Semua Bab The son of a billionaire in disguise: Bab 161 - Bab 170

Jason rose slowly from behind the desk, eyes locked on Layla’s frozen form. The sharpness in his gaze dimmed, replaced with something softer, warmer... an illusion he wore like a second skin.“You’re angry,” he said, voice smooth. “I get it. But you need to see this from all angles.”She didn’t respond, only glared as he moved around the desk with slow, measured steps.He stopped just inches from her, tilting his head.“If you go against me,” he said gently, “if you lash out… who do you think the world will side with?”Layla’s jaw clenched.Jason continued, quiet and coaxing, “All I have to do is say you were the one betraying me. That you were sneaking around behind my back with Kia. I don’t even have to show proof. One well-placed whisper, Layla, and your entire world crumbles.”Disbelief flickered in her eyes. She staggered a step back, breath catching.He followed her.“But I’d never do that to you,” he murmured.Then, with careful tenderness, he reached up and cradled her face in

Staring ahead, Gunnar reclined on the leather couch in his private office, one ankle resting casually atop his knee, a tumbler of untouched whiskey in one hand. The room was dim, bathed in the warm golden hue of late afternoon light. The only sound was the faint ticking of the antique clock mounted above the fireplace.Across from him, Rene sat stiffly, one arm draped over the couch’s backrest, the other nursing his ribs with deliberate restraint. A thin bruise was forming along his jawline, still fresh from his father’s rage. He wore it like an afterthought, uninterested in pity."Will you tell me who did that?" Gunnar asked, lowering his gaze to the cut."No," Rene said casually.Just then, Gunnar’s phone buzzed on the table between them.He glanced down at the screen, then back at Rene. “Your grandfather-in-law is calling.”Rene smirked faintly, though his eyes remained dull. “Answer it.”Gunnar hesitated only a moment, then tapped the screen. “Okay, boss.”He placed the phone on s

The early morning light spilled through the sheer curtains, casting pale gold streaks across the floorboards. Rene stood shirtless before the mirror, the soft scratch of gauze brushing against his ribs as he wrapped the bruises with practiced ease.The muscles in his shoulders twitched slightly at every pull, his face set in quiet concentration. The wound, though shallow, was enough to remind him of the night before... of passion, of pain, and of the call that followed.He barely flinched as he secured the bandage with a strip of medical tape, the sting long dulled. The quiet was broken by a knock on the door.Maria stirred from the bed, tangled in the sheets. Her voice was groggy, but steady. “I’ll get it.”She padded across the room, pulling his shirt over her shoulders, and cracked the door open. One of the younger maids stood there, neatly dressed with her hands clasped in front of her. She dipped into a polite bow.“Good morning, Miss Maria. Your grandfather requests your presenc

The dining room was uncomfortably quiet without Maria and Rene.Jason sat at the head of the long table, his hand around a half-filled glass of wine, his eyes dull and unblinking. Layla sat beside him, unusually still, her perfectly styled hair tucked behind one ear, a forced smile frozen on her lips. Juan and Antonio were seated opposite each other, eating calmly but watching everyone else with barely disguised suspicion.No one spoke unless necessary. Only the soft clinking of silverware and the occasional shifting of chairs filled the room. A storm brewed behind every glance, every twitch of a brow, every sip of water. It was the kind of quiet that could split open at the slightest provocation.Abruptly, Layla’s phone buzzed sharply against the table, slicing through the silence. She flinched. Glancing down at the screen, her stomach turned."Dad."She cleared her throat gently, offering a courteous smile to the table.“Excuse me,” she said, her voice smooth, though her fingers gri

Maria stood near the window, phone pressed to her ear, her back straight, voice low. She wore a floor-length gown of deep emerald, sleeveless with a high collar and a low, scooped back that exposed the elegant arch of her spine. The silk flowed like water over her body, and her earrings... a cute glimmer of green stones... brought the whole look together with effortless grace.She ended the call with a sigh just as the bathroom door behind her opened.Rene stepped out, adjusting the cufflinks on his crisp white shirt. But it was the suit that caught the room.He wore a midnight black tuxedo, tailored to precision... sharp lapels trimmed in a sheen of satin, shoulders squared, waist nipped, the cut hugging his frame like it had been made by hands that knew him well. Beneath the jacket, the subtle gleam of a black silk vest peeked through, layered over a charcoal-gray shirt with the top buttons undone just enough to be daring, but not vulgar. A small silver pin was fixed on his lapel, a