Semua Bab The son of a billionaire in disguise: Bab 141 - Bab 150

Maria didn’t flinch. Not even a blink. Jason’s voice and words were provoking enough, but she was far too seasoned, too calculated, to give him the performance he wanted.“Harassing?” she repeated, her tone light, almost amused. She looked up at him with a faint, pitying smile. “Jason, you really should stop mistaking concern for confrontation. It makes you look… insecure.”Clarisse’s eyes widened slightly, her lips parting in quiet surprise at Maria’s restraint, though Maria caught the small twitch at the corner of her mouth.Still trying to push his narrative, Jason scowled. “You have no business interrogating her like that.”Maria turned to Clarisse, giving her a small, respectful nod. “My apologies, Mrs. Leonti. I let worry get the better of me.”Clarisse placed a gloved hand gently over Maria’s wrist. “No harm done, dear. I understand.” Her gaze flicked briefly to Jason, a flash of something critical behind the practiced warmth.Without another glance in his direction, Maria walk

The soft clink of silverware and the murmured conversations of other customers barely reached Maria's ears as she followed Rene through the charming little bistro he had chosen.The place was tucked away on a quiet street... one of those trendy new spots where the lighting was warm, the walls were lined with eclectic art, and the staff treated every customer like royalty. It was the kind of place Rene always gravitated toward... intimate, curated, just a little indulgent.“Here we are,” Rene said gently, pulling her chair out with a flourish. “The best seat in the house.”Meeting his gaze for a second, Maria allowed a small smile as she sat, smoothing the hem of her skirt as she settled in.She wasn’t fully relaxed, but she appreciated the gesture. He always knew how to charm. Even now, after the tension that lingered like a fog around them, he knew exactly how to make her feel special.The waitress approached with a practiced smile. “Welcome to Villa di Fiore. May I get you started w

The elevator doors slid shut, sealing Jason inside with his grandmother. The silence settled thick between them, unforgiving, heavy, like a noose tightening with each breath.Madam Rossi turned slowly, her gaze fixed on him with the cold weight of generations behind it."You should be ashamed," she said, her brows snapping together. "You stand there, hands in your pockets, watching your fiancée crumble under scrutiny... and you say nothing? You let her lie to you-to us. Do you think silence makes you honorable?"Jason’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing.Madam Rossi’s lips curled into a scowl. "You are a Rossi. You were raised better than this. If Layla is slipping, you are the one who should rein her in. It is your responsibility to keep your woman in check."His nostrils flared. “And what about Maria?” he snapped.Looking away from him for a second, Madam Rossi’s eyes narrowed.“She’s married, isn’t she?” Jason pressed. “To a man who doesn't even act as a Rossi should. But do I see

The silence stretched, taut and expectant. The question lingered in the air like smoke... where was he this morning?Rene’s gaze swept the room, pausing momentarily on each face. They were waiting. Wanting. Ready to pounce.He could feel Maria beside him, her stillness louder than any words she could speak. And that silence... her silence, was what cut the deepest.He inhaled slowly, deliberately. “I wasn’t with Layla.”“Then who?” Madam Rossi’s voice cracked through the air like a whip.Staring at the stone-cold faces in the room, Rene hesitated, knowing full well the weight of the name he was about to speak. “Mr. Gunnar.”The room went still. Like a spell had been cast. Even the distant ticking of the grandfather clock seemed to pause.Mr. Rossi’s expression barely shifted, but Rene saw it. A flicker. Not a surprise. Not suspicion. Fear.It was enough.Rene locked eyes with the family patriarch and took a step forward, voice steady. “Yes. I was with Mr. Gunnar this morning. He reque

The morning sunlight spilled across the marble floor, golden and warm but not quite enough to soften the tension thickening inside the Rossi estate. Even though it has been two weeks, the walls in the mansion still whisper about the day Jason was slapped and every soul knew about it now.Madam Rossi stood in the hallway, quiet and still, her silk robe brushing softly against her ankles as she listened to the muffled voice of her husband behind the half-open door to his study.He had been up since before dawn, pacing, commanding, orchestrating this celebration as if the fate of the family hung on the thread of imported seafood and ambient lighting.She took a sip of her coffee. Bitter. She didn’t flinch.Inside the study, Mr. Rossi was in full control mode.“I don’t care how rare they are, Alberto,” he snapped into the phone. “You find the scallops. Pay triple if you must. I won’t serve frozen shrimp like some sad cruise buffet.”A pause, then he waved his hand as if dismissing a perso