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Chapter 23
Date de publication:
2026-05-03 20:33:51
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My Possessive Billionaire Chapter 31
Chapter 31 Leilani's POV The timeline had stretched, the seasons bleeding into one another until three years had quietly passed since that desperate flight from Manila. Those three years had transformed me. I was no longer the girl who arrived in the Alps with nothing but a secret and a suitcase; I was a woman with a degree from one of the most rigorous institutes in the world, a flourishing career, and a reason to wake up every morning. Zain was no longer a tiny infant. At two years old, he was a vibrant, walking reminder of the world I had left behind. "Mama! Look! Big boat!" I turned away from the balcony view of Lake Geneva, my heart performing that familiar, painful somersault. Running toward me with a wooden toy in his hand was my son. He was a whirlwind of energy, his laughter echoing against the high ceilings of the villa. I knelt to catch him, pulling his sturdy little body into a hug. As I pulled back to brush a dark, unruly lock of hair from his forehead, a
My Possessive Billionaire Chapter 30
Chapter 30 Timothy’s POV Two years. Seven hundred and thirty days of waking up in a penthouse that felt more like a mausoleum than a home. I stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring out at the Manila skyline, but all I saw was a ghost. I had cycled through twenty-four different private investigators. Every month, I fired the last one and hired a new firm—boutique agencies, former intelligence officers, high-tech digital trackers. I paid them obscene amounts of money for even a whisper of her name. I told them to check every hospital, every provincial bus terminal, every flight manifest under every possible alias. The result was always the same: A folder full of dead ends and a polite, terrified apology. “It’s as if she never existed, Mr. Beckett.” I knew better. She existed in the way my chest tightened every time I passed the service entrance of the manor. She existed in the silence of the guest room she once occupied. To the rest of the world, I was the
My Possessive Billionaire Chapter 29
Chapter 29 Leilani’s POV The air in Montreux was unlike anything I had ever breathed—crisp, thin, and scented with the faint aroma of pine and melting snow. It was a sharp contrast to the humid, smog-choked air of Manila. Here, the silence wasn't empty; it was peaceful. My first few months in Switzerland felt like a slow, beautiful awakening. My villa sat on a hillside overlooking Lake Geneva, a mirror-like expanse that changed colors with the shifting sun. In this sanctuary, I wasn't an heiress, a maid, or a victim. I was simply a woman starting over. To my surprise, I found it easy to make friends. I had joined a small, international study group at the institute—people from all over the world who knew me only as "Lei," a quiet, dedicated student with a penchant for high-collared sweaters and a love for local chocolate. They didn't care about my family name or my past; they only cared about my insights during seminars and our shared weekend trips to the local markets.
My Possessive Billionaire Chapter 28
Chapter 28 Leilani’s POV The weight of my new reality felt heaviest in the middle of a high-end department store. I stood in the center of a designer boutique, surrounded by the scent of expensive leather and French perfume, but all I could feel were the four pairs of eyes tracking my every move. Behind me stood two stoic men in dark suits—bodyguards Lawrence insisted on—and a young maid named Elena, who carried my growing collection of shopping bags. I looked at my reflection in a floor-to-ceiling gilded mirror. I was draped in silk that cost just much, yet I felt like an imposter. I remembered watching Lily, Timothy’s former flame, doing exactly this. I remembered how she would snap her fingers at us, treating the staff like furniture that happened to breathe. She used her status as a weapon to make us feel small. I turned to Elena, who was standing stiffly a few paces back. "Elena, put those down for a second. Your arms must be aching." "It’s my job, Miss Leilani,
My Possessive Billionaire Chapter 27
Chapter 27 Leilani’s POV Time in the manor felt different than time in the real world. It was quiet, measured by the soft chime of the grandfather clock in the hall and the steam rising from my afternoon tea. One month had passed since I arrived here, and I had only thirty days left before my flight to Switzerland. For the first time in my life, I wasn't running. I wasn't checking the time to see if I’d be late for a shift, and I wasn't calculating how many hours of sleep I could sacrifice to pay a bill. I used that silence to finish it. The novel that had lived in the margins of my notebooks for years—the one I wrote during 15-minute breaks at the bar or late at night in Timothy’s penthouse—was finally complete. I typed the final period on the last chapter and felt a weight lift off my shoulders that had nothing to do with money. To keep my mind sharp, I started a blog under one of my pen names. I wrote about the things I had seen—the invisible lives of the working
My Possessive Billionaire Chapter 26
Chapter 26 Timothy’s POV The image was burned into my retinas like a brand—Leilani, the woman I had held in my arms just hours before, huddled in the dirt and grease under a stainless steel table. Her tears hadn't just been from fear; they were from a betrayal I had allowed to happen under my own roof. The moment she wrenched her hand from mine and ran into the night, something in me snapped. The "Golden Boy" persona, the polished CEO, the dutiful son—it all disintegrated, leaving behind a raw, jagged monster. "Timothy, calm down—" Jax started, taking a cautious step toward me. "GET OUT!" I roared, grabbing a tray of crystal flutes and hurling them against the industrial refrigerator. The sound of shattering glass was the only thing that matched the screaming in my head. "EVERYONE! OUT!" I didn't care about the reputation of the Beckett Group. I didn't care about the "Alta" guests sipping vintage wine in the ballroom. I moved through the kitchen like a whirlwind of d
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