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Fourteen: One Move from Checkmate

Auteur: J.V.Noel
last update Dernière mise à jour: 2025-06-09 15:30:18

Adam Lewiston

The hum of conversation died the moment I sat down. It was a palpable thing, the sudden hush, like a physical wave washing over the room.

Twelve chairs lined the conference table—modern, high-backed, obsidian leather. But only one truly mattered: the one at the center. Mine. It wasn't just the position; it was the ingrained understanding of power, of who held the cards, that made it so significant. I settled back, the cool leather conforming to my frame, and allowed the silence to stretch, to amplify the tension.

The room was glass-walled and sky-high, overlooking the city like it was something I already owned. Which, in many ways, it was. The panoramic view – a glittering tapestry of skyscrapers, bustling streets, and the distant glint of the river – usually served as a source of quiet pride. But today, the view didn’t distract me. It reminded everyone else who they were speaking to. A single glance out the window was a subtle, yet potent, s
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  • The Billionaire's Sunshine    Thirty-Seven: When the Devil Prays

    Lillium Roosevelt "Dominus," I began. He hummed in acknowledgment, low and rough, a sound that vibrated more than it resonated. I hesitated before asking, "If it wasn't you who hit Tommy with the car… then who was it?" He turned his head now, looking at me for real. His eyes, usually veiled with amusement or a casual indifference, were now sharp, calculating. His brows furrowed, eyes narrowing like he wasn’t sure how much to say. It was a dangerous expression on a dangerous man. "Because," I went on, my voice trembling despite my best efforts, "I need to know. I need to know who did it. Who left him in that hospital bed. And don’t tell me it doesn’t matter because—” "I didn’t say it didn’t matter," he interrupted, his voice low but sharp, a steel blade sheathed in velvet. I stopped. Let him speak. Dominus looked away again, his jaw tight, a muscle ticking visibly. The daylight danced on the harsh angles of his face, painting him as both beautiful and terrifying. He looked like

  • The Billionaire's Sunshine    Thirty-Six: The Kindness That Burns

    Lillium RooseveltI turned away from him before I could explode again. My hands were shaking, and my throat felt like it was closing. Every word, every accusation, every defensive barb had tasted like ash, coating my tongue with the bitterness of our shattered past.I moved toward the kitchen, slow and stiff, as if my body didn’t quite belong to me. The silence behind me was heavier than the words we’d thrown at each other. A charged, suffocating silence that pressed against my eardrums. But right now, I needed air. I needed something cold, something real to keep me from unraveling.My fingers gripped the edge of the counter as I reached for the nearest glass and filled it from the tap. The sound of water was the only thing breaking the stillness. I stared at it as it poured, eyes unfocused, like the rushing noise might drown out the memories clawing up from the corners of my mind.Rooftops. The city lights blurred around us, painting his face in

  • The Billionaire's Sunshine    Thirty-Five: What Remains in the Past

    Dominus VanePain was the first thing I felt. Not the dull kind that crawls under your skin. This one was sharp—tight around my ribs, lancing through my side every time I breathed too deep. But then came the second thing. Light. Warm and low, the kind that filled the edges of a modest apartment. And then him. Lu.Kneeling beside the couch, brow furrowed, cleaning the floor with a rag stained in my blood. Not frantic. Not afraid. Methodical. Focused.I blinked slowly, trying to ground myself in the moment. My head was pounding, my limbs heavy. My jacket and shirt were on the floor nearby, tossed carelessly like discarded armor. My skin felt cold, save for the tightness of fresh bandages wrapped around my torso. He’d done that. He could’ve called the cops. He could’ve let me bleed out. But he hadn’t.A slow, dry chuckle escaped my lips. My voice was rough, wrecked from exhaustion. Still, I couldn’t help the smirk that twisted up as I looked at him.

  • The Billionaire's Sunshine    Thirty-Four: Where Monsters Go To Bleed

    Lillium RooseveltI stared at him for a long moment. Then reached for my phone. Because as much as I didn’t want to… I might have to call someone I never expected to. My hands trembled as I held my phone. The screen glared up at me, waiting—expecting me to do the obvious thing.Call for help.Call someone.Adam. Donny. A hospital. Anyone.But my thumb hovered over the keypad, unmoving.Something stopped me.Not fear. Not pity.Instinct.I looked down at Dominus—his chest still rising, barely, his head tilted to the side, hair matted to his forehead with sweat and blood. His white shirt was stained dark crimson, dirt smudged all over his arms and neck. His face was swollen on one side, bruises forming like dark clouds beneath his skin.He wasn’t just injured.He was on the run.The more I looked, the more I realized... this wasn’t some random accident. These weren’t injuries fr

  • The Billionaire's Sunshine    Thirty-Three: A Kiss Before The Storm

    Lillium RooseveltThe door shut again. This time, I didn’t move.I just stood there in the kitchen—staring at the space where Adam had stood not even seconds ago—frozen like the moment itself hadn’t quite caught up to me yet.My fingers slowly lifted to my lips, brushing over them. They were still warm. Still tingling. Still carrying the shape of a kiss that came with no warning, no command, no pretense.Just... him.I swallowed hard, heart fluttering in my chest like it wasn’t sure whether to race or stop entirely. The rest of me couldn’t decide either. My mind tried to retrace every step, every breath, like I’d missed something in the lead-up.One second, I was rinsing dishes and finishing breakfast like it was any other morning.The next...He walked in, kissed me like the world was holding its breath, whispered something that made my knees soft—and vanished like nothing had changed.But something ha

  • The Billionaire's Sunshine    Thirty-Two: Choking on Gentle Things

    Adam LewistonThe first thing I became aware of was the faint scent of cinnamon lingering in the air. It was a warm, inviting smell. My eyes blinked open slowly, the light filtering through the windows muted but steady. I shifted, letting out a low groan as the blanket—not mine—slid down my torso. It was soft, a worn flannel that smelled faintly of sandalwood. It took me half a second to remember where I was.Lu’s couch.His apartment.His blanket.I rubbed the heel of my palm against my eye and sat up, exhaling a breath that felt too heavy for the morning.And that’s when I saw him.James.Standing near the hallway with his usual impeccable posture, tablet in one hand, his expression caught somewhere between amused and painfully polite. He looked like he’d just stepped out of a magazine spread: perfectly pressed suit, tie knotted with clinical precision, not a single hair out of place.“Good morning, s

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