All Chapters of ALMS TO LOVE: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

She took Fiona’s hand. Held it just a second too long. Not a welcome—an assessment.“This is your moment, girl,” she said. “Don’t let it consume you.”Fiona’s spine straightened.“I don’t burn easy,” she replied, voice smooth.Madam Jamaica smiled wider, all teeth.“Good. You’ll need that.”With a wave of her wrist, music spilled out. Waiters rushed forward with champagne. The lights in the ballroom lowered ever so slightly as a spotlight hit the grand piano where the quartet played a sensual waltz.And then the whispering started.Society moved in rings. Around them. Beneath them. Never above."Oh, she does clean up well.""That's the mother, isn't it? The sick kid one?""I thought she'd be… paler. Meeker.""She looks expensive.""She's expensive. You know Charles is footing the bill.""She's not Billion material."It all floated past Fiona.Each word a thorn on silk.But she didn't flinch.Instead, she picked up her champagne, lifted it graciously, and addressed Charles."So that's

Outside the Billion Estate – Midnight BreezeNight had turned cold. Stars overhead twinkled like secrets waiting to be spilled. Black cars inched down the circular driveway, their headlights blinking as the guests started to pour out.Fiona stood by the grand stairs, her velvet gown sticking to her like a shield. Music inside had stopped. The final champagne had been frothed up. The final flashbulb had burned out.And yet, Madam Jamaica glowed.She came to Fiona with that measured quiet that made every step into announcement. Blue dress shushing over the marble, silver in her temples glinting like crowns weathered in storms."Well," she towered over Fiona. "You did."Fiona grinned faintly, eyelashes lining her eyes with contained exhaustion."Barely," she gasped. "But yes.".Jamaica stared at her for a long time, as if she was seeing something deeper than the surface. And then, in a burst of warmth, she leaned forward and grasped both Fiona's hands in hers."Really like you, Fiona," s

Charles waited in the doorway, silent. He hadn't meant to hear—but he did. The soft thrum of Fiona's voice had trickled under the crack in the door. Not loud, not clear, but enough to catch the weight of it. The way she spoke to her daughter, soft and trembling and low. The way her laughter filled the air even when it cracked like cracked glass.She did not know he was there. And maybe that was the reason the words had felt so bare. So sincere.He stepped back out into the hall, running his hair through his fingers. His chest hurt. He was not used to this feeling—this filling, choking tightness in his lungs. It was not lust. It was not even guilt. It was worse.It was odd.Charles Billion's life was constructed on control. Each transaction, each tabloid, each look he took at the world was refined into something calculated. Tonight—Fiona had sailed over all the walls he'd built. Not with seduction. Not with charm. With her silences. With her agony. With that voice saying she loved her

How in the world was she supposed to just up and go plod on back outside and fake a phony engagement with the man when her real flesh-and-blood self had just made an unscheduled guest appearance in his kitchen?"Oh my God, my boobs were literally hanging out next to the butter."She snarled so hard the pillow almost exploded.He's gonna think that I did it on purpose. Some scorching "oops-I'm-naked" trick. Gag.I'm a mom! I teach in cardigans! I recite poetry when I cry! That is not the vibe I was attempting to provide!She stood, sat down again. Stood up again. Then pushed herself to breathe."Alright. Pull yourself together. You are not going to die. You've done tougher. You gave birth without the epidural. You got through the fundraiser with that socialite who believed 'quantum physics' was a shoe store. You. Can. Do. This."She slapped herself mentally and exited the room.In the kitchen.Charles sat calmly sipping coffee, telephone in the hand holding the breakfast, other hand ho

Fiona's heart racing as she came back to the tiny hospital room, her own heart racing in her head like a drum. She scarcely could believe what the doctor had said to her.Liza was home.Her little girl, her little soldier, would be fine. Two weeks from then, they would be together, really together again, far from antiseptic white walls, far from relentless beeping and fretting.She was already able to picture it—Liza all cozy on the living room couch at home, watching cartoons, giggling and asking her nails to be painted. The world had waited so long, it had kept its breath, but now. now it could breathe once more.The physician had only provided her with the release forms, and her smile was shinier than the sun outside a spring morning. "We are going to keep her under observation for the recovery, but the process of recovery is faster than expected. If it keeps going like that, we are talking about complete recovery very soon."Fiona couldn't muster words to tell the thanks bubbling