Semua Bab Marrying The Domineering Billionaire In My Sister’s Place: Bab 41 - Bab 50

Natasha’s POV.I stood in the center of the room, the tabloid still in my hand, eyes lingering on the photograph of me pushing a grocery cart. It seemed so ridiculous that something so normal—so human—could turn into a headline that questioned the financial stability of one of the most powerful families in the country.Sylvester’s grandfather was seated in an armchair by the window. The afternoon sun cast long stripes across the floor, and the ticking of the old grandfather clock filled the silence between us.“I’m sorry,” I said quietly, placing the tabloid gently on the table like it was something fragile.He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he sipped his tea, watching me over the rim of the cup. His eyes weren’t angry, just tired in a way that came from years of dealing with the world’s nonsense.“You should leave things like that to the staff,” he said after a moment, not harshly, but with that tone people use when they’re reminding a child not to run with scissors. “People wa

Sylvester’s POV.I hadn’t planned for things to be awkward between us, but from the moment she walked into the dining room, I could tell something felt off. Natasha smiled when she saw me, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Her movements were careful, her voice a little too polite, like she was holding back.I came home earlier than expected. I wanted to see her. That kiss before I left had stayed with me more than I cared to admit, and even though I didn’t fully know where we stood, I had hoped we could talk, maybe start figuring it out.“Let's eat dinner together,” I said, breaking the silence and she nodded.“I will have that fixed right away. Let me get changed,” she replied, turning to head upstairs immediately but I grabbed her hand, stopping her from leaving.“You just got back from work. You need to relax, let the maids handle that,” I said, still holding onto her.“Okay,” she murmured. Her eyes looked down on my arm that was holding hers.Then I let go of her hand, an awkwar

Natasha’s POV.The pounding in my head was the first thing I noticed when I woke up. A dull ache that throbbed behind my eyes, making me wince as I sat up slowly. The curtains were only slightly parted, but even the soft morning light made me want to crawl back under the sheets.My mouth was dry, and my body felt heavy. It took me a few seconds to realize I was still in last night’s clothes. As I pushed the blanket off and swung my legs down, pieces of the night came back in slow, hazy waves. Dinner… too much wine… Sylvester helping me upstairs.I dragged myself to the bathroom, turned on the water, and let it run while I leaned against the sink. I caught a glimpse of my reflection and paused.There it was. A small, purplish mark just above my collarbone. Then another, closer to my neck.My breath caught in my throat.My fingers moved instinctively to touch the spot, and like a jolt, everything came rushing back.The way I had kissed him. The way he had kissed me back. The feel of his

Natasha’s POV.Sylvester and I hadn’t spoken much since that quiet car ride. The silence between us had changed from tension to something softer—uncertain, but not hostile. Still, every time our eyes met, I felt something catch in my chest. I couldn’t name it, but it made it hard to breathe.The night, he knocked gently on my door. I was already dressed, combing through my hair slowly by the vanity. When I told him to come in, he did—cautiously, like he wasn’t sure if he was welcome.He stood by the door for a while, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wanted to say I’m sorry,” he began, not meeting my eyes. “For touching you that night. You were drunk, and I should’ve stopped it before it got that far. That’s on me.”I froze, brushing halfway through a strand. I had been thinking about that night since it happened—how his hands felt on my skin, how his kiss had made me forget everything else. It wasn’t regret I felt, not even close. But I hadn’t said a word that night, and I could under

Natasha’s POV.Andrew looked at me like I had just confessed to robbing a bank.“Why did you say it was Amara’s diagnosis?” he asked, brows drawn together, his voice low but firm. “You had the answer. You said it first. I heard you.”I shifted awkwardly, fiddling with the strap of my bag. I didn’t want to have this conversation. Not here in the hallway, not with him, not with anyone.“It doesn’t matter,” I mumbled.“It does, Natasha,” he insisted, stepping in front of me so I couldn’t just walk away. “You let her take credit. Again.”“Andrew, please,” I said quietly, trying to stay calm. “It’s not your concern.”He exhaled, clearly frustrated. “So, what? You’re just going to keep letting her walk all over you? Pretend it’s nothing until she completely ruins your confidence?”I looked up at him, tired and already worn down from the day. “It’s easier this way.”“No, it’s not.” He took a step back, visibly trying to hold back more words. “You’re better than that. You shouldn’t have to sh