Semua Bab The Arrogant Billionaire's Redemption: Bab 91 - Bab 100

The first few days after the merger were brutal. My schedule was no longer my own-it was an endless maze of back-to-back meetings, documents that needed revising, strategies that had to be redrafted. Simon's schedule was even worse, and because I was tethered to it, mine followed like a shadow. Most nights, I stayed up long after I got home, Ajax's voice in the back of my mind reminding me how much sleep was needed. That day had been no different. We had just returned from a meeting two hours outside the city, and I was drained, the dull ache in my head only matched by the stiffness in my shoulders. Simon, of course, was no better-though he masked his exhaustion better than I could. His tie hung loose around his neck, the usually pristine knot slackened from hours of tension. "I'm sorry. I know how much you like going home on time," Simon said as we stepped back into Trove's lobby. His voice was low, almost guilty, as if my fatigue weighed on him more than his own. I turned to him,

Simon's POV -The day before- I found myself smiling more often these days. It was strange, almost unsettling, to catch my own reflection in a darkened window with a grin on my face that I didn’t remember forming. The control room of Bells department store glowed with the bluish light of dozens of screens, each one capturing a different angle of the sprawling building. But I wasn’t watching all of them. No—I had eyes only for the feeds where Tina appeared. The thought alone made me pause. Creepy. That was the word for it, and I knew it. Yet the longer I sat there, the less it mattered. Resistance felt impossible. When I had walked in earlier, the room had been full of uniformed security personnel. One look from me and they had scattered like leaves in the wind. They hadn’t dared to linger. Not when they knew what my presence here meant. Half a billion dollars. That was the price of my indulgence. The sum I had wired over without blinking just to have this building—its cameras,

Simon's POV The next morning came with the startling realization that I had developed yet another addiction. I stood by the wide glass window of my hotel room, my gaze fixed across the street on the small restaurant that had become far too familiar. It wasn’t the restaurant itself that drew me—no, it was the memory of Tina, the quiet knowledge that she frequented the place. Ever since I discovered that, my eyes had been pulled to it as if by instinct. And even now, though reason told me she couldn’t possibly be there—early mornings meant she was already on her way to work—still, I stared. Hope made me foolish, chaining me to that view. I shook my head at myself. Pathetic. You’ll see her soon enough. She would be at the office, at her desk, typing with that furrow of concentration she wore so well. I should have been preparing to leave, but instead I stood there, lost, until the shrill vibration of my phone jolted me back. I fumbled with it, trying to shove it into my pocket, when

Another smirk curved my lips as I leaned back, watching her face. “Actually, you have a lot of things you’re hiding, don’t you?” Her countenance fell immediately. The crazed light that had once danced in her eyes dissolved into something more fragile—fear. “I did it for you… I did it for you,” she stammered, her voice trembling, fingers twitching against each other like brittle leaves in the wind. “Yes, I heard you the first time.” A sneer clung to my face. I wasn’t even bothered by the fact that she was unraveling in front of me. Not anymore. I had listened to her deceit too many times—so many that I had lost count. My mother’s words rose unbidden in my memory, slicing through the fog of this present moment. She killed someone. That was what Mother had told me years ago, her tone steel, her conviction unwavering. I should have listened. I should have believed her. But I hadn’t. I had believed Sarah. I had believed her crocodile tears over the woman who raised me. The memory seiz

God, I 'm so hungry. I leaned back in my chair, stretching until my spine popped, both hands tucked behind my head as I stared up at the ceiling. The silence of my office wrapped itself around me like a blanket, steady and soothing. Peace—that was the only word that fit. For the first time in what felt like years, there was peace in my chest. Peace from finally being free of a long-term nuisance. Sarah was gone. Truly gone this time. The relief was so heavy that it made my body feel light, like I was floating. My only problem now was how to face my mother once she discovered that Sarah was no longer in the picture. I could already imagine her expression—those sharp eyes filled with a victorious gleam, the slow curl of her lips, and then the inevitable words: I told you so. She had already given me one of those looks during the morning of the Trove opening ceremony. That memory made me sigh aloud. I’d told her I wanted to keep working in Trove, and without missing a beat, the first t