Todos los capítulos de The Billionaire She Rejected.: Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

Riley's POV I stood at the foot of the towering Grays Enterprise building, my eyes trailing upward as the glass facade shimmered in the morning sunlight. Sleek lines, bold architecture, and sheer height, it was nothing short of intimidating. The entrance alone screamed wealth and power, guarded by revolving doors of reflective steel, flanked by tall glass sculptures with sharp, twisting designs. I swallowed my nerves and stepped inside. The lobby was a masterpiece. Marble floors gleamed beneath my feet, tall windows invited in natural light, and an indoor water feature rippled gently beside modern art displays. Everyone moved with a purpose. Everything looked expensive, cold, yet captivating. I tightened my grip on my purse and approached the reception desk. "Good morning, how may I help you?" The woman behind the desk smiled, her tone warm and professional. She wore a navy-blue uniform that hugged her like a designer piece, and her voice held that trained elegance only found

Michael's POV The city skyline stretched endlessly beyond the glass walls of my office, but the numbers in front of me refused to blur. Contracts, Reports,and expansion blueprints. My world in black ink and hard figures. I scrawled a note in the margin of a document on the Milan acquisition. Not good enough. I would crush the deal unless they brought something better to the table. Another folder dropped quietly on my desk. My assistant, keen and silent, knew not to interrupt. "Dubai proposal," she murmured. "Leave it," I said without looking up. Efficiency was the only thing I allowed myself. Distraction was fatal. But somehow, she kept intruding on my thoughts. Riley Jordan. The girl who walked away from me. Who tore up my check like it meant nothing. Who looked me in the eye and told me no. The audacity. I leaned back, steepling my fingers as her image surfaced again, those stubborn eyes, her trembling lips the night I touched her. She was drugged, vulnerable..

Riley's POV By the second day, I realized working in a high-end corporation like Gray Enterprises wasn't just about doing your job, it was about surviving the politics too. The moment I stepped into the office that morning, I felt the shift in the air. The air was thicker, the stares lingered longer. And the whispers? They followed me like perfume. "She is the new girl, right?" "Bet you she is someone's side project." My fingers curled tighter around the mug of coffee in my hand. I did not react. Could not afford to. If I learned anything from my last job, it's that not all enemies wear suits, some smile and pretend to be colleagues. Still, the tension clung to me like a second skin. Later that morning, as I reviewed a second draft of the press brief, the sound of heels tapping crisply down the hall drew my attention. Michael Gray. His presence arrived before he did. Sharp heels, soft murmurs, a pause in conversations as he moved. He strode past the open flo

Riley's POV There is something about silence that warns you louder than any noise. The moment I stepped into the office, I felt it. The stillness, and tension. People weren't just looking anymore. They were assessing, like I was a ticking bomb. I frowned, brushing it off as paranoia. Maybe I was just tired, Or imagining things. But then the pings began. one notification. Two. A ripple of buzzing through the office like an invisible alarm. Cara glanced over from her small partitioned office, wide-eyed, as if caught between speaking up and staying silent. "Riley..." she whispered, leaning closer. "You should probably check your phone." My heart skipped a beat. I reached for it with trembling fingers, trying to steady my breath. A breaking headline glared back at me: "Billionaire Michael Gray Hiding His Mistress in Plain Sight? New Employee Exposed Living in CEO's Private Building." My pulse raced faster than normal. No, no, no. I tapped the article with a shaky hands. A

Riley's POV The day started abruptly, with no soft light through the curtains, only the jarring ring of my alarm. For a second, I forgot where I was, until the memories came rushing in, the headlines and the apartment flooding my mind. I sat up slowly, feeling like the weight of the entire internet still clung to my skin. My eyes ached, and my throat felt raw, but I was still here breathing. A message blinked on my phone. Michael Gray: "Don't go in today. I'll handle everything." I stared at it for a long time contemplating within myself. Every part of me wanted to pull the covers up and pretend the headlines didn’t exist. But something deeper, stubborn and burning, wouldn’t let me. No. I’ve lost enough already, they won’t take this from me too. I dressed slowly, choosing a navy-blue dress that made me feel less like a scandal and more like a woman who still had dignity left. I pulled back my hair and straightened, eyes burning with quiet fury By the time I entered G