Lahat ng Kabanata ng THE BILLIONAIRE'S RELUCTANT WIFE : Kabanata 61 - Kabanata 70

I BELONG HERE. WITH YOU..The morning light slipped through the tall windows of the Vandell mansion, spilling golden streaks across the polished marble floor. Abigail stirred slowly, her eyes blinking against the brightness. It had been a restless night; thoughts of Carmen’s cold smile, Obetta’s scheming eyes, and the whispers of the women in the club clung to her mind like a heavy veil. She turned on her side and found the space beside her empty. Luke had already risen, as always. His discipline never faltered, no matter the hour they slept.For a while, Abigail lay there, staring at the ceiling. She was no longer the same timid girl who had walked into the Vandell household under a contract. The memories of those first days came back to her her shaking hands, her silence in front of Luke, and the way his gaze had made her feel insignificant and powerful all at once. But the journey had changed her. She had endured whispers, attacks, and schemes from people who wanted her gone. And t

THEN I'LL FALL STANDING...The city’s night skyline glimmered like a thousand jewels scattered carelessly across black velvet, but for Carmen, there was no beauty in it. She stood at the tall glass windows of her penthouse, a glass of red wine swirling in her hand, her reflection sharp against the glittering lights.Abigail’s words replayed in her mind quiet, precise, cutting in their own way. And yet with him, I’m everything you’re not. It wasn’t just defiance; it was mockery. And Carmen couldn’t abide mockery. Not from someone she considered a child playing in a world she didn’t deserve. “You’re too quiet.”Obetta’s voice drifted from the silk-draped lounge chair where she sat, legs crossed, her own glass of wine untouched. She had been watching Carmen with that sly smile of hers, the one that always suggested she had an angle no one else could quite see.Carmen turned, her expression cool. “Silence doesn’t mean surrender.”“It almost sounded like it,” Obetta drawled. “She humiliat

YOU TURNED HER INTO A HERO...The night was far from over, though the glitter of the gala had begun to fade into memory for most of its guests. The chandeliers dimmed, the chatter waned, and yet two very different storms brewed in separate corners of the city.Carmen and Obetta:Obetta slipped into Carmen’s suite at the hotel where the event had been hosted, her gown still sparkling but her confidence long since dimmed. Her painted lips were pressed into a tight line, and her posture, usually upright and commanding, sagged under the invisible weight of humiliation.Carmen was waiting. She hadn’t left the ballroom immediately after Abigail’s triumph; instead, she had lingered, socializing, smiling, controlling the narrative as only she could. But when she finally dismissed her entourage and ascended to her suite, it was with a storm simmering in her chest.The moment Obetta entered, Carmen’s expression hardened. She didn’t stand to greet her. She didn’t offer a drink. She merely fixed

YOU HELD YOUR GROUND...The Vandell gardens were at their peak in early spring, a riot of roses and lilies framed by carefully pruned hedges. The family estate had been chosen to host a luncheon for a select circle of aristocratic women an event that, on the surface, appeared to be a simple gathering of elegance, but in truth, was as much about power as it was about leisure.Kate Vandell had orchestrated the luncheon with her usual precision. Invitations had been sent only to those whose names carried weight. Nothing in the event was left to chance, not the seating, not the menu, not even the order of conversation. And now, as the guests began to arrive, Kate watched them with the poised gaze of a queen surveying her court.Among the guests, Abigail stood out. Not because of flamboyance, but because of her restraint. She wore a soft ivory dress, simple yet graceful, her dark hair pinned neatly back, a touch of pearl at her ears. She moved with careful steps, offering greetings where n

PLANT A SEED OF DOUBT…The day of Kate’s gathering dawned quietly, but there was an undercurrent of tension that threaded through the Vandell estate like a taut wire. Abigail woke to the faint rustle of curtains being drawn aside by the maid, golden light spilling across her bed. She sat up slowly, her mind already working, knowing instinctively that this was not just another evening.She had overheard enough whispers, seen enough glances, to know Kate was planning something. Whether it was a test, a trap, or an opportunity, she couldn’t yet tell. But one thing was certain she couldn’t afford to falter.By mid-morning, preparations were already underway. Florists arrived with arrangements of rare orchids and lilies; the kitchen hummed with activity. Servants carried polished silver trays and cut-glass decanters. This was no grand gala, no sweeping ball. It was smaller, sharper, meant to be intimate and that intimacy made it al