Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Billionaire's Sunshine : Kabanata 71 - Kabanata 80

Adam LewistonThe bed felt too vast and too cold without him. I blinked against the warm morning light seeping through the linen curtains, stretching my arm instinctively toward the other side of the bed—only to meet an impression in the sheets and nothing else. No warmth. No Lu.I pushed myself up against the pillows, glancing across the room like he might have just stepped into the bathroom or perhaps left a note behind. Nothing. Before the unease could settle in, a knock tapped gently on the door."Come in," I said, voice still heavy with sleep.James stepped in, composed as always, clipboard in hand. “Good morning, sir. Breakfast is ready downstairs.”I rubbed a hand across my face and nodded. “What time is it?”“Just past nine,” James replied.I paused. “Where's Lu?”James’s lips twitched into a barely contained smile. “He’s at the golf field, sir. With the rest of your family.”I raised an eyebrow

Lillium RooseveltWe kept walking—slow, deliberate—down the crushed-stone path that curved along the lake. The water mirrored the mauve of the late afternoon sky; ducks drifted in lazy arcs, unbothered by the quiet tension at the shoreline.Edward let the hush linger until only our footsteps filled it.Then, without preamble, he spoke again.“Adam was always… exceptional,” he said, eyes fixed ahead as though memory were projected on the far bank. “Composed by the age of five. Competitive by seven. Chess, fencing, languages—he mastered them because being second was never acceptable to him.”I glanced at him. The admission sounded matter-of-fact, but underneath it was something that felt almost like pride—and a trace of regret.“He hid it well,” Edward continued, “but he had softness, too—little things he never wanted anyone outside the family to notice.”He breathed out a half-laugh, the sound brittle with nostalgia. “He carried a battered gray teddy bear everywhere until he was nine.

Lillium RooseveltThe air still buzzed with the echo of that kiss. Not the kind of kiss that demanded fireworks or left your heart thudding against your ribs—but the kind that made everything quiet. The kind that held you still in your own body. The kind that made you listen.To the rustling of leaves, a soft murmur of the world continuing on, unnoticed until now. To the breath catching in your throat, a quiet, involuntary gasp that wasn’t for air, but for this. To the way someone says your name without saying it at all, simply by being present, by holding their gaze, by offering their stillness.Adam hadn’t moved far. His thumb still grazed the edge of my hand, a feather-light brush against my skin, like he wasn’t ready to let go. Like he didn’t want to.I didn’t either.For a moment, I just watched him—up close like this, I could see the exact curve of his lashes, the faint trace of a dimple that only showed when he smiled like that. Li

Lillium RooseveltThe sun was just beginning to stretch across the morning sky, golden threads weaving through the gauze of drifting clouds. A quiet kind of joy hummed under my skin as I padded softly down the marble steps, the dew still fresh beneath my soles.My body ached—but it was the kind that made you smile, made you remember. I tugged my cardigan closer around my shoulders, unable to wipe the grin off my face, as I walked around the estate. Everything that happened last night still danced vividly behind my eyes—the way he touched me, the way he said my name like a promise, the way we moved like there was nothing else in the world but the two of us.It wasn’t just sex. It wasn’t just passion. It was something else entirely. Something real.The garden stretched wide before me like a painting brought to life—roses and tulips, all in bloom beneath the early light. It felt like stepping into a dream where nothing loud or cruel could reach us.

Adam LewistonThe city was quiet in that rare, sacred kind of way that only came after midnight. The kind where even London held its breath. We sat at the bow of the boat, the deck beneath us humming gently as it drifted down the Thames. The water shimmered under the moonlight, liquid silver carrying secrets only the two of us would hear tonight.Our coats had long been discarded, draped somewhere behind us. The sleeves of our shirts were rolled just above the elbows—mine wrinkled and soft from the breeze, his folded neatly like he didn’t know how effortlessly he was undoing me. Two buttons undone. Skin just barely revealed. It shouldn’t have mattered. It did. The bottle of wine sat between us, half-empty now. Our glasses tilted in our hands like afterthoughts. Neither of us spoke.But I couldn't stop watching him.Lillium Roosevelt—this soft-mouthed, sharp-witted, maddening contradiction of a man. He sat beside me like he belonged to the night. Elbows on his knees, fingers curled gen