All Chapters of I Hate You, Mr Billionaire. : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Sienna stomped her feet, tapping them impatiently at me like I was some stubborn child refusing to move.“Scarlett, get over here,” she ordered, standing in front of the full-length mirror with that smug little grin she always wore when she thought she’d outsmarted me.I sat frozen on the velvet chair, staring at the glimpse of my reflection in the opposite wall. I wasn’t ready for this. I wasn’t even close to being ready to know that things are going to change so fast and so dramatically only because I did a simple make over.“This is a stupid idea,” I muttered under my breath, hugging my arms around myself. “Lucian will see right through me. His an idiot if he doesn't.”She rolled her eyes so hard I could practically hear them scrape against her skull. “Oh my God, would you stop whining and stand up? Just come here.”Before I could dig my heels in, she grabbed my uninjured wrist, thankfully, and tugged me forward. I stumbled but managed to keep my balance, glaring at her the who

Two days before the grand gala, and I was already tired of pretending to be perfect.Before the main event could officially start, every Montgomery had to show up for this so-called family dinner. Lucian called it tradition, something passed down long before his grandfather was even a thought. To me, it just sounded like another excuse for people born dripping in money to remind themselves they were still better than everyone else.Every year, Lucian and Sienna skipped it. Even though it was a quiet, private dinner with no cameras, no reporters, and no outsiders allowed, they never bothered showing up. Guess sitting in a room full of people who whispered about them not having kids wasn’t exactly their ideal perseverance. But this year, out of nowhere and for some unknown reason, he suddenly decided attendance was mandatoryHe said it was a “good idea” for me to get acquainted with his family, to build some kind of strategy from our meeting. Apparently, I needed to “get into the shoes

The car rolled to a stop in front of the Montgomery estate, and I swear, my heart tried to climb its way up my throat. The place was ridiculous in such it looked like someone had taken a castle, dipped it in gold, and then decided to add a few more zeroes to the price tag just for fun. This house would make you question every life choice that led you to this moment.The front gate alone could’ve paid off my rent for the next ten years. Iron bars, polished to perfection, lined with roses so carefully arranged it felt staged. The driveway stretched forever, lined with manicured hedges that looked trimmed by people who feared losing their jobs if a leaf was out of place.The chauffeur opened my door, and I stepped out, my heels clicking against the marble steps. The air was crisp, cool, filled with that faint scent of pine and money. Lucian followed, adjusting his cufflinks like this was just another boring Tuesday for him. Meanwhile, I was pretty sure my palms were sweating.Lucian glan

“So, when are you and Lucian trying again?”Catherine’s voice sliced through the gentle clinking of silverware like a shard of glass. Every head turned her way.Even the chandelier light seemed to flicker, as though the room itself winced.I blinked once, then twice. Surely, I’d misheard her. But judging by the stiff faces around the Montgomery dining table, I hadn’t. Catherine had really just said that.The silence that followed was deafening.Grandfather, Edmund Montgomery, looked up from his glass with calm authority, though his eyes said, not again. Alexander froze mid-chew. Damien set down his fork, a smirk already threatening. And Lucian sat still beside me, jaw tight, unreadable, his hand resting loosely on his knee.Dinner had been going so well before Catherine decided to set it on fire.Edmund had been pleased, asking about everyone’s business progress like the family wasn’t constantly trying to one-up each other.Alexander went first, straightening his suit jacket like he w

I walk toward the door, my heels clicking softly against the marble floor, each step echoing like a countdown in my head. A countdown till I high tail it and run.My chest is still tight from the dinner. From Catherine. From the lie I shoved down everyone’s throats. My palms are damp. My fingers twitch. The adrenaline hasn’t left me yet, and I don’t know if it ever will.“Miss Sienna,”Whitmore’s calm voice follows me, smooth and unshakable.“Would you like me to escort you to the ladies’ room?”I nod, grateful for a moment of privacy, a chance to disappear from every judgmental eye in that room.“Please. That would be… very helpful.”He steps ahead, silent, steady, like a shadow carved from certainty. I follow, trying not to trip over my own thoughts. The hallway stretches on, grand and quiet, lined with paintings of Montgomerys staring down at us like they know every secret before we even think it. Chandeliers hang high, catching the dim light, throwing patterns across the marble fl