Semua Bab The Billionaire's Sunshine : Bab 61 - Bab 70

Lillium Roosevelt The sound of my footsteps echoed softly on the marble floor as we walked deeper into the mansion, past the towering staircase that spiraled upwards into gilded oblivion, and through a corridor adorned with mirrors that reflected an endless opulent vista and antique vases I was afraid to even glance at too hard. Every surface gleamed, every shadow whispered of generations of wealth. It wasn't just money; it was history, weighty and ancient, clinging to the air like dust motes dancing in sunbeams. I felt like I had just stepped into a world that didn’t belong to me, a carefully preserved museum where I was the only jarringly modern, unpolished exhibit.My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, a stark contrast to the mansion’s silent, dignified grandeur. The tightness in my chest was a physical manifestation of my growing fear. What was I even doing here? My turtleneck and trausers felt like a costume error in this cathedral of couture a

Adam LewistonThe crystal chandelier glinted, casting a fractured, almost clinical light across the mahogany dining table. It was set, as always, to perfection: heirloom china, silver polished to a mirror sheen, the air thick with the scent of duck and my mother’s insistence on fresh-cut lilies. But the usual comforting hum of our family dinner was replaced by a taut silence, a low thrum of unspoken currents.From across the polished length of the dining table, I watched them—my mother, my brother, and Lu.Mother had gone unusually quiet after her initial interrogation. That subtle narrowing of her eyes, the way her fingers rested on her wineglass but didn’t drink—it wasn’t just idle curiosity anymore. It was recognition. Familiarity. A cold, quiet certainty that had nothing to do with Lu’s charming presence and everything to do with something ancient, something buried. And Christopher? He hadn’t stopped glancing at Lu since the handshake. His us

Lillium RooseveltI sat on the edge of the bed, towel draped over my head, slowly rubbing the water from my hair while trying to process the day. The silk pajama pants I wore felt too soft against my skin, too delicate for someone still trying to understand how he’d ended up in a place like this—a palace dressed as a family estate, with paintings worth more than my life and a man who could ruin me with a look.And God help me… that man was currently in the shower.The sound of water had stopped minutes ago, and I was half-lost in a daze of thought when the bathroom door creaked open behind me.I glanced up.And immediately wished I hadn’t.Adam stepped out, steam curling behind him like he brought the storm with him. Hair damp and tousled, droplets trailing down his chest. He was only wearing a towel—just one towel—wrapped dangerously low around his hips, clinging for dear life.My brain short-circuited.I froze

Lillium Roosevelt The moment I stepped onto the path leading to the barn, James two steps ahead of me, I already knew I was over my head. The white breeches clung to my legs like a second skin. The crisp cotton polo shirt wasn’t doing anything to hide the nerves bouncing off my chest. My boots were polished enough to blind someone. And the gloves in my pocket might as well have been part of some costume I wasn’t qualified to wear. This wasn’t just a horseback riding lesson. This was a slow descent into humiliation—with luxury lining every damn edge.As we neared the barn, I glanced toward the field. Catherine sat tall and poised atop her horse like she came from the pages of a regal portrait. Elizabeth was already circling the paddock, her hair tied back, laughter echoing as her horse trotted in steady rhythm. Christopher stood near his own mount, speaking softly to it, hand cradling its jaw like he was whispering secrets to an old friend. They were all… annoyingl

Adam LewistonThe sun hung low behind scattered clouds, casting a cool amber hue across the estate. After our ride, the breeze felt earned—earned through patience, through presence, through something more intangible.I gave Onyx a final pat before letting James walk him back to the stable. My gloves were tucked beneath my arm, and I made my way over the gravel path toward the garden bench where my mother sat, serene and poised with a steaming cup of Earl Grey in hand.She looked up as I approached, her eyes soft beneath the brim of her sun hat. She smiled.“Done pretending you’re a prince for now?” she teased.I chuckled, lowering myself beside her with a sigh I didn’t know I needed to release. “I was never pretending.”“No,” she said, her tone shifting into something fonder. “That’s what surprises me most. You’re not pretending anymore.”I leaned back, resting one arm across the top of the bench, stretching out my legs