Todos os capítulos de The Billionaire's Bargain: Capítulo 61 - Capítulo 70

CHRISTIANThe scent of espresso lingered faintly in the air, but the bitterness on my tongue had nothing to do with coffee. It was barely past noon when Edward strolled into Hilton Tech like he still owned it. Technically, he owned it like five percent. But today, I wasn’t in the mood to play heir and dutiful son.My father wore power like cologne—woodsy, aged, and suffocating. The faint scent of cigars clung to his tailored jacket as he stepped into my office, uninvited as always.“Christian, Amanda said you were free,” he said casually, like he was asking about the weather. Like he hadn’t dropped a bomb on my life just nights ago.“I was,” I replied, not looking up from my laptop. “Emphasis on was, you don’t have a meeting scheduled.”“I didn’t come for business.”“Then you shouldn’t have come here at all.”“You haven’t returned my calls,” he said, as if that was surprising.“Didn’t think we had anything to talk about.”“We do,” Edward said, stepping further in. “About Alex. You wer

CHRISTIANThe warehouse smelled like blood and cheap cigars. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead, buzzing faintly above the sounds of fists meeting flesh. Somewhere behind me, a man was crying. Or gagging. Or both. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t bother looking.Liam stood to my right, watching like this was cable entertainment. Ryuji leaned against a steel pole, his arms folded, looking like a man enjoying his own twisted opera.His son — the second one, not the dead one — was crouched near the guy they were working on. Young. Brash. What was his name again? Renji.Still had too much to prove. The man on the floor writhed as someone poured salt into his wounds — literally, not metaphorically. Japanese discipline.I kept my distance. I never got my hands dirty. That’s what Liam was for.My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw her name on the screen: Penelope.Just a message. No call. I stared at it. Thought about opening it. About reading whatever it was she had to say. Bu

PENELOPEThe sliding doors flew open before I could stop them. The hospital’s lighting hit me like a slap, and my heart was racing so fast it felt like it was trying to outrun time itself.“Hilton,” I said breathlessly to the nurse at the front desk. “Christian Hilton. He was brought in—stab wound—”“He’s in surgery,” she replied gently. “They’re stabilizing him. You can wait down the hall—right side. There’s a lounge.”Surgery.I nodded and turned down the hallway, ignoring the sterile smell of antiseptic that filled the air. I hated hospitals so much, my mum had been to the most expensive of hospitals and yet there was nothing anyone could do to save her.Liam stood when he saw me, his suit jacket was wrinkled, and his hair a mess. He didn’t say anything at first. He just held out his arms.I rushed into them, hugging him. “He’s not dead,” Liam murmured into my hair. “Don’t think like that. They said he lost a lot of blood, but we brought him just in time.”I pulled back, wiping my

PENELOPELiam’s directions were clear—turn right past the entryway, second hallway, third door. But still, I found myself tiptoeing like I’d broken in. Which, technically, I had. Into his space. The penthouse was… quiet. Not dead-quiet, but quiet. Warm lights glowed against the smooth ash-colored walls. But what caught my eyes first was the POP, the grand pristine white ceiling design, it was sleek and very geometric, it had soft gold lights tucked into each corner like a hidden treasure. I remember one time when Christian and I had followed his friend Alan, to go get something nice for his wife, Naomi in Greece. While Alan was dealing with the payments, Chris and I had sat down together just criticizing just how awful the POP of that store was. It was so awful, so not straight. It pissed Chris so much he almost made a call to have the shop closed down. Had to tell him it wasn’t any of our concern, and he shouldn’t be shutting down a business because of their poor POP.So it’s nic

PENELOPEIt had barely been a full day since Christian got home. He was still moving like someone had unplugged and rebooted him. Which was fair—being stabbed probably rearranged your organs and your attitude.Definitely the attitude.Liam had walked in not long after breakfast with a smirk and a mission. “Ryuji wants a feast,” he said. “He called this morning. Said it’s long overdue and he insists you bring your best work. His words. Not mine. And it’s cause to celebrate that Christian is still alive.”I raised a brow. “Feast? As in a full-blown celebration? He’s alive, yes but a full-blown celebration? Do the Japanese go out of their way like this?”“As in you’re baking, I’m shopping, and Christian’s staying his ass put until further notice. And yes, they actually go out of their way.”I rolled my eyes. “Tell him I’ll do it. But he’s covering ingredients. Imported butter isn’t cheap.”“Already said he would.” He said with a sly smirk plastered on his face. “Told me to tell you to ma