Semua Bab Married To The Billionaire I Hate: Bab 131 - Bab 140

Smith’s POVThe Hart Enterprise 50th Anniversary Gala was perfect.Every inch of the ballroom screamed success. The walls, lined with art and gold accents, reflected the soft shimmer of crystal chandeliers. The air smelled faintly of expensive perfume and fresh flowers, the latter arranged in massive, white-topped vases at every corner. I surveyed it all…took it in from the balcony before stepping down to join the crowd below.It was a night that I had meticulously planned. Years of hard work, of seeing opportunities and risks like no one else, and now, it all led here. Every seat in the room was occupied. Every person invited was a mover, a shaker, an influencer. The type of people who understood what it meant to be at the top.I adjusted the cuffs of my black tuxedo…custom-made, obviously. Not a thread out of place. My watch gleamed under the soft lighting as I looked out at the sea of faces below. The night was unfolding as I had imagined. Every detail was perfect. Every piece in p

Smith’s POV.It had been days.And I couldn’t get her out of my damn head.Petunia Monroe.That name had stuck in my brain like a thorn I couldn’t pull out. Everywhere I turned, she was there. Not physically. But in my head. In meetings. In the boardroom while numbers were being thrown around, projections, investments, power plays…I saw her face. The way she tilted her head. The way her eyes held mine when we spoke.I had tried to fuck her out of my system. Tried it with a blonde influencer who kept giggling every time I so much as looked her way. Then with a brunette who knew how to moan on cue and say all the right things. Nothing. It all felt like cardboard. Cold. Pointless.She was still there. Her black feathered leotard, the way it hugged her body like it was made for her. That ballet performance wasn’t just art…it was a goddamn message. I didn’t know what it said, but I felt it like a slap to the chest.And I couldn’t stop playing it in my head.During dinner, seated alone at m

Smith's POV.Emily poured herself another glass of red wine, the deep crimson liquid swirling in the glass as she tilted it to her lips. Her reading glasses rested on the bridge of her nose, and her keen eyes skimmed over the pages of a thick manuscript...some up-and-coming author her publishing house had just signed. She looked so at ease in her cozy Hamptons home, legs tucked beneath her on the wide cream armchair, elegant in a charcoal turtleneck and worn jeans. The streaks of silver in her shoulder-length brown hair shone under the golden afternoon light that filtered through the tall windows. Outside, the trees swayed gently, leaves rustling in the wind, and inside, the fireplace crackled, throwing warm, flickering shadows across the Persian rug and soft cream walls."You’ve been awfully quiet," she said, her voice was calm but laced with suspicion, still not looking up. "Either you're hiding something, or you’re about to fire someone again."I leaned back on the opposite couch,

Stevie-lou’s POV.The presidential suite smelled like roses and expensive linen. The suite was bathed in low, warm lighting, gold accents reflecting off glass. Smith had his hand on my waist the moment the door shut behind us."God, Petunia…" he whispered against my neck, his voice thick with emotion and desire. "I’ve waited so long for this night. I’m losing my damn mind."I forced a laugh, soft and shy, the way I knew he liked. “We’re married now,” I said, tilting my head, brushing my fingers through his thick hair. “You don’t have to wait anymore.”His lips crushed against mine, hungry and possessive. He backed me up against the wall, kissing like a man who had been starving for years. His hands fumbled with the zipper of my dress, but I gently stopped him, brushing my fingers over his.“Not so fast,” I murmured. “Let me get us something to drink. You look like you need to relax first.”He grinned, flushed and breathless, hair slightly tousled. “Fine. But hurry.”I turned away, gli

Stevie-lou's POV.The honeymoon ended faster than it started.Smith had to get back to work, back to his throne at Hart Enterprise, where a single misstep meant losing billions and every shark in the water smelled blood. And me? I got a front-row seat to the life I’d only ever seen in dreams. Luxury. Power. Diamonds for breakfast, pearls for lunch. All wrapped in Smith’s smile like I was the luckiest woman alive."I have a surprise for you," he said one evening, stepping into the penthouse still in his tailored navy suit, tie loosened, phone glued to his hand.I looked up from the couch, brushing popcorn crumbs off my robe. "Another one?"He gave a crooked grin. "You're going to want to put on shoes for this."Ten minutes later, we were downstairs, and the valet drove up something that looked like it belonged in a superhero movie. A Bugatti La Voiture Noire. Black. Gleaming. Worth about $19 million."Holy sh*t," I gasped, my mouth hanging open.Smith just chuckled, handed me the keys,