Todos los capítulos de The Billionaire's One-Night Baby: Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

SebastianI’ve faced boardrooms of billionaires, outrun scandals, crushed competitors.But nothing—nothing—compared to the fear I felt watching her collapse in front of me.“Celeste,” I’d whispered, voice breaking through my own shock.Her breathing had slowed after she took the medication—thank God for that—but she was pale, too pale. Her body trembled. Then, without warning, she slumped forward, her weight crashing against my chest.I caught her.Instinct. Muscle memory. Whatever it was, I didn’t think—I just moved.“Call the car,” I snapped at my assistant, barely keeping my voice steady as I cradled her limp form in my arms.Ten minutes later, we were speeding through the city. She was unconscious. My fingers tightened around hers the entire ride. I kept checking—pulse, color, breathing.All stable.But it wasn’t enough.It didn’t make the storm inside me stop.When the hospital doors flew open, I didn’t wait for help. I carried her inside myself, barking orders at the first nurse

CelesteBy the time lunch break rolled around, I still hadn’t fully recovered from this morning’s… incident.I tried to drown myself in reports, emails, anything I could touch just to distract my brain from replaying the image of Sebastian and Violet over and over again. But every time I blinked, I could still see the mess—his unruly hair, the smug smile on Violet’s face. And for reasons I didn’t want to admit, it still made my stomach twist in ways I couldn’t explain.I sighed, glancing at the clock. Just a few more hours.My phone buzzed.“Mandatory board meeting at 3:30 PM. Assistants are required to attend and take notes.” The message was from the corporate group chat. Short. Cold. Typical.I furrowed my brow. Another board meeting? We just had one the other day. But I didn’t have time to ask questions. The moment the clock hit 3:20, I grabbed my tablet and notebook and made my way toward the executive conference room.The board meeting today wasn’t as chaotic as the first.No sl

CelesteAfter everything that happened at the company, I knew Amara needed air—and so did I.Instead of heading straight home, we took a detour to the park, like we always did on days when the world felt too loud. The sun had already begun to dip into gold, softening the harshness of the day. A few children were still playing near the fountain, laughter echoing faintly in the distance.Amara gripped my hand tightly at first, as if afraid I might let go again. But as soon as she saw the familiar slide and swing set, she beamed and tugged away.“Go on,” I told her, kneeling down to fix the ribbon in her hair. “Just stay where I can see you.”She nodded eagerly and dashed off, the tips of her shoes kicking up gravel as she ran.I sat on our usual bench—the one under the acacia tree, where the wind always felt cooler. I watched her laugh, her pigtails bouncing with every step. For a moment, it was like nothing had happened. Like we hadn’t been humiliated. Like the world wasn’t closing in

Sebastian Monday – 7:23 a.m.I was early.Too early, maybe.The corridors of the 36th floor were still half-lit, the silence only broken by the occasional hum of the air-conditioning and the soft footsteps of cleaning staff. I never liked coming in this early—but today, I had a reason.Celeste.I was hoping she’d come in before the rush, like she sometimes did. Hoping I could catch her by the elevators or at her desk, talk to her before the noise of the office swallowed us both. Before Violet could open her mouth again. Before everything became performative.I had waited outside her building all weekend. Saturday. Sunday. Standing there like a damn idiot, clutching an envelope with a revised scholarship offer for Amara. I just… wanted to fix something.Or at least say sorry.But she never showed.Not even a glimpse of her from the window. And I didn’t have the guts to call. Not after everything.I rubbed my eyes and dropped the envelope on my desk, the logo of the Williams Foundation

CelesteI returned to my desk like a ghost—here, but not really. Present, but hollow.Nicolas’s words echoed like a hum I couldn’t silence.“There were pieces missing.”I always thought Sebastian forgot me because he wanted to. Because it was convenient. Because I was forgettable.But now… now I knew the truth.He didn’t choose to forget.Somewhere along the way, life took the choice from him.And I didn’t know if that made it better—or worse.I stared blankly at my monitor, blinking at the same sentence of the same report for what felt like hours. The letters blurred together like fog in my mind. My hands hovered over the keyboard but never moved. A single sentence from Nicolas kept playing on loop in my mind:“He’s drowning in a past he can’t even fully see.”What did that make me, then?A ghost from that same past?A memory just out of reach?My fingers curled into fists on my lap. It made sense now—why he looked at me like he was trying to place something. Why sometimes, his gaze w