Vegas Vows: A Billionaire's Gamble のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 21 - チャプター 30

Chapter 22: (Sophia’s POV) The first light of the new day was soft gray. It came through the gap in the heavy curtains of Damien's room. I sat in the chair I had pulled next to his bed. I hadn't slept. I just watched him. Now, his breathing was deep and calm. His face was relaxed, free of the hard lines he usually wore. He looked like the man I saw when he was lost in music at the auction, or the man who almost kissed me in the dark. The high fever was gone. I knew because I touched his forehead one last time before dawn. It was warm, normal warm. The heat of the fire was out. I quietly put the thermometer and the used compresses on the bedside table. I had been careful not to make any noise. I didn't want him to wake up and feel shame. I watched him for a few more minutes. His chest moved up and down under the light sheet. He was safe. He was just tired now. I stood up slowly, stretching my stiff back. I needed to leave before he opened his eyes. I needed to keep my own wall

Chapter 24: (Damien’s POV)I found her in the kitchen.The morning light, pale and cool, streamed through the enormous penthouse windows, but Sophia was the warmest thing in the room. She was wearing a simple cotton dress, her hair pulled up in a loose knot. She wasn't busy working on a design or planning a social event. She was just standing at the large marble counter, quietly making tea.She turned when she heard the floorboards creak under my weight. Her eyes, those beautiful, clear eyes, went from calm to instantly worried.“Damien. You shouldn’t be out of bed,” she said immediately, taking a step toward me. Her tone was firm, the same low, soft command she had used the night before. The tone of a nurse, a caretaker.I raised a hand to stop her approach. Not because I didn't want her close, but because I needed the space to get the words out. My body felt weak, but my mind was violently clear. The fear of being weak was still there, a knot in my stomach, but it was overshadowed

Chapter 26:(Sophia’s POV)Three days after the kitchen disaster—the kiss, the sudden panic, and the cold retreat—the air in the penthouse was strange. It was heavy, but not with anger. It felt charged, like the quiet moment right before a big thunderstorm.Damien didn't bring up the kiss. I didn't either. We circled each other like two careful dancers who knew the next step but were afraid to take it. He was distant, but that old Ice King coldness was gone. It had been replaced by a kind of tense, quiet avoidance.He still went to work early, but he came home earlier. He didn't lock himself in the study. He started spending his evenings in the main living room, reading reports on his tablet. He wasn't looking at me, but he was in the same room. That was a big change.The most dangerous part of our day became breakfast.Before, breakfast was always a silent, fast event. Damien ate a protein bar, drank black coffee, and read the financial pages without ever looking up. Now, he made a p

Chapter 28: Falling(Sophia’s POV)The next morning, the penthouse was different. Or maybe, I was different.The sunlight that streamed through the huge glass windows did not feel cold or mean. It felt… warm. It felt like a gentle hand on my skin. The silence in the massive apartment was not the usual, empty, lonely silence. It was a soft, peaceful quiet. It was the quiet of a house that was waiting, holding its breath.I woke up slow. I felt like I was floating in a warm, sleepy dream.I lay in the big, soft bed, tangled in the expensive silk sheets. But for the first time, they did not feel like a cold, borrowed luxury. They just felt like my bed.My body still hummed. It was a low, electric feeling under my skin. I could still feel the ghost of Damien’s arm around my waist. I could still feel the warmth of his body standing next to me in the dark gallery. I could still smell his clean, sharp cologne in my memory.I turned over, burying my face in the soft pillow, and I smiled. It w

Chapter 30: (Damien’s POV) The air in the penthouse study was colder than the Arctic. It was 11 PM, and the room was packed with my lead lawyers and my head of PR. They were sitting at the massive mahogany table, their faces grim, their voices low and sharp. I stood by the window, my back to them. I was looking out at the glittering, uncaring city. I still felt the burning memory of Sophia’s mouth on mine. The single, most real moment of my adult life. And now, it was a weapon used against me. Marcus, my assistant, cleared his throat. “Sir, they are calling it ‘The Penthouse Kiss.’ It broke every platform within an hour.” “The visibility isn’t the issue, Marcus,” I said, my voice low and dangerously even. I turned around. I was the Ice King again. Every trace of warmth, passion, or softness was gone. The Ice King was the only thing that could survive this. Mr. Thorne, my lead counsel, a man as old and cold as granite, slammed a file folder shut. The sound echoed in the massive r