เข้าสู่ระบบแชร์
Telling the Billionaire
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2026-09-20 20:06:07
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His Contract, Her Revenge The Family Portrait
Chapter 61Bailey's POVThe vaulted ceilings of the grand hall at Crest Tower echoed with a soft, respectful murmur. Sunlight streamed through the towering stained-glass windows, casting long, golden shafts across the polished marble floors where history had once been written in cold ambition, corporate blood, and fear. For decades, the walls of this monumental room had displayed severe, unsmiling portraits of past executives—men who valued power above human life and treated a family name like a balance sheet. Today, we were rewriting the entire legacy.A sharp, familiar flutter of self-consciousness tightened in my chest. Standing near the center of the vast hall beneath a massive, cloth-draped canvas, I smoothed down the fabric of my emerald silk dress. Even now, holding fifty-two percent of the conglomerate and having survived every trap laid for us, standing before an assembly of our employees felt raw. Part of my mind whispered phantom warnings—what if the cold ghosts of the past
His Contract, Her Revenge A Letter to the Past
Chapter 60Bailey's POVThe tip of the fountain pen scratched furiously against the heavy parchment, the ink bleeding into the fibers as my hand shook. Standing out on the edge of the coastal cliff behind the villa, the cold evening wind whipped my hair across my face, carrying the sharp, salty smell of the ocean below. Eight years. For eight agonizing years, I had carried a mountain of unspoken words, crushing grief, and unrelenting trauma locked deep inside my ribs. Eight years of running, hiding, surviving, and wrestling with ghosts that refused to let me sleep.A sharp, heavy knot of conflict twisted tight in my throat. My fingers trembled so violently I had to stop writing for a second, staring down at the ink-stained paper. Part of my mind screamed warnings—what if letting go of the pain meant letting go of the memory of my father? What if the anger and the grief were the only armor I had left to protect myself?"You don't have to rush it, Bailey," a low, gravelly voice murmured
His Contract, Her Revenge The Old District Dedication
Chapter 59Bailey's POVThe autumn wind swept across the newly paved cobblestones of the Old District, carrying the sweet smell of roasting chestnuts, fresh bread, and the lively sounds of a neighborhood that had finally come back to life. I stood beneath a grand, silk-draped banner stretched across the center of the square as the morning sun washed everything in warm, golden light.Six months ago, this same street had been a forgotten alley, choked by poverty and overshadowed by the corrupt empire of Frank Crest. Today, it was filled with music, laughter, and cheering crowds.At the center of the square stood a tall, polished stone monument with a freshly engraved bronze plaque: Clara Square.A familiar knot of vulnerability tightened in my chest.I looked out at the hundreds of smiling faces—families gathered together, children playing near the new clinic, and elderly residents standing arm-in-arm. For a moment, the past seemed to whisper at the back of my mind.I remembered running
His Contract, Her Revenge Returning to the Villa with Clara
Chapter 58Bailey's POVThe heavy iron gates of the coastal villa swung open smoothly, welcoming us home. Three days ago, leaving this place had meant plunging into a midnight storm of panic and pain. Today, returning through those same gates felt like stepping into a completely new world.I rested my head against the cool leather headrest of the Maybach, looking out the window as the sleek car made its way up the coastal drive. The vast ocean stretched endlessly to our left, sparkling beneath the bright autumn sun, while the white stucco walls of the villa rose ahead of us, surrounded by lush green gardens and colorful coastal flowers.A familiar knot of vulnerability tightened briefly in my chest. For so long, this estate had felt like a golden cage—a heavily fortified fortress where we had hidden from hitmen, corporate spies, and the dark shadow of Frank Crest. Looking at it now, surrounded by the quiet hum of the car, all of that felt a million miles away.Beside me, Raven moved w
His Contract, Her Revenge Clara Lockett Crest
Chapter 57Bailey's POVThe sharp cries of the newborn filled the delivery suite, a sound so bright and alive that it washed away the memory of every shadow, every bullet, and every tear we had ever shed.My chest heaved as I lay back against the damp pillows, my body trembling with exhaustion. Every muscle felt weak and sore after the long, difficult labor.For a terrifying second, as the nurses moved quickly around the foot of the bed, a knot of dread tightened in my chest.What if something was wrong? What if the sudden quiet after all that pain meant the danger wasn't really over?Raven was frozen beside me, his breathing shallow and uneven. His broad shoulders were tense beneath his sweat-soaked scrubs, his dark grey eyes fixed on the small bundle in the doctor's arms with a mixture of fear and hope.He didn't care about the corporate empire, the towers, or the billions in assets anymore. His entire world had narrowed down to the tiny life that had just entered it.Then the nurse
His Contract, Her Revenge The Delivery Room
Chapter 56Bailey's POVThe sterile white lights of the delivery suite felt like needles pressing into my burning eyes. Every muscle in my body trembled, exhausted and stretched to its absolute limit as another brutal wave of labor tore through my frame. Five hours. For five endless hours, time had dissolved into a blur of blinding pain, ragged breaths, and the relentless ticking of the wall clock.A sharp knot of doubt twisted tight in my chest. My strength was completely gone. Every breath felt shallow, starved of oxygen, and a terrifying, cold whisper at the back of my mind told me I couldn't push through the next wave. What if my body gave out? What if the darkness finally won?"Look at me, Bailey. Stay with me," a voice broke through the ringing in my ears.Raven was right beside me. He hadn't left my side for a single second. He hadn't stepped out to call the board, he hadn't let go of my hand, and he hadn't allowed a single nurse to push him back. Dressed in sterile scrubs that
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