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Some Ghosts Come With Reference Numbers

作者: Krystal Bahmz
last update 公開日: 2026-08-13 17:51:08

He picked up the photocopy, not by the corners with the disgust of a normal person, but like it was evidence that might contain hair, fibers, DNA, and a family curse. His eyes moved quickly over the text. No expression. If Luca had ever played poker, the gambling world should be terrified.

“What did she say?” he asked.

“Short version, or the version that makes me sound like I need a drink before noon?”

“Full version.” Luca looked at me flatly.

I rested my elbow on the arm of the chair. “Kelsey
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  • The Billionaire's Regret   The Coffee Was Right. Something Else Wasn’t.

    He stood just inside the door with his navy coat open, white shirt without a tie, dark brown hair slightly mussed by the wind outside. In one hand, he carried a cardboard coffee tray with two cups. In the other, a small paper bag from the café I usually ordered almond croissants from when I wanted to pretend breakfast was a form of self-care instead of carbohydrates layered with denial.His expression changed the second he saw us.Me. Luca. Daniella. The gray folder. The photocopy on the table.For a man who claimed he was more comfortable talking to systems than people, Adrian read a room far too quickly.“Hey,” he said quietly.His voice didn’t rise. Didn’t demand. Didn’t sound an alarm. And somehow, that was harder to deal with than if he had immediately asked who died.“Adrian,” I said.He walked over carefully. “I brought you coffee,” he said, lifting the carrier slightly. “The right kind. Not the one that tastes like tax punishment.”“You came to bribe me with caffeine?”“I just

  • The Billionaire's Regret   Some Ghosts Come With Reference Numbers

    He picked up the photocopy, not by the corners with the disgust of a normal person, but like it was evidence that might contain hair, fibers, DNA, and a family curse. His eyes moved quickly over the text. No expression. If Luca had ever played poker, the gambling world should be terrified.“What did she say?” he asked.“Short version, or the version that makes me sound like I need a drink before noon?”“Full version.” Luca looked at me flatly.I rested my elbow on the arm of the chair. “Kelsey claims she’s three months pregnant. A boy. Sebastian’s. She claims the Romano family is protecting her because she’s his wife and carrying a Romano son. She called Poppy an inheritance problem that showed up after the family already had a ‘cleaner solution.’”Daniella made a small sound in her throat.Luca didn’t interrupt. But his eyes, usually as calm as a steel door, paused for a fraction of a second at three months.I saw it.Of course I saw it.I was raised in a house where everyone lied ov

  • The Billionaire's Regret   One Touch Away From Disaster

    Kelsey left.Not dramatically enough. Well, for someone who had just walked into my office carrying a fetus like a VIP access card and threatened my daughter with the energy of a woman who had practiced her lines in the mirror too many times, her exit was deeply disappointing.Her heels clicked across the lobby floor, neat, small, expensive in an unconvincing way. Her camel coat moved behind her like the flag of a country that had just lost a war but still insisted on standing upright. At the glass doors, she paused for a fraction of a second, maybe hoping I would call her back. Maybe hoping I would change my mind. Maybe hoping the lobby would collapse and bury her with dignity.I gave her none of the three.The glass doors opened. Outside air slipped in for a moment, carrying the smell of the city, rich people’s perfume, and a trace of exhaust from the boulevard. Then the doors closed again, leaving behind the clean lobby, the white flowers in the slim vase, the small round table, an

  • The Billionaire's Regret   The Math Wasn’t Mathing

    I stared at her. “A boy,” I repeated.“My son.”“Who’s only a few weeks along.”“Three months,” she said too quickly, then smoothed out her voice. “I mean, early trimester.”I looked at her a little longer.Three months.The number lit up faintly in the back of my mind, but I didn’t pick it up yet. Because Poppy had just been mentioned like an item in an inheritance meeting, and that took priority.I closed the folder with one finger. “Kelsey.”I watched her swallow.“What do you want?”“I want you to stay away from Sebastian.”I laughed, one short sound that made the woman at reception glance over, then immediately pretend to be deeply occupied with her computer screen.“You’ve got nerve.”“I’m serious.”“Worse.”“You and Poppy need to stay away from him.”“Don’t put my daughter’s name in your mouth again,” I growled softly.Kelsey pressed her lips together. “I’m trying to warn you.”“With inheritance documents and a male fetus. Very maternal.”“Sebastian’s father isn’t going to let

  • The Billionaire's Regret   Bloodlines and Other Antiquated Hobbies

    I sighed and walked ahead of her to take a seat at the quiet end of the lobby.There were two low chairs near the side window, separated by a small round table with nothing on it but a slim vase of white flowers. Very corporate. Very clean. Very inappropriate for a conversation with the woman who had once turned my marriage into an expensive pile of rubble.I sat first because I didn’t want her choosing the chair that would leave my back to the room.Kelsey sat across from me, knees together, handbag in her lap, that camel coat still folded too neatly over her arm. She used to sit like that in the waiting area outside Sebastian’s office, shoulders slightly hunched, big eyes, soft voice, making everyone want to give her a second chance before she had even used the first one properly.I had once been one of those idiots.“So,” I said, setting my coffee on the table. “Talk before I change my mind and have security remove you in a way that still fits my company branding.”Kelsey opened he

  • The Billionaire's Regret   No Other Woman, My Ass

    I stared at him for a few seconds. “Congratulations?”“It wasn’t an announcement.”“It sounds like something that should be printed on a Christmas card.”The corner of his mouth moved slightly, but his eyes didn’t join the joke. “I was just answering your question.”“I didn’t ask one.”“You spent almost ten minutes investigating the lingerie in my closet.”“That was situational observation.”“That was jealousy.”I lifted my mug. “This is hot coffee. Choose your next word carefully.”Sebastian moved closer instead.Just one step, but enough to change the space between us from a normal conversation into something wildly inappropriate to be doing in a kitchen while our child was screaming about the human rights of her bangs a few doors away.I stayed where I was. If I stepped back now, the man would keep that tiny victory until he died and probably put it in his will.“There is no other woman,” he repeated quietly.“I heard you.”“Hasn’t been for a long time.”“I heard that part too. My

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