. I woke up with the ghosts of Alessandro's lips on mine, the silver dress tossed onto the chaise lounge, and the sickening knowledge that I had completely lost control of the one thing I was supposed to guard: my heart.It was a kiss. A purely physical, passionate, uncontrolled breach of contract. It meant nothing. He was stressed. He was performing. He was trying to prove a point to Victoria. It was a chemical reaction, not a confession. If I believe anything else, I lose everything—the ten million, Leo's future, and whatever fragile emotional autonomy I have left.But the lie was paper-thin. When he had pulled me close, there was no camera in his eyes, only fire.I spent the morning pacing the perimeter of my wing. Leo was happily absorbed in the observatory with his new spectral analysis charts, making my need to process this alone even more acute. I ne
Billionaire’s Pretend Wife To Be Chapter 41
The Contis were hosting the annual Founders’ Day Gala, a mandatory, glittering display of corporate success and familial cohesion, designed purely for the cameras and the shareholders. Following the intimacy of the scar and the fraught conversation in the East Wing, the thought of playing the adoring wife under the full glare of the media was almost paralyzing.I felt like an actress being pushed onto a stage without a script. The rules of our relationship changed nightly, shifting from cold disdain to shared vulnerability, only to be snapped back into transactional reality by the threat of the contract.The man who held my throat last night, whispering about finding comfort in the "uncontrollable variable," is the same man who is about to use me as a prop for his stock price. I hate the lie, but I hate the confusing, genuine thrill of being near him even more. He's making me crave the performance because, in public, he allows himself to touch me.I stood in the massive, mirrored foye
Billionaire’s Pretend Wife To Be Chapter 40
The Manor had developed a new, bewildering atmosphere since the San Juan trip and the shocking intimacy of the scar. Alessandro had maintained his professional distance during the flight, but upon returning, his routine had fractured. He hadn't retreated entirely to the West Penthouse. Instead, the East Wing, my territory, and Leo's, had become a strangely magnetic hub for his presence.He started small. A fleeting presence in the North Wing when Leo was having his post-dinner cocoa, offering a concise summary of the day’s astronomical news from the Astrophysical Journal. Then, a casual request for my input on a new design feature for the Manor's security gate, pure business, but conducted while leaning against the frame of my living area.Tonight, the blurring was complete.It was nearly midnight. Leo was fast asleep, the scent of the sea and salt still faint on his pillow. I was curled on the window seat in my living room, nursing a cup of herbal tea and trying to process the emotio
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