All Chapters of Marrying The Domineering Billionaire In My Sister’s Place: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Natasha’s POV. The silence in our home had grown heavier in the past few weeks. It used to be that even when Sylvester was busy, there was a rhythm to our evenings. He would walk in, pull me into his arms, and tell me some small thing about his day. I would make tea while he loosened his tie, and we would talk about nothing and everything. Those little moments stitched us together. Now, the stitching felt like it was coming undone. He left before I woke up and came home long after I had gone to bed. When I did catch a glimpse of him, it was only a shadow passing through. His words were short, his smile faint. I kept telling myself it was the stress, that he was working hard to fix whatever crisis his company was facing. But deep down, it felt like something was slipping between us, and I couldn’t seem to grab hold of it. Tonight, I wanted to try. I stayed up, determined not to let another night pass without us sharing at least one meal together. I made chicken and chips, somet

Amara’s POV. The walls felt like they were closing in on me. For weeks, the investigation had hung over my head like a shadow that refused to lift. Every meeting with the hospital administration seemed colder than the last, every conversation with colleagues laced with the same guarded politeness I knew was fake. They were waiting for the verdict. They were waiting to see me fall. My father had promised to fix it. He always promised to fix everything. Yet here I was, still in the same mess, the noose tightening around my neck while he played his own games somewhere else. His influence wasn’t stretching far enough here, and I knew if I didn’t act soon, my career would be nothing but ashes. I couldn’t let that happen. I had worked too hard to build the image I had here, even if it was polished on the outside and rotten underneath. People feared, respected, and envied me. Losing that was not an option. I knew the only person who could tip the balance in my favor wasn’t my father

Sylvester’s POV. It had been a few quiet days in the penthouse. The space was exactly what I needed. No interruptions, no noise, no one breathing down my neck about deadlines or investors. Just me, my laptop, and the spread of market data and sketches across the large glass table in the main room. When Jenna arrived that morning, I wasn’t surprised. I had agreed to let her come on certain days, after all. I gave her access to the door and she walked in, setting her bag neatly on the side table and taking a seat across from me with her laptop. “Morning Miss Montes,” I said, my eyes still on my screen. “Morning Mr Mansion,” she replied, her tone light. “You’ve been busy.” “That’s the idea,” I said, typing a few last notes before pushing my laptop slightly aside. She smiled, and for a while, it was work as usual. She reached across the table to hand me a printout, her fingers brushing mine longer than necessary. “You’ve been working a lot lately,” she said, her voice softer t

Sylvester’s POV. I had told myself I was ready to move on after Jenna’s apology, but it was a lie I didn’t fully believe. Every time I thought about her stepping close to me at the penthouse, the memory made my skin crawl. I had accepted her explanation because it was the simplest thing to do—easier than dealing with the mess it would create if I didn’t. But the truth was, something inside me had shifted. The trust I once had in her wasn’t gone, not entirely, but it no longer felt steady. It was standing on fragile ground, like a picture frame hanging by one nail. When her name came up in my thoughts, it wasn’t with the same easy confidence I had felt in the beginning. There was always that extra beat of hesitation, that quiet pause in my chest. A small question I couldn’t shut off: Could she really be trusted again? I hated feeling like that. Jenna had been someone my grandfather respected deeply. He had given her the kind of responsibility that spoke volumes about his fa

Natasha’s POV. The moment Jenna left earlier that day, I was left with an odd heaviness I couldn’t quite place. She had been nothing but pleasant, warm even, but her presence had stayed with me long after the front door closed. It wasn’t anything she did outright, more the way she seemed to know Sylvester so well, slipping little details about him into our conversation with the ease of someone who had spent a lot of time with him. I told myself not to read into it. I told myself she was his colleague, and that it made sense for her to know certain things. But when I tried to bring it up to Sylvester as he came back into the kitchen, the words fell flat. “She’s… friendly,” I said carefully. He glanced at me briefly, his attention already moving to his bag on the counter. “Jenna? Yes, she’s good at her job. Grandfather trusts her.” His tone was distracted, his movements hurried, as though his mind was already somewhere else. “She mentioned you like lemon herb chicken,” I added,