Lahat ng Kabanata ng My Boss Will Stop At Nothing To Have Me : Kabanata 91 - Kabanata 100

Lillian's POVI stepped outside, my keys dangled in one hand, phone in the other, and I was halfway down the porch steps when I saw it.A sleek black car parked by the curb.Not unusual in the city, but the way it sat there, still and watching, made something in my stomach twist. My heels faltered on the final step. I stood still, eyeing the vehicle like it might explode or disappear.Then the driver stepped out.A tall man in a trim charcoal suit, his cap tucked under one arm, walking with the precision of someone who had been trained not just to drive... but to obey."Miss Lillian?"I narrowed my eyes. "Depends on who’s asking."He offered a nod and a card embossed with the Caldwell crest. That alone made me flinch."Mr. Caldwell Sr. requests your company."My first thought was Nathaniel. Maybe he was being coy. Maybe this was some elaborate, dramatic way of inviting me to lunch before our date tonight. Typical Nathaniel... charming, theatrical, secretly sentimental under all that b

Nathaniel's POV.Three hours.That’s how long it had been since Lillian left to pick up “a few things.” At first, I didn’t think much of it. She needed air. God knows she deserved a few minutes of peace without Diana or me hovering over her like she was glass.But three hours?“Maybe she’s just walking off the cabin fever,” Diana said, curling her legs beneath her on the couch, her tone light. “Honestly, the way you’ve been babying her, I wouldn’t be surprised if she changed her name and moved to Peru.”I cracked a half-smile. “I’m not babying her.”“You tucked her in last night,” she deadpanned, raising a brow. “With tea and a forehead kiss. Don’t test me.”That got a real laugh out of me.Still... the knot in my chest refused to loosen.I checked my phone again. Nothing. No text. No missed call.“Diana,” I said after a moment. “She said twenty minutes. It’s been three hours.”Diana’s smirk faded.“She had her phone, right?” she asked.I nodded.We exchanged a glance.She sat up stra

Nathaniel's POV.I never expected to see Isabelle again... at least not outside a scandal headline or faded memory.And yet, there she was. On my television. Pale. Thin. Rattled like she hadn’t slept in weeks. The perfect image of guilt wrapped in Chanel.She stood beside Adrian Black.The very man who vanished like a ghost after wrecking half the corporate world with a smug smile and a crumbling empire.But now… he was back.And this time, he wasn’t hiding.The video had only been live on social media for five minutes before it flooded every screen, every headline, every device. My phone buzzed relentlessly on the table beside me. Messages. Mentions. News alerts. Luca was already calling.I didn’t move.I just stared at the screen while Adrian spoke.He looked… worse for wear. Sunken cheeks. A bruise blooming along his jaw. Like he had been punched... recently and repeatedly. Still, that same glint lived in his eyes, like chaos wasn’t just his nature... it was his pleasure.“I know th

Lillian's POVI had barely kicked off my heels when the buzz of the city faded into the soft hum of my apartment’s silence. The moment I stepped in, I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.Nathaniel had wanted me to stay longer. And truth be told, I wanted that too. But the man needed space to focus. His new company was expanding like wildfire, and the spotlight was back on him in full force. He doesn't know about Alexie and I would love to keep it that way.He is doing to well, despite the surprises his father kept pulling on him and I would hate for him to begin to doubt himself thinking he isn't good enough to pull such an amazing investor for his business. I don't want him to know about my involvement.Meanwhile, my own dreams were calling, and if I didn’t give them attention now, they might wither in the shadows of everything else.I dropped my purse on the entryway table and stretched my arms, rotating my shoulders. A quick shower, maybe some wine, and then I’d sit

Lillian's POVA Dream. A Memory.The dream began the same way it always did... soft footsteps on marble floors, the smell of citrus and antique perfume, and a coldness that clung to my skin like dew.I was ten again.Hair tied in a tight ribbon, wearing the pink tulle dress Mrs. Winslow insisted I call “blush,” though to me it always looked like faded shame. The dress itched, but I wasn’t allowed to scratch. Or complain. Or talk out of turn. My fingers, stiff and clenched, rested on my knees exactly as I’d been taught.“You’ll sit like a proper girl, won’t you, Lillian?” her voice echoed from behind me, buttery-sweet and sharp as glass.“Yes, ma’am,” I said, even in the dream.Even now, all these years later, the words rolled off my tongue like a reflex.In this dream-world, the walls were always too white. Too perfect. The sun bled through stained glass windows, casting unnatural colors across the living room floor. Blue. Red. Gold. Like a holy chapel. But I knew better. This wasn’t a