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Chapter 9
Last Updated:
2025-03-07 02:24:43
Latest chapter
The Billionaire's Karma Chapter 11
“I still can’t believe we’re doing this.”Margot shoved a bundle of green onions into the cart like they’d personally offended her.I kept my eyes on the list in my hand, scanning for garlic. “It’s not that big of a deal.”“Oh, it’s a huge deal,” she shot back. “We are currently grocery shopping because you decided—based on advice from a man you’ve known for what, five minutes?—to cook for your emotionally-constipated husband who hasn’t been home in days.”I reached for a can of peeled tomatoes and dropped it into the cart. “He was just trying to help.”“Uh-huh. And now I’m elbow-deep in parsley because some mysterious café guy told you to ‘try differently.’”I smiled a little. “You remember exactly what he said.”“I remember nonsense when I hear it,” Margot muttered, adding basil to the cart anyway.I sighed. “Daniel wasn’t being preachy. He was being… decent. That’s rare.”She didn’t argue with that. Instead, she picked up a pack of pasta and raised an eyebrow. “Fettucine?”I nodded
The Billionaire's Karma Chapter 10
Julian hadn’t come home in three days.He didn’t leave a note. No call. No apology. But then, he never did.I didn’t bother asking anymore. We were long past the point of pretending.The penthouse had been too quiet for too long. I had grown used to the hum of silence, but today it felt different. Heavy. Suffocating. It was the kind of silence that made you want to scream just to hear something human.So I left.No one stopped me. I didn’t need to explain where I was going—not that Julian would care. The elevator ride down felt like a slow descent into reality. One where I still existed, still breathed, still had the right to take up space.I wandered for a while, letting the city wrap around me in its usual blur of honking taxis and overheard conversations. Eventually, I found myself at that same little café, tucked between a bookstore and a shoe repair shop.The bell over the door chimed as I stepped inside.And there he was.Daniel.Sitting by the window again, a pencil in one hand
The Billionaire's Karma Chapter 9
The next morning, I woke up feeling the same way I always did these days: heavy. It was as though lead had pooled in my chest overnight, weighing me down before I’d even had the chance to face the day. I stared at the ceiling for a few moments, letting the dim light filtering through the curtains wash over me. The silence of the penthouse made my ears ring. It was remarkable how loud nothingness could be.I sat up slowly, rubbing my temples before I swung my legs over the side of the bed. My toes brushed against the cool hardwood floor, and for a moment, I let myself stay like that—feet grounded, head bowed, trying to summon the strength to face another day.The memory of last night’s gala replayed in my mind like a cruel highlight reel. The forced smiles, the whispers behind our backs, Julian’s cold, detached presence by my side. And then that moment in the living room when I’d dared to ask him why he married me. His answer had been as cutting as it was predictable. “Because it was c
The Billionaire's Karma Chapter 8
The car ride back to the penthouse was cloaked in an oppressive silence. The city lights blurred past the window as I stared out, my head resting against the cool glass. I could feel Julian’s presence beside me, distant yet heavy, like a storm cloud lingering on the horizon. He didn’t speak, and neither did I. What was there to say? We were two strangers bound by a contract, pretending to be a couple in love for the benefit of the world. The charade was exhausting, and tonight had drained me of whatever strength I had left. My gaze shifted slightly, catching his reflection in the window. He sat straight, his posture impeccable, his jaw set in that infuriatingly stern way that made him seem untouchable. His green eyes were fixed ahead, unreadable as always. I wondered what he was thinking. Did he feel the same suffocating weight I did? Or was he so detached that none of this affected him at all? The car pulled to a smooth stop in front of the building, and Julian was out before I coul
The Billionaire's Karma Chapter 7
The ballroom was alive with the hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter. The Blackwood charity gala was everything I had expected it to be—grand, opulent, and utterly suffocating. Hundreds of guests in designer gowns and tailored suits drifted through the space, their movements as polished as the marble floors beneath their feet. It was a performance, a carefully orchestrated ballet of wealth and influence, and I was the reluctant dancer at its center. Julian’s hand rested lightly on my lower back as he guided me through the crowd, a gesture that looked intimate but was anything but. His touch was impersonal, like I was just another accessory to complement his perfectly tailored tuxedo. To these people, we were the perfect power couple, the Blackwoods in all their shining glory. But beneath the glittering facade, the cracks in our foundation were deep and irreparable. “Smile,” Julian murmured under his breath, his voice low enough that on
The Billionaire's Karma Chapter 6
The days following Julian’s absence were a blur of emptiness. I spent most of my time wandering the penthouse, avoiding the staff with their pitiful glances and pretending I didn’t feel the suffocating loneliness creeping in through every corner of the cold, sprawling space. The walls seemed to echo with the silence, a constant reminder of how isolated I was in this hollow marriage.Julian hadn’t returned since the honeymoon. Or rather, the lack of one. I didn’t know where he was, and I didn’t dare ask. The villa staff had been kind enough to inform me that he was 'attending to business matters,' but I knew better. Business matters didn’t require disappearing without a word, and they certainly didn’t involve neglecting your new wife. Julian’s absence wasn’t about work—it was about avoidance. Avoidance of me and of a marriage he clearly wanted no part of.And yet, a small part of me, a part I hated, kept hoping the door would open and he’d walk in. That he’d at least offer some kind of
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