All Chapters of Billionaire: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

​The silence in the Drake Hotel’s private drawing room hung thick, heavy, and lethal.​Genevieve von Brant stared down at the crisp white legal document sitting on the mahogany desk, her manicured hand hovering a millimeter above her untouched glass of champagne. The icy blue eyes that had effortlessly commanded European banking boards for a decade flashed with something rare and entirely unpracticed: genuine shock.​"You're bluffing," Genevieve said softly, though the aristocratic lilt in her voice had thinned into a razor-sharp edge. "Smith Enterprises was stripped of its liquid reserves during the federal inquiry. You don't have the leverage to acquire Von Brant’s North American paper."​"I didn't use Smith reserves," I said, stepping closer until the toe of my Christian Louboutin pump almost touched the hem of her emerald silk gown. "I used the newly unified Westside Infrastructure Trust—the forty percent community equity share Matthias and I established three days ago. Your North

I looked down at the silver velvet box resting against the dark green blotter.​"Matthias," I murmured, my voice dropping into a breathless whisper as my fingers hovered over the soft fabric.​"Open it," he said softly, his hand resting on the small of my back, his thumb tracing a comforting arc through the heavy wool of my suit jacket.​I unlatched the delicate silver clasp. The lid popped open, revealing a heavy, antique signet ring made of solid, unpolished sterling silver. Engraved deep into the metal face was the original 1888 seal of the Smith Founding Charter—the double-crested oak that my grandfather had used before my father tore down the family traditions in favor of speculative corporate debt.​"Where did you find this?" I breathed, lifting the heavy ring from its velvet bed. It was cold, solid, and carried an undeniable, historic weight.​"Natty," Matthias revealed, a warm, fond smile touching his lips. "She had it hidden in her personal safe at the athletic club. She gave

​"The Chairwoman says yes," I whispered, before his mouth could even ask the formal question.​Matthias’s breath hitched. A slow, breathtaking smile broke across his face—a look of pure, unadulterated joy that transformed him completely, stripping away the last remaining shadows of his past.​He didn't pull a ring from his pocket. He didn't drop to one knee in the damp river mud. He simply slid his gloved hands up to the nape of my neck, tilting my face up to his, and brought his mouth down over mine in a kiss that was slow, deep, and thick with an overwhelming tenderness.​It was a kiss that sealed everything—the long, cold nights in the Smith Tower, the desperate battles against Arthur's auditors, the quiet mornings in the cedar bluff house, and the victory over Genevieve’s European cartels. It tasted of cool autumn air, rich coffee, and an unshakeable, eternal future.​When he finally pulled back, his chest was heaving, his dark eyes shining with a gold fire that consumed every rem

​The morning light at the North Point estate didn't carry the harsh, demanding glare of the city. It filtered through the high, ancient maples, scattering soft gold coins across the dark hardwood floors of our master suite.​For six months, the high-rise battlegrounds of Chicago had felt like a distant country. The press calls were managed by Rachel, the construction crews on the Westside were quietly breaking records under Arthur’s meticulous supervision, and the international markets had finally accepted the unshakeable reality of the Smith-König merger.​I woke up slow, drifting out of sleep to the sensation of warmth against my back and a heavy, protective arm locked securely around my waist.​Matthias was still asleep, his breathing deep and even against the nape of my neck. In the quiet of our home, far from the polished marble of boardroom floors, he looked completely relaxed. The faint line between his dark brows had vanished months ago, replaced by an easy, effortless peace t

​The glass-and-marble lobby of the Park Hyatt was choked with camera crews, halogen spotlights, and security personnel by seven-thirty in the morning. Word of Arthur Smith Senior’s miraculous resurrection had leaked to the financial wires at dawn, sending the Midwest trading floor into a tailspin.​Our three-car motorcade pulled up to the curb like a fleet of warships.​When Matthias stepped out first, his tall, imposing frame clad in a tailored charcoal suit, the press line surged forward with a deafening barrage of questions. He didn't offer a single glance toward the flashbulbs. He reached back into the rear seat, his large, warm hand encircling mine, guiding me out onto the pavement with effortless grace.​Natty stepped out right behind us, wearing a sharp, structured ivory blazer, holding an encrypted leather briefcase containing three years of certified municipal audit logs. Her jaw was set, her eyes fierce and watchful.​"Stay close to me," Matthias murmured against my ear as w