All Chapters of The Billionaire's One-Night Baby: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Celeste His father let out a breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sebastian, do you realize what you’re saying? This isn’t just a personal choice—it has consequences.” “I know exactly what I’m saying,” Sebastian cut in, firm and resolute. “And this isn’t some office scandal. It’s my life.” I wanted to shrink into the floor. My chest constricted, caught between shame and a strange, dangerous ache at his words. He spoke them with such finality, such certainty, and for one insane moment, I almost believed we were untouchable. Sebastian’s mother pressed her fingers to her lips, her face pale. “But Sebastian… this is Celeste. She’s your secretary—” She faltered, her eyes flicking to me, then back to him. “When did this even begin?” “Recently,” he said, his tone clipped but steady. “And not lightly. I called off my engagement with Violet because I knew I couldn’t live a lie any longer. Whatever arrangement that match represented, it would have been meaningless when the only pe

CelesteThe apartment door clicked shut behind us, soft as a sigh, and Amara darted inside first, her little shoes tapping against the floor like drumbeats echoing through the quiet space.I lingered by the entrance, leaning lightly against the doorframe as Sebastian stepped in behind me, carrying the bags with an ease that still surprised me. He set them down carefully by the wall. Even in such a simple gesture, there was something steady in the way he moved—grounding, reassuring. Yet beneath the calm, I still felt the tension coiled in my chest, the remnants of everything unsaid.“Daddy!” Amara’s voice rang out, bright and clear, already tugging us both into her orbit. She raced toward her room, her arms full of books that nearly toppled from her small hands. “Read this one! And this one!” She plopped onto her bed, bouncing a little with excitement.Sebastian followed her, kneeling at the edge of the mattress. His large frame looked oddly natural in the tiny world of pink sheets, st

CelesteThe tension from the board meeting lingered in the air long after everyone had filed out. Even as I returned to my desk, the weight of those missing millions pressed like a storm cloud over the entire floor. Emails chimed, phones rang, the steady rhythm of corporate life marching on as though nothing had changed. But it had.Sebastian’s door remained closed for a long time, the blinds drawn across the glass wall. I caught glimpses now and then—the silhouette of him pacing, the sharp lift of his hand through his hair, the way he paused, shoulders taut, as if fighting to hold everything together.I forced myself back into the rhythm of my own tasks—scheduling calls, typing up minutes from the meeting, forwarding documents that needed review. The routine was grounding, familiar, but my thoughts kept slipping back to him.The whispers hadn’t stopped either. Each time I stepped into the hallway, I caught fragments.“…she must be devastated, poor Violet…”“…Mr. Williams hasn’t made a

CelesteThe next morning carried a strange heaviness, like the air before a storm. The glass walls of Williams Corp gleamed in the sunlight as though the building itself wanted to mask the unease crawling inside it. Employees hurried through the lobby in crisp suits, murmurs rippling between them, heads tilting toward every flicker of movement near the elevators.Everyone knew Theodore Williams had arrived.Even before I reached the executive floor, I could feel it: the difference in the air, the sharpness of voices, the clipped professionalism that bordered on fear. Theodore’s name carried more than weight—it carried judgment.I smoothed my blouse and adjusted the strap of my bag as I stepped out of the elevator. Sebastian was waiting just outside the boardroom, his suit darker than usual, tie perfectly in place, his expression unreadable. But the tension in the set of his shoulders told me enough.“You’re late,” he muttered, though his eyes softened the moment they met mine.“Barely

CelesteThe office felt like a war room now. Nicolas’s phone chimed again and again as he fired off orders, every message a little thread pulling a new piece of security into place. Sebastian sat behind his desk, no longer reading the Anderson file. He wasn’t the CEO right now; he was a grandson whose bloodline had just been threatened, and yet his face was a mask—hard, contained, strategic.Nicolas was on his phone, fingers flying. “Theodore’s fleet is already downstairs,” he murmured. “Rolls-Royce Phantom, Maybach, the Range Rover escorts. They’re cleaned, detailed, parked in the executive garage. Drivers reported in half an hour ago. If Violet meant what she said, she knows the exact schedule.”The words made me cold. I had seen the schedule in the morning when I sorted Theodore’s meetings—it was public to staff, nothing secret. Which meant Violet had access. Which meant she could plan.“Check all of them,” Sebastian ordered, voice low and lethal. He wasn’t pacing, but his stillnes