All Chapters of The Billionaire She Rejected.: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Michael’s POVI stood in my apartment, shirt unbuttoned halfway, hands braced on the edge of the marble kitchen island, but my mind was nowhere near the numbers on the open file in front of me.I had touched her, again, and this time... I didn’t stop.I should’ve walked away when her eyes met mine, bold and unblinking.I should’ve turned back the second her dress slipped and my breath caught.I told myself I wouldn’t cross the line.But then I saw her, still wrapped in that sinful gown, with her shoulders bare and face clean from any makeup.And I lost control.And now?Now, she was one floor below, probably standing barefoot and shaken, wrapped in a sheet that still smelled like us.I clenched my jaw and straightened, trying to blink away the memory of her mouth, how it parted beneath mine like it had been waiting.How her fingers had held me like she was trying to memorize my shape.The lines we drew were clear, a fake relationship, clean, public, and strictly professional.This was

Riley’s POVThe elevator doors slid open, and I stepped out, a little quicker than usual. My heart beat louder than my heels, thudding softly against the quiet floor. I looked down the corridor, I wasn’t sure what I expected, but part of me hoped I’d see... something, and there it was.A medium-sized box.Sitting neatly in front of my door, Tied with a red ribbon that probably cost more than my rent.I crouched down slowly, eyeing it like it might bite. The ribbon was thick and satiny under my fingers as I pulled it loose.I carried the box inside and shut the door behind me, heart thumping like I’d stolen something.The apartment felt too quiet. The kind of silence that holds its breath.I placed the box on the kitchen counter and carefully lifted the lid.What I saw made me freeze.A gownDeep emerald green silk spilled out like water, shimmering in the light with a soft glint of delicate beadwork. There were swirls of embroidery along the bodice, threaded with hints of silver an

Riley's POVI sat beside Michael, quietly taking in the room while he caught up with his grandmother, Elizabeth, as I learned. His parents, Ferdinand and Eleanor, sat across from us.He leaned in when she spoke, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. His fingers tapped once against the polished wood of the table when she said something that clearly amused him. There was a lightness in him that felt rare, unguarded.And I couldn’t help but notice the contrast.He had greeted his father with polite stiffness, the kind of tension that filled the space between people who used to be close but hadn’t been for a long time. His mother got a nod at best, barely a glance. But his grandmother? That was different. His expression softened around her. And Zara? He’d ruffled her hair with the kind of ease only years of affection could breed.I recognized that disconnect too easily. Because I carried it too, with my own mother. The way you look at someone who should’ve loved you better.My

Riley's POVNo one moved. Sienna’s words lingered in the room, sharp and heavy.Michael reached for his glass slowly, just enough to make the moment feel deliberate. And he answered without looking at her.“That chapter ended a long time ago, Sienna.”His tone was leveled, but final.She smiled again, slow and polished. She lifted her wine and took a sip before speaking.“Some chapters are worth re-reading.”There was a pin drop silence in the room.It was Grandma who finally moved, picking up her napkin and folding it neatly beside her plate.Grandma’s voice broke through the silence like a soft bell.“Would anyone like dessert? The chef made lemon tarts.”Zara, still twirling her spoon between her fingers, muttered just loud enough.“Only if someone promises not to call it ‘low-guilt’ again. I want all the sugar and none of the shame.”A few chuckles bubbled up around the table, just enough to ease the edge Sienna’s words had left behind.The tension cracked just enough for people t

Riley's POV The sunlight poured in through the blinds, casting soft golden lines across my ceiling. I blinked into the warmth, eyes still foggy, but my lips were already curved in the smallest smile.I felt... light.Not just rested, but light in the chest. As though something had been unknotted overnight.“I rolled onto my side, eyes tracing the ceiling, the memory of last night flashing across my mind, Michael’s hand on mine, the way he looked at me.”I stilled for a moment then let out a breath that felt closer to laughter. I wiggled my toes under the blanket, stretched my arms overhead, and hummed softly as I swung my feet to the floor.My morning moved with ease, the shower felt warmer, the tea tasted sweeter. I didn’t overthink what to wear, just threw on a fitted pale blue blouse, navy trousers, a gold clasp around my wrist, everything clean, quiet, polished.As I added small hoops to my ears, I caught myself in the mirror and tilted my head. Was I glowing?A laugh slipped ou