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Chapter 23: The Mother
Last Updated:
2025-12-20 20:14:42
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Slaving the Lady Billionaire Chapter 26: Paparazzi Fire
The first headline broke before sunrise.Celeste saw it the moment her phone lit up on the nightstand, the glow cutting through the half-darkness of the bedroom. She lay still for a moment, listening to the soft rhythm of Arrow’s breathing beside her—careful distance maintained, the memory of the shared bed still too recent to ignore.She reached for her phone.DE LA VEGA MARRIAGE ON THE BRINK?Exclusive sources reveal tension following Monaco gala scandal.Her jaw tightened.By the time she rose, dressed, and stepped into the kitchen, three more articles had surfaced. Each one sharper than the last. Carefully phrased speculation. Cropped photographs. Anonymous “sources close to the couple.”None of it was real.All of it was effective.Arrow entered moments later, sleeves rolled, expression already hard. “They’re escalating.”“They want to provoke a reaction,” Celeste replied coolly. “Silence or spectacle.”He glanced at her. “And which do you prefer?”She hesitated. “Neither.”The c
Slaving the Lady Billionaire Chapter 25:
Celeste sensed it before the meeting even began.The Montaire boardroom had always been her battlefield—long glass table, floor-to-ceiling windows, the city spread below like something she owned by right and blood. Today, however, the air felt wrong. Tighter. Too still. The kind of silence that preceded a controlled detonation.She took her seat at the head of the table, spine straight, tablet placed precisely in front of her. Faces looked back at her—some familiar, some guarded, one or two already avoiding her gaze.That was new.“Let’s begin,” Celeste said calmly.The presentation started smoothly enough. Projections. Timelines. Market expansion figures she had personally vetted the night before. For the first ten minutes, everything aligned.Then the cracks appeared.“Excuse me,” one of the board members interrupted, sliding a document across the table. “These supplier contracts—why are they missing the final signatures?”Celeste frowned. “They were signed two weeks ago.”Another v
Slaving the Lady Billionaire Chapter 24: The Bed Clause
The amendment arrived just after midnight.Celeste saw the notification glow on her phone while the penthouse slept around her, the city lights below Monaco flickering like restless thoughts she couldn’t quiet. She was still dressed in a silk robe, hair loose over her shoulders, posture rigid as she sat at the edge of the couch, rereading the message as if repetition might change its meaning.It didn’t.Addendum to Clause Twelve: Shared sleeping arrangements are required during all joint travel to reinforce marital optics and mitigate speculative narratives.Celeste let out a short, humorless laugh.“They’re forcing us into the same bed now,” she murmured to the empty room.As if summoned, Arrow emerged from the bedroom, tie loosened, sleeves rolled, his expression already dark. “I just read it.”She looked up at him. “So this is what control looks like now?”“It’s pressure,” he replied. “Calculated.”“Psychological,” she corrected.They stared at each other, the weight of the amendme
Slaving the Lady Billionaire Chapter 23: The Mother
Arrow De La Vega’s mother did not announce her arrival.She never had.The penthouse knew before Celeste did—the subtle shift in atmosphere, the tightening of space, the quiet sense that something sharp had entered the room. Celeste felt it as she reviewed documents at the dining table, the words blurring slightly on the screen as unease crept up her spine.Then came the sound of heels.Measured. Unhurried. Certain.Celeste looked up just as Margaret De La Vega stepped inside, her presence commanding without effort. She wore a navy suit tailored to precision, pearls resting at her throat like armor. Her silver hair was swept into a flawless chignon, her expression cool and unreadable.No assistant. No warning.“Celeste,” Margaret said, voice smooth as polished steel.Celeste rose slowly, setting her tablet aside. “Mrs. De La Vega.”Margaret’s gaze swept over her with clinical efficiency, as though assessing a potential acquisition rather than a daughter-in-law. “You look tired.”“It’s
Slaving the Lady Billionaire Chapter 22: The Socialite
Celeste noticed Isabella Croix because Isabella wanted to be noticed.She arrived at the Monaco charity gala precisely twelve minutes after Celeste and Arrow—late enough to make an entrance, early enough to dominate the room. The orchestra had just softened its tempo, glasses were freshly refilled, and the attention of the crowd was beginning to wander.Isabella gave it something to focus on.She wore silver like a challenge, the fabric clinging to her tall, willowy frame as if it had been poured rather than sewn. Diamonds traced her throat and wrists, catching the light with calculated brilliance. Her dark hair was pulled back into a severe, elegant twist that emphasized her sharp cheekbones and even sharper gaze.But it wasn’t her beauty that made Celeste’s stomach tighten.It was Arrow’s reaction.Not obvious. Not crude. But unmistakable.The moment Isabella crossed the marble floor, Arrow’s posture shifted—only slightly, just enough for Celeste to feel it through the arm she had l
Slaving the Lady Billionaire Chapter 21: Turbulence
The private jet cut through the night sky like a blade honed to perfection, its engines humming with a low, unrelenting authority. Inside the cabin, everything was controlled luxury—cream leather seats, polished wood panels, muted gold lighting designed to soothe nerves that refused to be soothed.Celeste Montaire sat by the window, her posture immaculate, her expression carefully neutral. The city lights below had long disappeared, replaced by endless clouds illuminated faintly by the moon. She watched them drift by, untouchable and distant, and thought bitterly that they mirrored her own life perfectly.Across from her sat Arrow De La Vega.Not beside her. Across.The distance between them was deliberate, engineered like every other aspect of their marriage. Space could be calculated. Boundaries could be enforced. At least, that was the lie they both told themselves.Arrow had removed his suit jacket, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing the sharp lines of muscle beneath pri
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