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In His Arms
Huling Na-update:
2025-09-11 07:01:53SEIRRA'S POINT OF VIEW
I don’t know how I ended up laughing so hard, sprawled across Liam Foster’s massive couch with my head tilted back, cheeks aching, but that’s what love does—it sneaks in when you least expect it. James and Becca had just left, their exit filled with ridiculous inside jokes and Becca winking at me like she knew exactly what she was leaving me with. And maybe she did. Because the minute the front door closed behind them, the silence between Liam and me wasn’t awkward. It was warm, thick, alive. He slid closer on the couch, his arm draped lazily behind me. “Finally,” he murmured, tilting his head toward mine. “We’re alone.” I chuckled, pushing his shoulder lightly. “Alone for what? Don’t get any funny ideas, Foster. I still have work tomorrow.” “Work?” He groaned dramatically, clutching his chest like I’d just stabbed him. “You’re telling me that af
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Billionairess By Survival Soft side
LIAM'S POINT OF VIEW The next morning, I walked into the office, and it felt as though the entire atmosphere had shifted. Maybe it wasn’t the office that had changed—it was me. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel weighed down by numbers, strategies, or boardroom politics. I felt lighter, as if my chest wasn’t carrying the invisible boulder I had been dragging around for years. The automatic glass doors slid open, and I stepped into the lobby of Foster Enterprises, the company I had inherited, nurtured, and bled for. The air smelled of polished marble, cologne, and ambition—the scent of power. My employees, dressed in their sharp suits and dresses, moved around with the brisk efficiency of a company that thrived under pressure. “Good morning, Mr. Foster,” one of the receptionists greeted, her eyes lighting up in a way I didn’t notice before. Another staff member echoed, “Morning, sir.” I returned
Billionairess By Survival In His Arms
SEIRRA'S POINT OF VIEW I don’t know how I ended up laughing so hard, sprawled across Liam Foster’s massive couch with my head tilted back, cheeks aching, but that’s what love does—it sneaks in when you least expect it. James and Becca had just left, their exit filled with ridiculous inside jokes and Becca winking at me like she knew exactly what she was leaving me with. And maybe she did. Because the minute the front door closed behind them, the silence between Liam and me wasn’t awkward. It was warm, thick, alive. He slid closer on the couch, his arm draped lazily behind me. “Finally,” he murmured, tilting his head toward mine. “We’re alone.” I chuckled, pushing his shoulder lightly. “Alone for what? Don’t get any funny ideas, Foster. I still have work tomorrow.” “Work?” He groaned dramatically, clutching his chest like I’d just stabbed him. “You’re telling me that af
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TESSA'S POINT OF VIEW I don’t know what it was about Logan today, but something snapped inside me. The way he acted in the mall, all casual, all collected, like the world revolved around him and whatever woman he decided to look at for two seconds—ugh. I couldn’t shake the irritation that coiled in my chest. As soon as we got home, I tossed my designer purse onto the white velvet couch and kicked off my stilettos like they were poison. “Logan,” I called out, voice sharp. “We need to talk.” He was at the bar, pouring himself a glass of scotch like always, pretending he didn’t hear the venom dripping from my tone. Typical Logan. Always playing it cool. I stalked across the room, my heels clicking against the marble floor even though I was barefoot now. I slammed my hand against the counter, making the glass wobble. “What’s your deal?” He raised a brow lazily, sipping his
Billionairess By Survival Happier
SEIRRA'S POINT OF VIEW Walking into the mall with Liam after that awful run-in with Logan and Tessa felt like a breath of fresh air. My heart was still racing from the confrontation, but Liam’s hand on my waist grounded me. He always did. It was like his touch had this invisible way of pulling me back to the present, reminding me that I wasn’t that broken woman anymore. I wasn’t the girl Logan discarded, nor the one who cried herself to sleep every night. I was Seirra, and I had Liam. “Want to head straight to the ice cream stand, or you want to check out the bookstore first?” Liam asked, glancing down at me with that soft smile that always made me forget my troubles. I laughed. “You really think I can concentrate on books when I’ve already imagined chocolate chip melting in my mouth?” He grinned, tightening his arm around me as though he wanted the
Billionairess By Survival Collision and Cold stones
SEIRRA'S POINT OF VIEW It was supposed to be simple. Just ice cream. After everything that had happened—the sleepless nights, the breakdowns, the messy explanations, the rebuilding—I told myself it was fine to want something simple again. A cone in one hand, Liam’s hand in the other. A reminder that I wasn’t just Seirra Morgan, CEO of Morgan Enterprises, survivor of heartbreak and betrayal. I was still a woman who could laugh, taste strawberry swirl, and let someone hold me without feeling like I was about to shatter. The late afternoon sun was warm as we parked near the strip. I tucked my hair behind my ear, feeling oddly lighthearted, almost girlish. “Ice cream?” I teased, shooting Liam a look as we got out of the car. “That’s the date you plan for me?” He grinned, that lopsided grin that made his eyes crinkle. “You like simple, don’t lie. Besides, I’m not about to risk your wrath if I pick a five-star res
Billionairess By Survival Watch me win, Morgan.
LOGAN'S POINT OF VIEW The sound of muffled footsteps and hurried chatter roused me from sleep. At first, I thought I was dreaming, but when I blinked my eyes open, the truth hit me — the house was alive, buzzing like a hive. Assistants rushed around, decorators carried in flowers, planners barked orders on phones. Our wedding prep was in full swing, and it seemed like half of California had suddenly squeezed into my living room.I dragged myself upright, rubbing my eyes. My head still carried that dull throb from last night’s argument with Tessa. For a moment, I almost let myself groan out loud — but then my eyes landed on her.There she was, perched gracefully in front of a massive mirror, head tilted slightly as she carefully reapplied a glossy nude shade of lipstick. Her hair was perfectly curled, cascading down like a model from a bridal magazine. She caught me watching her and smirked at my reflection before puckering her lips at her own im
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