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หน้าหลัก / Romance / The Billionaire's Regret / The Cologne Villain

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The Cologne Villain

ผู้เขียน: Krystal Bahmz
last update วันที่เผยแพร่: 2026-05-19 23:09:59

I’m wearing a champagne-colored silk shirt, too delicate for a day that had already been ruined, tucked carelessly into black wide-leg pants. My hair was pulled into a messy bun, a few strands falling at the nape of my neck.

“I said I don’t want oatmeal!”

I heard her before I saw her.

Her little voice echoed from the dining room, still a little raspy because her throat was recovering, but sharp enough to crack glass if aimed with intent.

I stopped on the last step, hand on the railing, and clos
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  • 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

  • The Billionaire's Regret   My Pride Died

    “I see?” I repeated. “That’s your response?”“What response were you expecting?”“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe something that starts with, ‘Jasmine, there’s a perfectly normal explanation for why my house has a miniature women’s department store hidden inside my bedroom.’”“It’s not hidden.”“The door was closed.”“Closets tend to have doors.”I hated him. “And the robe.”“The robe.”“The ivory robe.”“I know what ivory looks like.”“Well, at least your education paid off.”Sebastian picked up his coffee and leaned lightly against the counter.“Because this is fascinating. Yesterday, you said no woman lives here.” I kept going before he could introduce logic into the conversation.“Correct.”“No Kelsey.”“Correct.”“And then this morning I wake up and find a women’s robe in your bathroom, lingerie in your closet, sweaters in a very specific size, and enough clothes to make me question whether you’re secretly running a socialite relocation program.”He drank his coffee.I stared at him. “Ar

  • The Billionaire's Regret   Rich Man With Poor Judgment

    I wanted to hit him with a croissant.Unfortunately, there wasn’t a croissant within reach. Just a fruit bowl, a coffee pot, and one four-year-old staring back and forth between us like she’d just discovered the first scandal of her journalism career.“Mommy, but if it wasn’t mosqui—”“Why is your hair sticky?”The most elegant subject change in the history of diplomacy.Poppy stopped immediately.Sebastian lowered his gaze to the small head in his arms.I set down my mug, stepped closer, and pulled at one long strand of Poppy’s hair stuck to the side of her cheek. My fingertip immediately met something sweet and sticky.I looked at my finger, then at Poppy. “This is syrup.”Poppy’s eyes went wide. “No.”I held up my shiny finger. “Poppy.”“It might be honey.”“Worse.”“I don’t know how it got there.”Sebastian turned slightly toward her. “You poured syrup onto your pancake from a foot above it.”“It was technique.”“You hit the table.”“I’m still learning.”“You hit Bunny.”Poppy imm

  • The Billionaire's Regret   Daddy Has an Ouchie

    I stopped in front of the mirror.It fit perfectly.The shoulders fell exactly where they should. The belt sat at the right point. The hem hit mid-thigh. Modest enough, indecent enough, enough to make me look like a mafia wife, well, maybe like Krystal, who had just taken control of the family resort after three elegant murders.I narrowed my eyes. “Interesting,” I muttered.I walked out of the bathroom, then noticed the walk-in closet door was slightly open.I shouldn’t have gone in.I really shouldn’t have.But I had already ruined my life once because of a computer that hadn’t been logged out. Apparently, I learned nothing. Or maybe I was simply the kind of woman who saw a secret door and immediately opened it while carrying fire and family problems.Sebastian’s walk-in closet, unsurprisingly, had never heard of the concept of enough.The left side was suits.A lot of suits.Black, navy, charcoal, several shades of gray that could only be distinguished by rich people and Daniella.

  • The Billionaire's Regret   No Alcohol to Blame

    I don’t know when sleep came.Maybe after my body finally gave up before my brain did. Maybe after Sebastian stopped kissing the back of my shoulder, slow and warm. Maybe after I stopped counting all the reasons this was wrong and started counting the soft breaths against the back of my ear.What I do know is that when I finally went under, I went all the way.No dreams.No Adrian standing on the balcony with hurt in his eyes.No old systems, family trusts, security breaches, or the word “Romano” popping up in my head like a tax notification.Just warm darkness. A comfortable weight around my waist. Sebastian’s bare chest pressed to my back, his breathing slow and deep, his left hand spread over my stomach like he’d forgotten the human body couldn’t be considered private property just because you’d once missed it that much.I should not have felt that comfortable.I really shouldn’t have.But his arms locked the outside world away. His warmth spread from my back into my ribs, settling

  • The Billionaire's Regret   All the Nights Without You (21+)

    I pull him down and kiss him again. That’s the last mistake that still has a chance to be taken back. After that, everything moves too fast and too slow at the same time. Sebastian lifts me without asking. One hand on my waist, the other under my ass, as if my body already knows the route to his arms. My legs automatically wrap around his waist. The kitchen marble vanishes. Dark hallways blur past the corner of my eye like a movie playing too fast. I don’t even remember when his bedroom door opens. I only remember the smell of his soap being stronger here, the scent of warm skin, and the sound of our breaths colliding. The bed meets my back. Soft. Expensive. Cold at first, then warming up fast as his body covers mine. Sebastian doesn’t rush. He props himself up on his elbows, knees pressing into the mattress between my thighs, and his mouth goes back to my neck as if he’s memorizing every inch that used to be his. “I missed you,” he whispers, his husky voice sticking to my skin.

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