บททั้งหมดของ The Billionaire's Redemption Game : บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

CATALINAWhen Josephina heard my threats, her face turned pale as she retreated in shock. She stumbled back, only to be caught by her daughter, who shot a fierce glare in my direction. I rolled my eyes in response, begging the heavens to gift her some discernment in the matter. After all the hints I had subtly dropped in her presence, Rosalia still couldn't understand it.And that was disappointing.Rosalia’s voice seethed with anger, "Catalina, how dare you lay a hand on my mother? I’m calling the police—""If you want to expose me, go ahead!" Josephina interjected, her voice sharp and defiant. Both my stepsister and I shifted our attention to her as she boldly whipped out her phone and thrust it toward me. "No matter how many threats you make, I will not allow you to leave this house. So go ahead and report me to the authorities! I couldn't care less!"Something about her tone triggered my internal alarm. My stepmother was a master manipulator, a woman who pursued what she wanted wi

THEODORE I took Catalina to my penthouse in the city once again after we left her house. After dealing with her father, we both fell into awkward silence as the car drove us to our destination. I pretended to be busy with the business proposals my secretary sent to me while Catalina rested her head against the chair with her eyes closed. Like any prideful female, I knew she needed turn to lick her wounds, so I let her be while debating what to do with her family. My heart softened with pity when I thought about today's encounter. It was obviously not the first time Catalina had endured such disgrace from the people she called family, yet she was still able to retain the fire inside of her. It also occured to me how different our worlds were. Growing up, I had received much love from my family before my parents had met their untimely demise. They were the ones who taught me everything I knew about the world today and then, my grandmother took over, indulging me in love and warmth.

CATALINA An hour later, we officially left Florida behind, soaring through the clouds aboard Theodore’s sleek private jet. By the time we reached Los Angeles, it was already seven in the evening when the plane descended to a smooth stop on the private landing strip. Theodore reached for my hand the moment we descended the steps, his grip firm and reassuring as he guided me toward the waiting car. A shiver passed through my body so I tucked my other hand in my hoodie jacket. The cool breeze of Los Angeles spring made me grit my teeth slightly as I fought my discomfort. I wasn't a fan of travelling other places because of the unpredictable change of weather. Growing up in South Florida, I was used to the summer heat and humid rain unlike this chill that kept prickling my skin. Yet, I gritted my teeth stubbornly to mask my discomfort as I walked with Theodore. After defending me against my father, my gratitude towards Theodore grew until I literally felt the need to repay him a

CATALINAI waited for him to deny it. I wanted him to. There was a part of me that was unwilling to admit that my fantasy of a fairytale romance had finally shattered, but the rest of my mind already knew the cold, hard truth. And it had already condemned him as guilty. “I never invited Madeline to my room,” Theodore replied, his voice hard as steel. “I know you don't believe me, and I don't care. It's the truth, Catalina.”“So save your crappy story for someone else, because I'm not interested,” I spat, my voice rising with rage. The suffocating feeling in my chest was already too much to bear like a hand squeezing the breath out of my lungs. And the fact that he stood there, still lying to my face with that detached expression, made me want to scream.You’re the one who brought it up!” he snapped, his voice rising.“Because I'm tired of being a fool of, Theodore!” I yelled back, feeling my emotions burst open like a dam. “Why the hell would a woman have access to your room unles

CATALINA When I finally returned to Theodore's bedroom, I met him on the bed with his tablet, leaning against the headboard. He was dressed in soft grey pajamas, the fabric hugging his muscled frame just enough to draw the eye. His hair was damp and tousled, like he’d just stepped out of the shower and somehow, he still looked effortlessly perfect.When he finally raised his hair, his eyebrows scrunched slightly as he readjusted his glasses. He asked. “Why are you coming back so late?” My heart tightened in my chest. Even when he wasn't trying, he still looked like a model who walked straight out of a magazine. A part of me didn't even want to speak to him, but we did have an agreement about communicating with each other. Even when it was hard. So I did the only thing I could. Instead, I peeled off my clothes, slowly and deliberately, not caring that his eyes followed every movement. “What else could I have been doing?” I said, letting the sarcasm coat my tongue. “I was busy play