Semua Bab The Billionaire's Bargain: Bab 41 - Bab 50

PENELOPEThe dress Christian had chosen for me was nothing short of mesmerizing. The champagne-colored gown clung to my body like a second skin, shimmering under the lighting of our suite. Tiny, delicate embellishments were woven into the fabric, catching the light with every slight movement. The bodice fit snugly, sculpting my curves, while the draped skirt gathered at my hip, revealing a daring slit that trailed down my thigh. It was bold—sensual, even. The kind of dress that made a statement without saying a single word. It exuded nothing but elegance. And I loved it!I ran my hands over the beaded fabric, feeling its weight against my skin as I glanced at my reflection. The plunging neckline was enough to draw attention, but it was the way the dress shimmered when I walked that left me breathless. Christian’s gaze had been dark and possessive when I stepped out of the dressing room earlier. He hadn’t said much—just a low hum of approval before offering his arm and leading me out

CHRISTIAN“Oh God,,” The sound of rushing water nearly drowned out Penelope's moan. “Oh God, oh fuck, Chris!”She let out a strangled cry when I slammed into her, the sound of my name reducing my restraints to tatters. Her wet hair was wrapped around my fist, and her hands splayed against the tile as I fucked her mercilessly against the wall. Broken sobs poured out with each brutal thrust.Sometimes, she liked it sweet and slow; other times she liked it fast and rough. There was a certain headiness to knowing which she wanted, and my inkling that she craved the second type was echoed in the way that her pussy gripped my cock.Heat reached down my spine and drummed in my pulse. I wanted to tell her how good she was, how I wanted to bury myself inside her until I was tattooed across every inch of her heart and body and how she would always be mine.But I didn't.I bit the words that threatened to spill out of me into the slope of her shoulder. One hand tightened its grip and tugged her

PENELOPEI landed yesterday, and everything has felt strange ever since.The city was the same—noisy, fast, familiar—but I wasn’t. I was moving in slow motion, like I’d left a part of myself back in Greece. Maybe I had.Jess showed up unannounced this evening with two bottles of wine, her overnight bag, and a giant box of chocolate donuts. She took one look at me—curled up in an oversized hoodie, hair in a loose bun, eyes probably still puffed from the four-hour nap I forced myself to take—and said, “Nope. We’re fixing this.”So now, we were both sprawled on my couch, surrounded by wine glasses, donut crumbs, and my favorite fuzzy blanket. Some romcoms were playing on mute in the background, but we weren’t paying attention.“Okay,” Jess said, resting her feet on the coffee table. “Spill. What happened?”I hesitated. “We've been spending the nights together,” I started. “And in the mornings too but yesterday.. it was a lot.”“‘A lot’ as in emotionally a lot or you-fell-in-love-with-you

CHRISTIANIt had been days since Liam and I arrived in Tokyo, and still, the silence in Ryuji’s home was unnerving.Not the peaceful kind, no. This one was suffocating—heavy with grief, tension, and unanswered questions. His estate was tucked away from the city, cloaked in tall trees and security that rivaled the damn Pentagon. It was always quiet here, but this time, it felt like even the air was mourning.I sat across from Ryuji in his private room, the same room where we’d smoked cigars after major deals, where we toasted wins, where Hajime used to burst in uninvited like he owned the place. Now… It felt like a tomb.He looked different now.Gone were the suits, the silk ties, the polished cufflinks. Instead, Ryuji sat in shiro-muku—a white mourning kimono. A traditional sign of grief. It was pristine, perfectly folded around him, but something about wearing it made him look younger. Smaller. Like grief had carved out pieces of him and left only the shell behind.“I can’t believe h

PENELOPEWe didn’t have time to breathe, let alone sip coffee.The bakery was flooded this morning—moms, teens, tourists, and regulars, all buzzing in like honey bees. Jess and I moved around like women on fire, dodging trays, stacking boxes, calling out orders. It was chaos in the most delicious way, but still… chaos.“Okay, no more pretending,” Jess said, her ponytail flopping as she spun around with a tray of red velvet cupcakes. “We need help.”“I told you,” I said, breathless as I swiped powdered sugar off the counter. “And you agreed. So this is on both of us.”She groaned. “I already put out the notice. The applications are flying in. We’ve got three interviews scheduled for today.”“Three?” My brows lifted.“Yup. Two might be duds, but the third sounded promising. Young. Energetic. Said she loves early mornings and baking shows.”“Sounds like our people,” I smiled, grabbing my apron.By noon, the bakery had finally calmed enough for us to wipe the sweat from our foreheads and