Todos os capítulos de The Billionaire's One-Night Baby: Capítulo 151 - Capítulo 160

CelesteThe office felt… different that morning.I wasn’t sure if it was the sunlight spilling through the tall glass windows of the Williams Corp building or the way people’s gazes seemed to follow us the moment we walked in. Either way, something in the air had shifted — like the quiet before a storm of whispers.Sebastian’s hand brushed mine briefly as we stepped out of the elevator. “Ignore the looks,” he murmured, voice low enough for only me to hear. “They’ll get used to it.”I gave him a faint smile, though my chest tightened anyway.“Used to what?” I asked softly. “Us?”His lips twitched. “To you being the future Mrs. Williams.”The words were teasing, but the way he said them — calm, assured, and certain — made my pulse stutter. I still hadn’t gotten over last night. The balcony. The ring that now glimmered faintly under the office lights. His voice when he said he couldn’t wait any longer.I’d cried. Of course I had.And now, walking through the same halls I’d walked countle

CelesteI barely had time to breathe before Sebastian was already moving. The weight of the night pressed against my chest, but he didn’t wait for me to speak. His hands were firm on my shoulders, his eyes sharp and commanding as he took in the scene.“Stay here,” he ordered. His voice didn’t waver, though it carried that underlying steel I’d come to know as his promise of protection. “Do not touch anything else. Do not open anything else. Lock every door. Every window.”“Yes, Seb,” I whispered, my voice trembling. My fingers were still sticky from the box, and I could feel the lingering metallic scent clinging to my skin.Before I could even react, he was on the phone. First Theodore, then Nicholas. I could hear the low murmur of urgent instructions, names, times, locations.“Yes, Grandfather, I want her safe. Do not leave the house. No one leaves. Not even Amara,” he said, his tone clipped but precise. Then he moved on to Tristan. “Alert the staff. Alexis, make sure the decorators a

CelesteMorning light filtered through the curtains in soft streaks, cutting across the room where I lay, wrapped in blankets like fragile armor. My body still ached from the faint, terrifying collapse the night before. My fingers traced the smooth edge of the nightstand, trembling, searching for the sense of safety I had lost.Sebastian was already there, standing silently by the window, arms crossed. His sharp gaze swept over the room like a sentinel, taking in every detail. Even in the early light, I could see the exhaustion etched into his features. The storm outside had passed, but the one inside our walls had barely begun to settle.“Morning,” he said, low, almost a warning. He stepped closer with a glass of water. “Drink.”I obeyed, my hands shaking slightly. “What time is it?”“Almost eight. Theodore reported Amara slept through the night. She’s safe.” His tone was clipped but steady. “We’ve checked every perimeter, every exit. Nobody goes near her or the house without clearan

CelesteWhen I opened my eyes, the first thing I noticed was the heaviness in my body. My head throbbed faintly, the kind of dull ache that sat behind the eyes and refused to leave. My throat felt dry, my limbs weak. Even the soft light slipping through the curtains seemed too bright.I blinked, disoriented. The sheets clung to my skin, warm with fever. The room swayed slightly when I tried to sit up.“Okay… that’s new,” I muttered under my breath, pressing a hand to my temple.The next second, the door creaked open — and in came Sebastian.He was still in his home clothes, hair slightly damp fro89m the shower, sleeves rolled to his elbows. In one hand, he held a tray with a neatly arranged breakfast: toast, scrambled eggs, and a cup of ginger tea that steamed softly in the morning light.“Good morning,” he said, voice calm but laced with quiet concern. “You’re awake.”I tried to smile. “Barely.”He set the tray down on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed. His hand brushed

CelesteMorning light barely reached the corners of the penthouse, and I found myself sitting by the window again, a cup of lukewarm tea in hand. My head still throbbed, the dizziness from yesterday lingering like a dull echo. Last night replayed in fragments: Sebastian’s exhaustion, the faint tension in his jaw as he coordinated the investigation, the way his fingers had curled around the phone as if holding the world together.Even in our small moments, I could feel it — the stress pressing down on him like a weight he refused to acknowledge. The details from the delivery, the courier, the offshore account… nothing lined up. He said it himself: someone was sabotaging from the inside. And I could see it, too. It wasn’t just business; it was personal now.I sipped the tea and swallowed the knot of worry forming in my chest.Sebastian had insisted I stay home today. “No exceptions,” he’d said. And for once, I didn’t protest. In fact, I had no real desire to argue. Part of me was gratef