Semua Bab THE BILLIONAIRE’S MYSTIQUE BRIDE: Bab 131 - Bab 139

Somewhere across the wooden walls of Seth’s secluded cabin, Bella stood near the window. Her arms folded tightly across her chest, her gaze fixed outside as if the help she needed lay somewhere beyond the glass.Behind her, Seth sat on a rocking chair, watching her with that familiar mocking smile.“Please, Uncle… you have to help Derrick,” she said quietly, turning to face him. Her expression was composed, but the tightness around her eyes betrayed her desperation. “He risked everything—for us.”Seth let out a slow, cynical laugh. “Us?” he drawled. “Remind me—how exactly did he help me?”Her jaw tensed, but she didn’t flinch.“This whole scheme,” he continued, “was your idea. Because you couldn’t handle Mia landing a damn endorsement deal. And now look where we are.”Bella stepped forward with her chin lifted. “But you didn’t complain when it worked in our favor, uncle. Or when Derrick ran errands smoothly for you too.”Seth didn’t move. He just stared at her, as she held her ground.

Claire looked over her shoulder as she strolled down the hall. “So,” she said, pausing near a double doorway with polished brass handles. “Are you ready to go to your rooms?”Zac’s hand slid naturally into Mia’s, and he offered a wry smile. “Aunt Claire, you do remember I’m married, right? I kind of have to consult my wife before agreeing to anything.”Claire arched a brow and gave a faux gasp. “Oh, of course! I forgot you’re a responsible husband now,” she said with dramatic sarcasm. “Fine. You’ve got three minutes, Your Grace.” With a wink, she turned and disappeared.Zac chuckled softly, then turned to Mia. “We were supposed to head to the hotel,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But… do you think we should stay over tonight?”Mia smiled. “Yeah, sure. Of course, we can. Or… don’t you want to sign the deal? If you don’t, it might seem like it’s because of me.”“Not at all,” Zac said. “I can get that done regardless.She touched his arm. “Then let’s stay. I don’t mind, Zac. Re

A few hours before Zac’s return, the last traces of daylight had melted into night. The moon had already risen, surrounded by stars scattered across the sky.“What would you like for dinner?” Claire asked, stepping into the living room, and sitting next to Mia.“Let me have the kitchen prepare something special. We’ve got everything from roasted duck to grilled sea bass, risotto, fresh greens—whatever your taste buds desire.”Mia smiled, then shook her head. “Thanks, Aunt Claire, but I’m not really hungry.”Claire raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”“Nothing. I’m just… not ready. Can I wait a little?”Claire studied her in silence for a second. “Is it because Zac’s not back yet?”Mia’s lips twitched, but she only shook her head.Claire stepped closer, her voice dropping into something more concerning. “When last did you speak to him?”Mia hesitated. “Before he left this morning. We were only texting.”“Texting? That’s it?” Claire clicked her tongue. “Hmph. He could’ve at least called during

Zac froze, his face barely an inch from hers. For a moment, he just stared at her, as if replaying her words to be sure he heard them right. “As you wish, my lady,” he said with a smirk.He shifted back, releasing her legs gently, and stood from the bubbling hot tub. His soaked briefs still clung to him as he stepped out onto the warm rooftop tiles. She frowned as he turned, walking along the wall.“Where are you going?” she called out, her voice still a little dazed.Zac bent and unplugged her phone from the socket, then reached for one of the thick towels hanging nearby. “Getting your phone. I don’t think we’re coming back here tonight.”He walked to her and offered his hand. She took it.Without effort, he bent down and swept her into his arms. “Hold on to me,” he whispered, already wrapping the towel around her damp skin.She clung to him as he turned toward a dim corridor.“The chef’s gone?” Mia asked, peering in.Zac giggled. “Of course he is. We’ve got no use for him tonight

She stepped out of her room, moving confidently toward the living room. It had been less than a few days since she started staying over, yet she already knew every rhythm of the house.When Fred took his showers—always before lunch.When her mother, Sarah, started dinner prep—usually before five. When the living room TV turned on to play reruns of her mother’s favorite cooking shows.She had mastered it all. And now, she was waiting for the circle to repeat.Then she saw Sarah walking past the hallway and down the staircase toward the kitchen.That was her cue.Samantha followed, casual but precise. “Hey, Mom,” she called.Sarah paused, turned slightly. “Yes, honey?”“Where’s Mr Williams?”“Showering,” Sarah said, brushing her hair back with one hand. “I think he just stepped in.”“Alright. I’ll come help you in a sec.”Sarah smiled and disappeared into the kitchen.Samantha turned and climbed the stairs—quietly.She reached the master’s bedroom door, and paused. She knocked gently. J