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CHAPTER 3: THE RULES AND THE OTHER VEXLEY
Huling Na-update:
2025-05-08 03:53:37Calla's Pov
I woke up in silk sheets.
Not just soft. Obscenely soft. Like my body had forgotten what cotton felt like. Like even my skin didn’t belong here.
The room was huge. Way bigger than my old studio. Pale gray walls. Sleek black furniture. No clutter. No warmth. A bed built for someone who didn’t sleep alone.
I blinked at the ceiling, heart already racing. It took me a second to remember where I was.
Vexley Estate.
Right. The job.
The mysterious billionaire who didn’t want his staff to ask questions. The one who looked at me like he already knew what I was running from.
Ronan Vexley. CEO. Control freak. Beautiful, terrifying man with eyes that could cut glass and a voice that could make you forget your name.
I got dressed in the only clean shirt I had left. Stole a banana from the massive kitchen fruit bowl that looked more decorative than edible. My stomach growled like it hated me. I ignored it.
Elijah found me by the laundry room.
“You're late,” he said without checking the time.
I opened my mouth, closed it. Followed him.
Cleaning here wasn’t normal cleaning.
There were rules. Specific instructions. Don’t touch the desk in the library. Don’t open any drawers in the study. Don’t go upstairs. Don’t ever go in the west wing.
The way Elijah said it—flat, serious, like he’d seen someone break those rules and vanish—I didn’t ask why.
I dusted the library, vacuumed the south parlor, changed bedsheets in two guest rooms that hadn’t been slept in but still smelled like expensive cologne and something darker.
It was quiet. Too quiet.
Like the house itself was listening.
#################$$$$$$$###
Around noon, I stepped into the hall near the west wing by accident. I didn’t realize I crossed the invisible line until I heard the voice.
“You’re not supposed to be here.”
I froze.
It wasn’t Ronan.
The man in front of me looked… polished. Clean suit, sharp features, hair slicked back like he modeled for old mafia films. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Sorry,” I said quickly, backing up.
He moved toward me, slow. Deliberate. Like a cat stretching before a kill.
“No need to panic,” he said. “I’m Dominic.”
I didn’t shake his hand.
He noticed.
“New help?”
I nodded.
“Pretty,” he said, scanning me. “Ronan has a type, after all.”
My stomach twisted.
“I was just looking for the laundry chute,” I lied.
He smiled wider. “That’s cute. You lie badly.”
I tried to walk past him. He blocked me with one step.
“Let me guess,” he said. “You’ve got secrets. You needed a way out. He gave you a job. Now you think you’re safe.”
I didn’t answer.
“Do yourself a favor,” he whispered. “Don’t trust him. And whatever you do, don’t fall for him.”
I forced my voice to stay calm. “I’m not here for him.”
His eyes lit up. Like I amused him.
“Then you’re already his favorite kind of girl.”
I stepped around him—fast, before he could say more.
He didn’t follow.
He just laughed.
I found Elijah in the hall ten minutes later.
“Who the hell is Dominic?” I hissed.
He looked at me too long before answering.
“Someone who’s not your concern.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re gonna get.”
#####################
That night, I sat on the edge of my bed with my phone in my hand, thumb hovering over Jade’s name.
But I didn’t call.
What would I say?
That I was living in a mansion that felt like a haunted museum? That the billionaire who hired me had rules like a warden, and his creepy maybe-friend might be a threat?
I set the phone down.
Just as I lay back, there was a soft knock on my door.
I sat up fast. “Who is it?”
No answer.
Another knock. Quieter this time.
I got up, heart slamming against my ribs. I opened the door an inch.
No one was there.
But something was.
On the floor—an envelope. Unmarked. No name.
Inside was a single photo.
Me.
Sleeping.
Pinakabagong kabanata
The Billionaire's Dirty Secrets CHAPTER 60
CHAPTER 60Calla’s POVThe silence after my refusal was a living thing. It filled the sunlit penthouse, thick and charged with everything we hadn’t said. The weight of the ring on his finger felt like it was on mine, a secret anchor threatening to drag us both under.Ronan didn’t argue. He didn’t rage. He just… absorbed my words. The storm in his eyes receded, not into calm, but into a deep, unsettling focus. He rose from his knee, his movements fluid and controlled, and helped me to the plush sofa, tucking a blanket around my legs with a tenderness that contradicted the intensity of his gaze.“Rest,” was all he said, before retreating to his study.For hours, I drifted in the quiet. The fear was a dull background hum—fear of the enemies he was unleashing upon, fear for the tiny life inside me, fear that I’d wounded him in a way that couldn’t be mended. Dr. Vance’s warning—your body is the battlefield—echoed in my head. I felt like a trespasser in my own skin, a fragile vessel on a st
The Billionaire's Dirty Secrets CHAPTER 59
CHAPTER 59Ronan’s POVMy study was no longer a room; it was the command nexus of a war. The blue light from the laptop screens felt surgical, illuminating the evidence I was about to use as a scalpel to dissect an empire. Beck stood beside me, a solid, silent presence, but the final decisions, the weight of this, were mine alone.“The financials are the hammer,” Beck said, pointing at the transaction chains on one screen. “But the media narrative is the anvil. We drop it all at once—the payment to Jade, the shell corporation trail, the poison report—and we flatten them.”I didn’t look away from the screen. “No.” The word came out flat, final. “Flattening is too quick. I don’t want them flattened. I want them excavated. I want the world to see the rot in their foundations, layer by filthy layer.”My finger tapped a key, pulling up a different file. It wasn’t about money. It was about blood. A blueprint of my own mansion filled the screen, a specific wing highlighted in cold red. “The
The Billionaire's Dirty Secrets CHAPTER 58
CHAPTER 58Calla’s POVThe hospital room became my world. A world of beeping monitors, hushed voices, and the relentless, terrifying focus on the tiny, flickering heartbeat on the ultrasound screen. They’d moved me to a high-risk maternity ward, a gilded cage with better security and softer blankets. Dr. Vance was a calm, commanding presence, but her updates were always hedged with warnings. Stable, but fragile. Rest is crucial. Absolutely no stress.A joke. The stress was a living thing in the room with us, wearing Ronan’s face.He was everywhere. He’d converted the adjoining family suite into a command post. His quiet conversations with Beck and Finn were a constant murmur through the wall. He was a king guarding his most vulnerable treasure, and his kingdom was on high alert.He was meticulous in his care. He ensured my meals were perfect, adjusted the lighting, brought me stacks of mindless novels. But his touch, when he helped me to the bathroom or adjusted my pillows, was carefu
The Billionaire's Dirty Secrets CHAPTER 57
CHAPTER 57Ronan’s POVThe hospital corridor was a tunnel of sterile white and humming silence. I leaned against the wall outside her room, the cold plaster doing nothing to douse the firestorm in my head.My child.The words were a foreign, devastating country. For a few brief, horrifying minutes in the kitchen, I’d thought I was losing her. The blood, her pain—it had been a preview of a hell I couldn’t survive. Then Dr. Vance’s words had redefined the nightmare. It wasn’t just Calla at risk.Our child.A life I hadn’t even known existed, conceived in the fragile peace we’d built between battles, now hanging by a thread in a war I had dragged it into.And she had known. She had hidden it. She had lied with such convincing, fragile panic over those tests.The fury was a white-hot ingot in my chest. It was clean, righteous, directed at her deception. It was easier than the other, more complicated terror.But as I stood in the silent hall, the icy water of logic began to drip onto that
The Billionaire's Dirty Secrets CHAPTER 56
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The Billionaire's Dirty Secrets CHAPTER 55
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