Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Billionaire's Sunshine : Kabanata 31 - Kabanata 40

Lillium RooseveltI stirred just as the first blush of daylight began to seep through the curtains. The light was soft—muted by the sheer drapes—but enough to tell me it was early. Too early for anything loud, or sharp, or rushed. My eyes blinked open slowly.For a moment, I forgot where I was. The disorientation was brief, a blank canvas quickly painted over with the memory of the previous night. Then I remembered—the couch, the blanket, the warmth of last night’s conversation… and Adam.My body was stiff. Not painfully so, but enough to remind me that couches weren’t designed for sleeping—especially not after everything that had happened between us. I sat up, rubbing my hand over my face, still wrapped in the blanket. My thoughts were fogged with the blur of sleep and the echo of his words from last night.“If I stay, you don’t get to ask what it means.”But he’d stayed.At least, I thought he had.I turned toward the

Lillium RooseveltThe door shut again. This time, I didn’t move.I just stood there in the kitchen—staring at the space where Adam had stood not even seconds ago—frozen like the moment itself hadn’t quite caught up to me yet.My fingers slowly lifted to my lips, brushing over them. They were still warm. Still tingling. Still carrying the shape of a kiss that came with no warning, no command, no pretense.Just... him.I swallowed hard, heart fluttering in my chest like it wasn’t sure whether to race or stop entirely. The rest of me couldn’t decide either. My mind tried to retrace every step, every breath, like I’d missed something in the lead-up.One second, I was rinsing dishes and finishing breakfast like it was any other morning.The next...He walked in, kissed me like the world was holding its breath, whispered something that made my knees soft—and vanished like nothing had changed.But something ha

Dominus VanePain was the first thing I felt. Not the dull kind that crawls under your skin. This one was sharp—tight around my ribs, lancing through my side every time I breathed too deep. But then came the second thing. Light. Warm and low, the kind that filled the edges of a modest apartment. And then him. Lu.Kneeling beside the couch, brow furrowed, cleaning the floor with a rag stained in my blood. Not frantic. Not afraid. Methodical. Focused.I blinked slowly, trying to ground myself in the moment. My head was pounding, my limbs heavy. My jacket and shirt were on the floor nearby, tossed carelessly like discarded armor. My skin felt cold, save for the tightness of fresh bandages wrapped around my torso. He’d done that. He could’ve called the cops. He could’ve let me bleed out. But he hadn’t.A slow, dry chuckle escaped my lips. My voice was rough, wrecked from exhaustion. Still, I couldn’t help the smirk that twisted up as I looked at him.

Lillium Roosevelt "Dominus," I began. He hummed in acknowledgment, low and rough, a sound that vibrated more than it resonated. I hesitated before asking, "If it wasn't you who hit Tommy with the car… then who was it?" He turned his head now, looking at me for real. His eyes, usually veiled with amusement or a casual indifference, were now sharp, calculating. His brows furrowed, eyes narrowing like he wasn’t sure how much to say. It was a dangerous expression on a dangerous man. "Because," I went on, my voice trembling despite my best efforts, "I need to know. I need to know who did it. Who left him in that hospital bed. And don’t tell me it doesn’t matter because—” "I didn’t say it didn’t matter," he interrupted, his voice low but sharp, a steel blade sheathed in velvet. I stopped. Let him speak. Dominus looked away again, his jaw tight, a muscle ticking visibly. The daylight danced on the harsh angles of his face, painting him as both beautiful and terrifying. He looked like

Adam LewistonThe cursor blinked at the center of the screen.I sat motionless in my office, one elbow resting on the arm of my chair, fingers lightly pressed against my lips—still remembering the way Lu's lips had felt against mine. Soft, warm, real. A fleeting moment stolen in his apartment.The silence around me was absolute, but inside my head, it was anything but. A cacophony of objections from my logical, calculating self, drowned out by a persistent, almost desperate yearning. My eyes remained fixed on the page in front of me. Le Cordon Bleu – New York Campus. One of the most prestigious culinary schools in the country. No—the most prestigious. And one of the most expensive, of course.It wasn’t the tuition fees that had me hesitating. It was the look I imagined on Lu’s face if he ever saw this. That wide-eyed mix of disbelief and joy. The same look he'd worn when I'd surprised him with a new, industrial-grade blender for the truck, replaci