All Chapters of The Irresistible Billionaire: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

A pool of tears to swim in? No, there’s no such thing. I might be in pain, but I won’t cry over a man who saw me as just another woman to fuck.“You’re seriously not crying over that stupid man,” I sniffled, staring into the mirror.A woman stood on the other side—red eyes, red nose, red ears—her whole face blotchy and masked in tears.“You’re stupid, Cassidy,” I sobbed, eyes locked with my own reflection. “Tamara warned you a million times that this was just a job. And what did you do, huh?”I grabbed a tissue roll and wiped my tears straight from it, not even bothering to tear a piece off.“You actually hoped there was a chance. That maybe he could—ugh!” I yanked my hair, and another round of tears spilled out like betrayal in liquid form.Wasted, I took another swig from the bottle and winced as the liquor burned its way down to my stomach.My vision blurred and doubled.I’m not a good drinker, but tonight? I think I am. One little bottle, and I’m still not passed out. That counts

Headache? Check. Hangover? Check. Heartbreak? That’s the real question mark. But nothing hurts more than pure, unfiltered embarrassment.I remember sticking my face in the toilet bowl last night, vomiting like a possessed raccoon. Thankfully, Stefano was there—to hold my hair back, rub soothing circles on my spine, and treat me like a delicate liability.And yes, I’m embarrassed as hell to the point that I can't think of a way to thank him or do something to show how much I appreciate what he did last night.I didn’t even know when he left. All I know is... he took care of me.“Well, if it wasn’t because of Johnny, none of this would've happened,” I muttered, gritting my teeth.“First, the thing about him getting married—whatever the hell that shitty as news was—and then Tamara just had to throw me in the trash after using me up. Then she introduces whoever that Gwen Sanders chick is... and he just had to go and choke me with reality.”My eyes drifted toward the vase sitting in the mi

"My Lady Masquerade..." he whispered against my ear. His voice hung in the air like incense. Heavy. Delirious. Sacred.His fingers grazed the small of my back, like he was reading braille on my skin.I couldn’t control my thoughts anymore. Everything was jumbled in my head, so loud and tangled I couldn’t think straight.My back arched as I felt his heat behind me. It scorched. It made me crave the kind of mistake I wanted to make—but knew I shouldn’t.This game he plays... it’s dangerous. He’s laid out so many traps, and if I move carelessly, I’ll fall again. Like I always do.I turned around, trembling from the aftershock of his touch."You're insane," I said, managing not to stutter, to not let him hear how I faltered."Am I?" he murmured, stepping closer until our bodies were nearly touching. “Or did you just never think I’d figure it out?”I didn’t answer. Because a part of me always knew he would.He brushed a strand of hair from my face with an intimacy that made me want to both

Five hundred days had passed since I left Manhattan—and I’m still counting. It’s been almost two years since I walked away from Johnny... and I’m glad to say I’ve actually found a better version of myself.I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss him—that I didn’t dare look his name up in the news or flip through magazines, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face.There was a huge part of me that thought maybe he’d come looking for me. That he’d plaster my name and photo on billboards, or call the police and report me as a missing person. Me.But I guess even if I vanished off the planet for more than a whole day, no one would come searching.Back then, I thought he meant every word he said. I felt his words. They sank straight into my chest like they belonged there. I heard the sincerity in his voice when he told me he liked me... that he wanted me... that he needed me.But everything has an expiration date.Just like the ice cream I’m eating right now.“Where did you get that?” Gabriella

Paralyzed.I forgot to breathe. To move. For a second, I just froze—still crouching by the stage, partly hidden behind the light rig.My grip on the clipboard tightened like I could somehow use it as a shield.How come he’s here? His name wasn’t on the guest list. I double-checked it last night. Reviewed it again this morning. No changes. No cancellations. Why is he here?Did he come uninvited? Why did they let him in?Shit! What the hell am I supposed to do?He can’t see me. Not like this. Not after I built a whole new life pretending he doesn’t exist. Which is partly true.My heart hammered against my ribcage, like it was trying to claw its way out of my chest. I stayed rooted to my spot, fighting to calm myself—but just sensing how close he was made it impossible to stay in control.“Miss?” he called again. This time, closer.What am I supposed to do?Do I face him and pretend I don’t know him? Act cold and detached? No—I can’t. I know myself too well. I’d crumble.You’re such a pu