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last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-05-21 17:36:28

Stacey

I wake up in the morning, a wave of nausea washing over me as I stumble out of bed, the room spinning around me. Rushing to the bathroom, I lean over the toilet, my stomach heaving as I empty its contents. The realization that Juan has already left for work hits me, a pang of loneliness settling in as I wipe my mouth and try to steady my breathing.

Feeling weak and exhausted, I call out for Nancy, who appears in my room with a concerned expression. "Nancy, could you please bring me some breakfast? I'm craving pancakes with a chocolate shake," I request, my voice a mere whisper as I sink back onto the bed, the room spinning around me.

After what feels like an eternity, Nancy returns with my breakfast, the aroma of freshly cooked pancakes and the sweet scent of chocolate filling the room. As I dig into the comforting meal, my thoughts stray to Juan and his absence this morning. "Nancy, have you seen Juan leave for work?" I inquire, a hint of uncertainty creeping into my voice.

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  • Tempting A Billionaire    75

    NarratorThe storm outside is mild compared to what brews behind the gilded walls of the Martinez estate. Inside Tyler’s sprawling mansion, Marsiella Martinez sits across from him, her expression unreadable, as always—a woman skilled in masks, manipulation, and rot.“She’s too comfortable,” Marsiella says, fingering the rim of her wine glass. “Stacey thinks she’s won. She walks around that house like it belongs to her.” Tyler watches her carefully. “She’s carrying Juan’s child, Marsiella. What exactly are you hoping to accomplish?”“I’m hoping to remove her. Permanently.” Her tone is colder than the crystal in her hand. Tyler shifts, uneasy. “You want to kill her?”&ldqu

  • Tempting A Billionaire    74

    NarratorThe house is quiet after midnight—too quiet for a home full of tension. The soft murmur of voices slips from behind the master bedroom door, and Marsiella stands just beyond it, her ear pressed gently against the polished wood.Inside, Juan and Stacey are arguing. Not loudly—no shouting. Just that low, tight tone lovers use when they’re trying not to fall apart. “I’m trying my best,” Stacey says, voice trembling. “I’ve ignored every insult, every taunt. But your mother is poisoning the house, Juan.”There’s a pause. Marsiella smirks to herself. She doesn’t need to hear Juan’s response to know it’s laced with fatigue and hesitation.“I can’t deal with this right now,”

  • Tempting A Billionaire    73

    StaceyNancy and I start working right after breakfast. The guest list is small, intimate. Just my closest friends—Raya, Rose, Dani, and Mae. Women who know me, love me, and have stood by me through storms I thought would drown me.We light candles, set out fresh gardenias in crystal vases, and prepare a modest spread—lemon tartlets, smoked salmon bites, Nancy’s famous rosemary chicken, and a chilled bottle of sparkling peach cordial. The house smells like citrus and lavender, a strange kind of calm before the inevitable chaos.I’m arranging place cards at the table when I hear the sharp click of heels against marble.“Hosting a tea party?” Marsiella sneers, crossing her arms as she surveys the decorations. “No,” I say with

  • Tempting A Billionaire    72

    StaceyI wake up to the smell of toast burning. Nancy never burns toast.I throw on a robe and pad downstairs, my pulse already tight with dread. I know before I even reach the bottom of the staircase who’s taken over the kitchen. And when I turn the corner, I find her—Marsiella—standing in front of the stove like she’s always belonged here.She turns her head slightly, as if she hears my footsteps, but doesn’t greet me. She’s dressed to perfection, hair swept up, blouse crisp, and her lips painted like she’s ready for a public appearance. There’s no mess, no clutter—except for the smoke curling from the toaster.Nancy stands in the corner like a shadow, her hands fidgeting with a dishtowel, clearly displaced. I

  • Tempting A Billionaire    71

    StaceyI’m in the kitchen early, before the sun has fully pushed through the clouds, slicing strawberries and humming softly under my breath. Nancy’s working beside me, her hands steady as always, prepping breakfast for the day. There’s something comforting in the scent of fresh herbs and butter sizzling gently in the pan. It’s the only sense of normalcy I have left in this house.And then I hear it. The sharp tap of heels against the tile floor. “Good morning,” Marsiella says, her voice soaked in sugar and poison. I stiffen, fingers tightening around the knife. “Good morning,” I manage, without turning around.She watches us silently for a beat too long, then crosses the kitchen like she owns it—like she’s always owned it. “I’ve been thin

  • Tempting A Billionaire    70

    StaceyJuan hasn’t smiled in days.Even now, seated beside me at the breakfast table, he barely lifts his eyes from the plate. His fork scrapes against porcelain, a lifeless sound that feels like nails on my nerves. His shoulders sag with invisible weight, jaw tight as if it hurts to even chew. I know that posture. I know that pain.His mother sits across from us, pristine in her linen blouse, her makeup sharp and untouched by time. I try to match her politeness, meet her cold eyes with warmth, but she only glances at me like I’m some stray that wandered into her perfect estate.She doesn’t need to say anything—her silence cuts sharper than her words.“You haven’t touched your toast,

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