All Chapters of BILLIONAIRE'S PLUS-SIZE OBSESSION : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

AT THE CLUBThe music pulsed through my chest like a second heartbeat.The people dancing, the crowd-the entire environment felt uncomfortable.Some couples were kissing and practically making out right there in public!I wasn't used to this.I sat stiffly on my seat, awkward and tense, trying my best to finish just one shot.Angela, on the other hand, had already downed three and was swaying to the music with a loose smile."I'm gonna be fine!" she shouted over the bass. "Screw him!"Olive laughed and shook her head."You sure will, second cousin."Another round of drinks arrived. I politely declined, explaining I wasn't a good drinker.Angela, however, didn't hesitate. She grabbed another glass and toasted to freedom, heartbreak, and letting go."You know what?" Angela yelled, raising another toast. "Life is too short to cry over a dude. It's 2025-we're not doing that anymore! No more boyfriends, no more relationships!""Yeah..."Olive replied, cheering her on.I just sat there,looki

**LEO’S POV** It was late evening, and most of my workers at the company had left—except for management. I’d planned to work overnight to tackle the excess workload. Just then, a knock sounded at my door as I flagged a suspicious code breach on one of my client’s servers. “Come in.” I didn’t bother looking up—the security monitor had already scanned and recognized the visitor. The door slid open with a faint hiss. My manager, Zack, stepped in slowly, almost hesitantly like he was afraid of something. I kept scanning the code for another second before finally raising my eyes to him. “Zack, is there a problem?” “Good evening, sir,” he said slowly, then added, “I… came to apologize.” Before I could even acknowledge his greeting. I paused and leaned back in my chair, flexing my tired fingers. “Apologize?” I asked, confused. “Yes, sir. About my sister. Monalisa.” I sighed, flicking my hand to minimize the screen. The floating interface shimmered and

I blinked as the acidic white wine stung my eyes, trickling down my cheeks and dripping off my chin onto my blouse.I stood frozen for half a second, processing what had just happened. Monalisa smirked and tood up.She twirled the now-empty wine glass between her fingers. "Oops, look at that," she said, chuckling softly.My hands trembled at my sides, fingers curling into tight fists."You bitch..." "What are you going to do, huh?" she dared me, pouring another glass. "Come on, fatty, show me what your lazy hands can do!" She splashed the second glass in my face. I shut my eyes, trying to stay calm—but I couldn’t. I grabbed the nearest object—a heavy leather-bound cocktail menu—and swung it at her her face. She staggered back, bumping into a waiter carrying a tray of martinis. Glass shattered on the floor and the drinks went flying. The crowd around us erupted. "Damn, girl!" someone yelled. "Are they fighting?" another voice asked. Some stood up from their bar stools to in

I parked across the street opposite a popular flower, cafe and gift shop. “The Bloom Room.” The name was painted in curly gold letters across the glass. My fingers tightened briefly around the steering wheel. This wasn’t something I usually did. I’d never actually walked into a flower shop before—never had a reason to. In fact, this would be my first time buying a gift for a woman. Any woman… I stepped out of the car and crossed the street. As soon as I stepped inside the flower shop, the bell above the door jingled softly. I walked in, passing through rows of colorful blooms. Red roses, soft pastel hydrangeas, peonies in blush pink. My chest tightened with uncertainty. What would Charlotte even like? Something simple? Something flashy? Should I get one flower or a whole damn flower garden? I spotted the counter at the far end of the shop and made my way there. A young woman stood behind it—mid-twenties maybe—with shiny black hair pulled into a high ponytail a

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Fine. You’ve got ten minutes.” “Yes!!” they chorused, practically gliding across the room as they showed me shelves of luxury teddy bears, chocolate assortments, perfumes, and hand-painted cards. The display was overwhelming—satin-lined boxes with roses preserved in glass, jewelry trays with trinkets shaped like hearts and stars, silk robes folded into pink tissue paper, and enough pastel ribbon to wrap a mansion. “Do you think she’d like a rose and peony mix? Or maybe something softer, like ranunculus and eucalyptus?” Tina asked Cherry. I just tagged along, clueless. They kept presenting options: gift boxes with delicate wrapping, silk robes in pale pink and cream, candles that smelled like rain and roses, a small jewelry set with a heart-shaped pendant. There was even a cream-colored teddy bear in a glass case, tied with a satin bow. “This one’s perfect,” Cherry said, holding up a heart-shaped box with gold foil edges. “It’s romantic,