All Chapters of The Billionaire She Rejected.: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Riley's POVThe hum of the office wrapped around me. I was halfway through a vendor reply when the clock caught my eye, almost noon. And I still had half a cup of coffee beside my monitor, slightly cooled but drinkable. I took a sip, tapped my pen against the edge of the tablet, and reviewed my notes from the earlier meeting.The compliments still echoed faintly in my ears, Mr. Chambers, Brighton, even that older shareholder I barely knew. The memory pulled a small smile to my lips, before I even realized.I reached for a sticky note, scribbled a quick reminder, then paused as my work phone vibrated beside the keyboard.1 New NotificationPrivate Message - Personal LineFrom: Grandma ElizabethI blinked, as my thumb hovered over the screen before I tapped it open.“Hey, darling. Just checking in, how’s my favorite girl holding up? This old woman could use some company, you know. Drop by whenever you’re free, I will have something warm on the stove and a hug waiting. – Grandma Elizabe

Riley’s POVI could barely remember how I got home.I only knew I was standing inside, the door shut quietly behind me, and the silence felt like it belonged to someone else. The lights were off, but I didn't bother to turn them on.I just stood there, motionless in the center of my apartment, surrounded by all the calm, beautiful things I had carefully chosen to make me feel safe. Now, they felt like props on a stage I didn’t belong to.My legs carried me forward without instruction. I reached the middle of the room and stopped. My hands hung at my sides, as my chest rose, fell, then rose again, shakier.The moment fractured and I sank to my knees.My palms hit the rug, then my forehead. The breath rushed out of me in a sound I didn’t recognize. And then I sobbed.The sobbing came like a flood I couldn’t stop. Quiet but unrelenting, my face pressed into my knees as the tears soaked through my pants, my body curling tighter with every breath that caught in my throat.I tried to breath

Michael’s POV Michael stayed frozen in the same position since the call ended, his phone still in hand. His mind kept circling what Viktor had told him about Riley, wondering how she was still this fierce and strong after going through such hell. Viktor had only mentioned the kidnapping part, not the full story, saying he would bring the file himself. He wouldn't risk the wrong person getting it. Michael exhaled and sat down, pressing his hands to his face, the silence of the suite pressing in. Luckily, Viktor was in the same city and would be here any moment. He glanced at the food cart the hotel staff had rolled in earlier, but his appetite was gone. He only wanted to see Viktor and get the full truth about what happened to Riley. Viktor’s voice kept echoing in his head, each word chosen to hit a precise target. He set the phone down without looking at it and headed for the balcony, only to hear his phone ringing again. He turned back, walked to the table, and saw Viktor’s

Riley POV The morning light filtered through the thin curtains, soft and pale against the walls of the small coastal inn. Riley stirred first, blinking slowly as the sound of waves reached her from somewhere beyond the window. The air smelled faintly of salt, sharper and cleaner than the city’s heavy mix of exhaust and asphalt. Beside her, Aria shifted under the blanket. “You awake?” she murmured, her voice still husky with sleep. “Yeah,” Riley said, her tone light. “You?” “Barely,” Aria replied with a small smile. “But better than yesterday.” They sat up almost at the same time, the blanket falling into a messy pile between them. Riley reached for the glass of water on the nightstand, while Aria stretched, her arms reaching toward the ceiling. “You good?” Aria asked. “Better,” Riley answered honestly. “You?” “Same.” Aria glanced toward the small window. “Kind of hungry though. Wonder what they serve around here.” They spent a few moments tossing around ideas — pancakes, som

Riley’s POVAria’s elbow presses gently against my arm, a quiet nudge forward. “Go on,” she murmurs, like we’re standing at the edge of a pool and she thinks all I need is a little push.But my feet don't agree, they feel rooted to the floor like it might swallow me if I wait too long.Michael’s eyes lift then, finding mine across the room. There’s no flash of surprise, or flicker of anything that would give away what he’s thinking. Just steady recognition like he knew I would come, and this was inevitable.The man sitting with him glances over as well. Calm, professional. His suit is crisp but not flashy, the kind of thing worn by someone who wants to be taken seriously without drawing attention. His face tugs at my memory, but the thread slips away before I can pull it loose.Michael stands, pushing his chair back with a slow scrape of wood on tile. “Riley,” he says, voice low but clear, as though testing how my name feels in his mouth after all this time.I swallow, my pulse thuddi