Arrogant meets Spitfire: A Billionaire’s Romance のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

“Alessia, are you ready?” Trevor’s voice rang through the speaker. Already. Seven in the morning.I groaned into the phone, trying to hide how tense I was. Do you have to sound this bossy so early?“Ugh… Trevor, it’s seven in the morning. I haven’t even had my coffee.”“Seven thirty,” he corrected smoothly, like he had all the right answers. “And yes, I have to sound bossy. You are my supposed fiancée, remember?”Fiancée. The word tasted like bitter metal in my mouth. I didn’t tell him that. “Fine. I’ll be ready. Don’t wait outside staring at the door, okay?”“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, and I imagined that sly smirk he always carried, the one that made me want to strangle him and forgive him at the same time. “I’ll see you in there.”I hung up and collapsed back into the pillows. Sleep had been my only ally before this nightmare of a morning. Maybe five more minutes…The phone buzzed again. I sat up, groaning. “What now?”“Alessia, I’ve been outside for ten minutes. I’ve called

I never expected bridal shopping to be this stressful. Hailey and Mom practically dragged me through boutique after boutique when I insisted I was done. My protests, “I can’t try on another dress!” were met with collective gasps and tut-tuts. I call Trevor’s mother Mom now, just for simplicity, and honestly, it felt easier than fumbling with formalities under her discerning gaze. The mirrors in every store reflected my frustration. Veils, corsets, satin, lace, sequins, all staring at me like they knew something I did not. I swayed uncomfortably in heels that made my feet scream. Hailey, of course, thought five-inch peep-toes were a blessing. My calves strongly disagreed. “Ally, come on. This one will look perfect for your… you know,” Hailey said, pulling a cream gown from the rack as if she had discovered gold. “Nope. Nope. Nope. I am done,” I said, waving my hands like someone surrendering in battle. Mom added gently, “Sweetheart, please try it. We want you to feel confident.”

After I excused myself from Alessia, I headed to Tiffany & Co.The place looked exactly how you would expect. Clean. Expensive. Untouchable. Everything inside whispered money without trying. The kind of place where people did not ask for prices because they already knew they could afford it.I had been here before. Too many times.Usually not for something that meant anything.Two workers trailed behind me. One was the manager, looking like an idiot trying to keep up, like a puppy waiting for approval. The other was a salesgirl in a slit skirt and eyelashes thick enough to dust shelves. She stared at me like I was a winning lottery ticket.I had been in this game too long not to recognize her type. The kind who would peel off their dignity just to say a billionaire wanted them. They had no self-respect, and that was why men like me treated them exactly how they asked to be treated. As objects. As distractions. As nothing.“Engagement ring,” I said.“Of course, Mr. Reynolds. It is a pl

The guards saw me the second I walked in. Their posture tightened, shoulders straightening, eyes dropping just enough to show recognition without a single word leaving their mouths. No greetings. No nods. Only the automatic discipline that came when someone they could not ignore stepped into their space.I kept walking.Marcello Massimo’s place never needed to announce itself. Everything in it already had weight. Expensive in a way that didn’t seek attention. Old money folded into modern arrogance, a house built on the kind of confidence that didn’t ask to be respected because it already was.A guard opened the inner door before I reached it.Of course.I stepped inside.Marcello was already there.Leaning back like the world answered to him first. White shirt open at the collar, sleeves rolled to his forearms, gold watch catching light every time he shifted his hand. He looked up slowly, mouth pulling into that familiar half-smile like he had been waiting for the exact moment I’d arr

Hailey’s voice carried down the hallway before I even stepped into the room. “Damn. Girl, I could turn gay for you,” she whistled. She stood there, staring at me like she had just discovered a new religion. Her eyes dragged from my face to the hem of the dress, slow and dramatic, like she needed a full minute to process the sight. We had already abandoned the black dress earlier. It made me look like I was heading to a funeral. The green one was her idea. Something that matched my hair. Something that made me look alive. I hated how right she was. The dress clung to my waist in a way that made me double-check it wasn’t glued to my body. The cross-front design pushed my chest forward more than I would ever choose on a normal day. The mid-thigh slits served absolutely no purpose except existing, which honestly was enough for me. I had tied my hair into a sleek ponytail, leaving my back bare. On a regular Alessia day, I would not have been caught wearing anything this bold. B