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Chapter Twenty-Six
Last Updated:
2024-01-27 09:30:19
Sam VelasquezYour votes and comments are very much appreciated. It makes me motivated to write and know your feelings. Thank you!
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I Kissed The Billionaire Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Eight.The grand doors of the Palazzo Atrium swung open with a slow, ominous creak, revealing a world cloaked in shimmering illusions and deadly secrets. The moment I crossed the threshold, I felt it—the weight of a thousand unspoken threats, like shadows pressing against my skin, whispering promises of betrayal. Every breath I took was thick with the scent of polished marble, expensive perfume, and something darker—danger lurking behind the glittering facade.This wasn’t just a gala. It was a war zone dressed in black tie and silk.The ceilings soared high above, draped with chandeliers that sparkled like frozen stars, casting fractured light over the room’s decadence. Strings of violins played a haunting nocturne—melodies that seemed to crawl beneath my skin, whispering secrets of greed, power, and bloodshed. The crowd moved like a wave of silk and diamonds, each face masked in civility but eyes flickering with hidden hostility. Here, every smile was a dagger, every gl
I Kissed The Billionaire Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Seven.The night was thick with silence, broken only by the distant, rhythmic toll of a church bell echoing midnight through the shadowed streets of San Sebastian. The city seemed to hold its breath, waiting. I moved through the alleys like a ghost, my footsteps muffled by the damp cobblestones, the chill of the air seeping into my bones. Every breath tasted of salt and smoke, remnants of a city that had long since buried its scars beneath layers of decay and secrets.The destination was a forgotten relic—an antique bookstore tucked away in a crumbling alley, its façade battered and obscured by years of neglect. Once, perhaps, it was a place of warmth, of stories shared between pages—now, it was a hollow shell, a tomb of faded memories. But tonight, it would serve as my sanctuary, my battleground, my confessional.I pushed open the heavy, splintered door. It groaned loudly, protesting its age, and the air inside was thick with dust and the smell of old paper—ghost storie
I Kissed The Billionaire Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-SixI didn’t sleep that night—not because I couldn’t, but because I simply didn’t dare. The weight of what I’d uncovered pressed down on me like a suffocating shroud. Every second spent in restless silence, my mind replayed the images from the files, the implications swirling in a storm of dread and anticipation. Each folder was a fragile thread, and together they formed a noose—one that threatened to tighten around everyone I knew, everyone I loved. My mother had meticulously collected the secrets of powerful giants—those who ruled from shadows, whose influence extended into governments, military corridors, and clandestine corporations. Now I sat in her war room, clutching her arsenal of secrets, wondering if I was prepared to pull the trigger.The morning brought no relief. Randall was unusually quiet, almost like a coiled spring. We ate breakfast in tense silence—me with my coffee, him with his green tea. The atmosphere was thick, stretched taut between us, an invisib
I Kissed The Billionaire Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Five.The air still clung with the acrid scent of burnt paper, charred wood, and secrets smoldering in the shadows. It pressed into my skin, heavy and unrelenting, like a tangible reminder of everything that had been lost—and everything I might still find.I pulled my scarf tighter around my mouth, the fabric thick and rough against my skin, filtering the worst of the smoke as I stepped carefully across the threshold of what once was the Hall Corporation’s most clandestine archive. The building had been a fortress of silence—walls lined with guarded secrets, files stacked like armor. Now, it was a skeleton, a ruin that whispered stories in the crackle of burning beams and falling debris.The smell of burnt paper and melted plastic seeped into my nostrils, sharp and invasive. Every breath felt like a betrayal, reminding me that beneath the ashes, something more dangerous still lurked. I glanced around, my eyes adjusting to the dim, flickering light cast by the flickering
I Kissed The Billionaire Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Four.They say fire is a kind of cleansing. That what it touches, it consumes, and what survives becomes something new. But as I stood in front of the burning Hall Corporation warehouse, watching smoke bleed into the night sky like the ink of a dying god, I didn’t feel cleansed. I felt betrayed.The flames devoured decades of files—physical records, original ledgers, tax documents, old photographs. Some of it mundane. Most of it damning.We were too late.The fire crews had been dispatched almost an hour after the blaze began. Convenient delay. Someone high up had pulled strings to buy time, to make sure the place burned down to its steel bones. Randall and I had driven like hell to get here, but by the time we arrived, the fire was already in its final crescendo, licking the sky in orange and violet hues. Destruction had its own kind of beauty, I supposed."It was meant to be theatrical," Randall muttered beside me. His jaw was tense, eyes flickering in the firelight. "
I Kissed The Billionaire Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter 43.Grief has a scent. It’s not perfume or rot—it’s something more insidious. Paper and old flowers. The faintest trace of worn leather and lavender, like my mother’s favorite shawl—the one I used to bury my face in when the world felt too loud. Today, that scent clung to me like a second skin, a ghostly perfume of memory that refused to fade. Standing before her grave, I clutched a bouquet of white hyacinths—fragile, fragrant, and pure—yet heavy with the weight of unspoken truths.Silence pounded in my chest, echoing like a war drum. I wasn’t here to cry. Not this time. I was here because the dead deserved the truth, too. Because silence was the greatest betrayal, and I refused to let it drown her memory.The wind curled playfully around me, its cold fingertips brushing my skin, whispering secrets I couldn’t hear. It tugged at my hair, whipping strands into my face, icy and relentless. I lowered myself slowly, kneeling on the damp earth, my fingertips tracing the rough granit
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