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CHAPTER 15
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2025-09-17 06:13:31
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FALLING FOR THE COLD BILLIONAIRE NEXT DOOR CHAPTER 45
VincentThe message had been short.We need to talk.Three words that had burned a hole into my chest the moment I typed them.I’d stared at the screen for a long time before sending it, my thumb hovering, my pride screaming at me not to look weak. But pride had lost the battle when I realized silence would only push her further away.So, at 7 p.m., Vivian walked into my office.I hadn’t known what to expect when I texted her. Anger? Tears? Or worse—indifference. But when the elevator doors opened and she stepped into the room, she carried herself with that mix of elegance and vulnerability that made my heart ache.The city lights behind me turned the glass walls into mirrors of her hesitation. Her cautious, guarded eyes flicked to mine.“Vivian,” I said, my voice betraying more than I wanted.She listened. She let me pour out everything I had been too stubborn to admit—the mistrust, the fear, the way I had lashed out without giving her a chance. My past is bleeding into our present.
FALLING FOR THE COLD BILLIONAIRE NEXT DOOR CHAPTER 44
Vivian The words still burned on my screen.We need to talk.For hours, I had stared at them without answering. My chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, my mind torn between slamming the phone down or running straight to him. Every time my thumb hovered over the keyboard, my heart screamed at me to type something, but my pride, my anger, and the sting of betrayal held me back.It was almost funny. I had barely known Vincent Evans for a few months, and yet here I was—paralyzed by one text, as if my whole world depended on it.The apartment didn’t feel so quiet tonight.From the kitchen came the steady rhythm of chopping, the hiss of oil, and the faint hum of a song Yvonne was singing off-key. The air smelled rich and layered—savory garlic, sesame, something peppery riding on the steam.I shifted on the couch, clutching my phone tighter. My stomach gave a small, traitorous growl, and finally I raised my voice.“What are you even cooking in there?”Yvonne peeked her head around t
FALLING FOR THE COLD BILLIONAIRE NEXT DOOR CHAPTER 43
VivianThe sketches lay neatly across my desk, seven designs that had carried me through restless nights. I traced my fingers over the lines one last time, the edges smudged faintly from how often I’d touched them. My chest lifted with quiet resolve.I picked up my phone.When Madam Bello answered, her tone was brisk as always.“I’m ready,” I said softly. “I want to meet Mr. Goh. Let’s start production.”There was a pause on the line, then her firm reply: “Good. I’ll pick you up.”⸻The car ride was silent at first, just the faint hum of the city outside. I stared out the window, watching Avron pass in streaks of gray and glass. My thoughts were heavy, circling the chaos of the past few days.Madam Bello didn’t bother with pleasantries. She wasn’t the type. Her silence wasn’t empty though—it pressed, steady, like a weight that kept me from drifting.“You’ve been hiding long enough,” she said finally. Her words cut through the quiet, clear and uncompromising. “If you let gossip decide
FALLING FOR THE COLD BILLIONAIRE NEXT DOOR CHAPTER 42
VincentMy phone hadn’t stopped buzzing since dawn. Messages, missed calls, notifications stacked one after the other until I wanted to smash the thing against the wall. But the noise wasn’t the worst part.The worst part was the look on Vivian’s face when I left that morning.I could still see her—standing there, dripping from the cleanser she was about to apply to her face, eyes wide and shining with tears she tried to hold back. Her voice had cracked when she shouted he was her father, not another man. And instead of reaching for her, instead of believing her, I had walked away.The image burned behind my eyelids, heavier than the phone rattling across my desk now.The door swung open without warning. Damon stepped in, calm as always, but his posture was tighter than usual. And behind him—Aurora.Seventeen years old, fiery as ever, she didn’t wait for permission. “Vincent Kim, what the hell is wrong with you?”I leaned back in my chair, exhaling slowly. Surprised? No. Tired? Absolu
FALLING FOR THE COLD BILLIONAIRE NEXT DOOR CHAPTER 41
VivianI sat curled on the couch, knees pulled to my chest, staring at the blank wall across from me. The apartment was quiet—too quiet.The silence pressed down on me, heavier than I expected. I had thought moving back here would bring me comfort, but instead, it felt foreign, like I didn’t belong here anymore. Maybe it was because I had already gotten used to Vincent’s place—his messy notes on the counter, the faint smell of his cologne lingering on the couch, the sound of him moving around in the mornings. That had started to feel like home.Now, everything felt cold. Empty.The soft beep of the door unlocking jolted me from my thoughts. Only one person knew my passcode.“Vivian!” Yvonne’s voice filled the space before I even turned my head. She barreled inside, eyes wide, hair a little messy like she had been running. “Turn on your TV right now!”I blinked. “What—”“No questions! Just do it!”Her urgency sent my pulse racing. With shaky fingers, I grabbed the remote and pressed th
FALLING FOR THE COLD BILLIONAIRE NEXT DOOR CHAPTER 40
Vivian I was sitting by my vanity, my face damp from washing, a gentle cleanser still foaming at the edges of my fingers, when my phone buzzed. Yvonne’s name flashed on the screen.“Vivian—what the hell is going on?” Her voice came sharp and urgent through the speaker.I frowned. “Good morning to you too.”“Don’t play dumb,” she snapped. “Articles are everywhere. They’re saying you’re cheating on Vincent.”My heart stopped. “What?”“Check your socials. Just do it,” Yvonne said.I scrambled for my phone, damp hands slipping over the edges. And there it was—headlines screaming my name, paired with blurry photos: me walking beside a man at the photography exhibition, another at Blanc, and one outside my apartment building.Vivian Kim was spotted with a mysterious man late at night.Is Vincent Evans being cheated on?I sank. “That’s my dad,” I whispered. “Daniel Han. My father.”There was a long pause. Then Yvonne’s voice cracked. “Wait… what? Your dad?”I swallowed hard. “Yes. I haven’t
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