All Chapters of ALMS TO LOVE: Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

Charles moved closer, his hand touching hers. "You were perfect last night," he murmured, his words a gentle admission. "I can't stop thinking about it."Fiona's heart skipped a beat with his honesty. She'd always thought she'd believed in love in theory—had dreamed of it but never considered it could be hers. But with Charles, something was different. She didn't know if it was the intimacy that had passed between them or the trust they'd grown, but she felt solid, like she'd discovered something real amidst the turmoil."I. I never thought I could feel this way," Fiona whispered, her voice gentle, a bit vulnerable.Charles's face relaxed, and he reached out, sweeping her into his arms. "Neither did I," he confessed, his voice low but full of emotion. "But now that we're here. I don't want to let this slip away. I want more of this. More of us."She nodded, her hand resting on his chest. "I’m scared," she admitted, the words escaping her before she could hold them back."Scared of wha

The Paris evening leaned soft and golden against the hotel windows, pouring a warm light upon the room where Fiona and Charles were curled upon the velvet couch. The distant hum of the city came from below, the Seine whispering against its stone embankments, and the faint laughter of unknown people going beneath the hotel balconies floated up like a song. Fiona was still gasping for breath from the night—an evening that had been breathtaking and crushing in equal measure.She rested her head against Charles's shoulder, the mere comfort of his being still so new, so dizzying. That was when her phone buzzed, shattering the quiet between them.Fiona blinked at the name on the screen: Valeria Jayne. Her best friend, her rock, her lifeline. She smiled gently, already preparing."Val," Fiona replied, answering, amusement tinging her voice, "what's up?"At the other end, Valeria's laughter erupted immediately, radiating and unmistakable. "Don't 'what's up' me, bestie! You know why I'm callin

The rain had come back to Makati in a slow, measured pace thin silver ribbons streaming down the high glass of the Drams condominium. Marie sat in front of her vanity, the soft golden light of the ring lamp slicing through the twilight darkness. The city at her back throbbed faintly in neon, red and violet twirls curving through the curtains.Her introspection was tranquil, composed, even lovely once more. Her tempest was hidden behind thoughtful perfection smooth foundation applied, a colorless lipstick, hair pulled back into a refined bun. She was in a cream-colored blouse that softly reflected light, the sort that conveyed poise and regret in equal measure.She had spent the afternoon rehearsing her tone.By this point, the phone was placed on its stand, the video call screen poised, the little icon shining.Charles.Her finger lingered a fraction longer than required before clicking "call."The ringing started three notes, four and she saw her reflection once more in the rim of th

The night outside was drenched in silver light, the city exhaling through the glass. Paris stretched out to infinity from the balcony its roofs glowing softly under the drizzle, the Seine sparkling like a dark vein. Inside the suite, all smelled of rain and red wine and something more delicate: a peace that was too perfect to be lasting.Fiona stood barefoot at the window, enveloped in Charles's robe. Her hair was wet from the shower, loose and unbrushed, curling around her shoulders. She'd been reading through papers earlier—ridiculously mundane, she couldn't help thinking now, for a woman allegedly residing in a fairytale. They were "the Billion couple" to the world, but at this time, they were simply two individuals attempting to understand what love meant amidst too much money and too many specters.The ringtone cut through the silence.Charles, who was filling wine glasses, looked at his phone. The instant he read the name, his face altered—something constricting in the space betw

The ConfrontationThe evening above Makati was heavy with thunderclouds when Madam Jamaica Billion gave the order for the call to be made.Inside the family study, the air cut with the scent of rain. The beautifully carved desk shone under a dim lamp, and the imposing portraits of the Billion patriarchs looked down at her, stern and vigilant.Her aide placed the laptop on the sheen of the wood. "Ma'am, the connection to Paris is open.""Good." Jamaica's voice was steady, though her hand on the armrest shook once before she controlled it. "Leave me."The door shut. Only the sound of rain remained.As the screen flickered to life, the Paris suite flooded her vision drawn velvet curtains open to the city's glimmer. Fiona sat next to Charles on a couch, both taken aback by the phone."Grandma," Charles said, straightening, his voice respectful but strained. "Is everything..""Spare me, Charles," she interrupted, her gaze icy. "I did not call you for niceties. I need the truth."Fiona seem