All Chapters of I Hate You, Mr Billionaire. : Chapter 31 - Chapter 37

The air between Lucian and me had shifted significantly. It wasn’t warm, not even close, but it wasn’t boiling hot anymore either. We weren’t at each other’s throats every second of every day, and that counted for something.He didn’t scowl when I walked past him in the hall, his sharp jaw relaxed instead of clenched. I didn’t mutter insults under my breath when he sat across the dining table, his silverware clicking against the china like it was the only sound in the room, making sure it irritated only me. Sometimes he even nodded at me in greeting, the kind of nod you give a neighbor you don’t particularly like but have learned to live with. I took it. At this point, peace was priceless.The real surprise came the evening I found a bottle of wine waiting in my room. The curtains were drawn against the night, the lamp casting a golden glow across the sheets. The bottle sat neatly on the dresser with a folded note propped against it. Not for me, obviously. The note was short, clipped

“What now?” I muttered to myself but loud enough for Lucian to hear me.Lucian strolled all the way back to his seat and collapsed on it like the weight of the world was sitting on his shoulders. His jaw flexed, his fingers tapping against the armrest, his eyes distant and hard. “We wait,” he said quietly, as if those two words were supposed to make any sense.“For how long?” I demanded, tilting my head at him. “And what’s this gala you mentioned that feels like some forbidden topic no one dares to talk about?”He rubbed his temple, let out a slow breath, and looked at me. Before Lucian could answer, Sienna burst the door open again. The door flew so hard it bounced off the wall twice and she stepped back into the room. Then grabbing the door frame and slamming it like a child throwing a tantrum. With her nostril fuming, she stormed over to the couch Vince dumped her in previously and slumped in it.“The gala,” she repeated, as if she was eavesdropping “It’s this mandatory fami

Three weeks. That’s how long it had been since I agreed, against every sane bone in my body to play Sienna’s double. To be her stunt double. Three weeks of etiquette lessons, posture drills, endless practice dinners, and correcting every little thing I did wrong. Sit straighter. Walk slower. Don’t grip the fork like you’re about to stab someone. Always keep eye contact. Smile but not too much. Chin up. Shoulders back.If I heard “channel Sienna” one more time, I swore I’d throw my wine glass off the balcony and scream so much profanity even the next door neighbor will chant them in their sleep.But I had to admit, I learned way more quickly than expected. I mean High society wasn’t new to me. I’d been born into it, raised in it, shoved into cocktail dresses and charity galas before I even hit puberty. So the basics came back fast. The real struggle was Sienna’s personality. Calm. Reserved. Graceful. Always measured, like every word she spoke had been weighed and tested before leavin