All Chapters of The Secret Billionaire in Aisle 9 : Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

The sun hadn’t even fully risen when the parking lot outside the BuyMore store was already stirring. A soft glow peeked over the rooftops, streaking the sky in shades of amber and lavender, but down at the ground level, dozens of customers were already forming a line by the sliding doors.Some had lawn chairs. Others sipped steaming coffee from paper cups, their breath forming tiny clouds in the early morning air.Inside the store, it was a different kind of frenzy.“Naomi, do we have enough wristbands for the first hundred giveaways?” Callie called out as she zipped past the front counter, clipboard in hand.“We’re good! I counted twice!” Naomi replied, already tying the last “Welcome Back!” balloon to the checkout divider.“Marcus, how’s the stock level on the flash sale endcap?”“Everything’s loaded, labeled, and barricaded,” he said with a satisfied grin. “No one’s charging that shelf without a tactical plan.”Callie

Brenda was the first to arrive that morning.The lights were still off, the soft hum of the backup generator vibrating faintly through the floor as she unlocked the front doors of the BuyMore store. It had become a kind of ritual lately—her quiet minutes alone with the building before the buzz of customers, coworkers, and office calls took over.She turned on the overhead lights, one switch at a time, the fluorescents flickering awake in a long, blinking wave down the wide center aisle.For a few long moments, she just stood there in the silence of the bright, empty store.Everything had changed. But somehow, she still felt at home.Behind her, the automatic doors parted with a familiar ding.“You’re early,” Marcus’s voice came with a teasing edge as he stepped in, holding two hot coffees in a cardboard tray.Brenda didn’t turn around. She smiled to herself, instead.“I wanted a moment alone with the shelves bef

The golden light of a late Saturday afternoon filtered through the windows of Marcus’s modest apartment, casting long shadows across the floor and painting Brenda’s curls in a soft amber hue. The week had been a whirlwind—the reopening of the BuyMore store had been a massive success, and customer traffic hadn’t slowed for a second. But now, as the buzz settled and the store began to find its rhythm, Marcus and Brenda finally had time to just… be.Brenda sat on Marcus’s couch, legs folded beneath her, a mug of tea warming her hands. She wore one of his oversized hoodies, the sleeves drooping past her wrists, and a pair of leggings that had seen better days. Marcus was in the kitchen, preparing what he proudly called “Bachelor Chef Pasta”—a blend of garlic, cream, leftover rotisserie chicken, and a reckless amount of parmesan.“Smells good,” Brenda called.“Don’t sound so surprised,” Marcus teased, his voice half-drowned by the sizzle of garlic in the pan.

The moon hung low over the city skyline, a sliver of silver light cutting across the windows of Eli’s high-rise apartment. From the penthouse balcony, the world looked distant, almost like a quiet painting. Soft jazz hummed from the sound system inside, but most of it was drowned by the breeze and the slow rhythm of two people standing still in their own thoughts.Eli leaned on the railing, a glass of untouched sparkling water in hand. He wasn’t drinking tonight—his nerves were enough of a buzz.Beside him, Callie was a picture of contradiction. Her arms were crossed, more out of habit than anger, her gaze somewhere out beyond the skyline. She wasn’t saying much—but she hadn’t left either.That was something.“Still think I’m secretly building a space station with all this money?” Eli asked, voice light, teasing.Callie didn’t smile right away. She blinked, slow, deliberate. “No. Just half-expected there to be a laser grid around the art.

The night air was soft as silk—one of those rare spring evenings that carried the promise of something new. BuyMore had closed hours ago, the storefront dark, but Eli and Callie lingered at the edge of the parking lot under a quiet lamplight, where shadows of blossoms danced on the pavement. Neither had said much since the final customer left. The new store layout had passed its biggest test yet, and the staff had handled the rush with efficiency and heart. For the first time in a long while, there had been no lingering dread, no uncertainty. Just movement. Growth. Hope. Still, silence clung to them like dew, comfortable and heavy all at once. “I can give you a ride,” Eli offered, keys dangling in his hand, the glint of his metal keychain catching the light. Callie hesitated. Then nodded. They got into his car—his “normal” car, the one without the tinted executive windows or sleek high-gloss shine. Just an ol