Semua Bab Married To My Arrogant Billionaire Enemy : Bab 1 - Bab 10

BROOKLYN The sound of boiling water was the only thing filling the silence of our tiny apartment. It hissed from the old stove like it was angry too. I stared at the packet of instant noodles in my hand and sighed. Again.“Dinner’s ready in ten,” I called out, forcing cheer into my voice.From the bedroom came a soft “Okay!” followed by a cough. Elliot’s been doing that a lot lately. I told myself it was just a cold, even though deep down, I knew I was lying. Again.I poured the noodles into the pot and stirred like I was on autopilot. Rent was due in five days. My second job hasn't paid me yet, and the electric bill was taped to the fridge like it was mocking me.This wasn’t the life I asked for.At twenty-four, I thought I’d be doing something creative. Maybe teaching. Maybe traveling. Not juggling two minimum-wage jobs, making late-night ramen, and pretending everything was okay for the sake of my eleven-year-old brother.After our parents died three years ago, I didn’t have time

DOMINIC By Friday morning, the city was already awake, buzzing below my office windows like a swarm of overcaffeinated bees. I’d been in the building since 5:45 AM.Meetings. Reports. Another merger I didn’t want, but would still close because efficiency mattered more than desire. I’d barely had time to breathe this week, let alone think.And now, the main event is about to begin.I leaned back in my chair, watching the minutes tick down on my watch.9:40 AM.She’d be here in twenty minutes.Brooklyn Carson.The name was unfamiliar until Mr. Hayes brought her to my attention. A desperate applicant with a solid mind and too many responsibilities. She wasn’t the obvious choice but that was the point. Obvious had never worked for me.Neither had tradition.A sharp knock at the door pulled me out of my thoughts. My junior assistant stepped in with my second espresso of the morning, placing it beside a thick black folder stamped with the Blackwell family crest. I didn’t touch it.“Everyt

BROOKLYNSATURDAY I didn’t sleep.Even after hours of sorting through drawers and deciding what counted as “essential,” my brain wouldn’t shut up.By midnight, my suitcase sat open on the floor, only half full—my mom’s locket tucked into a sock, a framed photo of my parents wedged between two folded shirts. Everything else was practical. Toothbrush. Jeans. A jacket I couldn’t bear to leave behind.No pajamas with holes. No chipped nail polish. His rules echoed in my head like a metronome.This wasn’t just packing—it felt like erasing myself.I barely touched my instant noodles at breakfast. Elliot sat across from me, swinging his legs beneath the table, humming a tune from some cartoon he liked. He was too bright. Too trusting.And I was about to upend his entire world.He looked up at me, milk mustache on his lip. “Is this about that job thing?”I swallowed. “Sort of.”His brow scrunched, just enough to show how smart he really was. “Then why are we packing so much?”“Because,” I sa

BROOKLYNI made sure Elliot had everything he needed for school before the sun even finished rising. His little backpack was packed, his inhaler was triple-checked, and I reminded him again,not to run too much during recess. Mr. Alcott handed him his lunch, the driver waited outside, and off he went in that sleek black car Dominic arranged on day one. It had become a smooth routine already.When he got back, he ran through the door with a wide grin, breathless but glowing.“School was fun! I have a new friend—his name is Jamie and he has a pet snake!”I laughed, ruffling his hair. “Please don’t bring any snakes home.”Later, I told him I’d be going out for a family dinner and to be good for Mr. Alcott while I was away. He gave me a thumbs up, already distracted by a game on his tablet. That was the brief part of my day,the easy part.Now I was in front of the floor-length mirror in my room, struggling.The dress Dominic’s stylist picked out was a royal blue backless satin gown that sh

BROOKLYNThe silence the next morning felt louder than any champagne splash.The East Wing of the mansion was as still as a museum. Not the kind with noisy school kids and clunky audio guides—but the type with velvet ropes and cold marble floors, where even your breath felt like a disturbance. Elliot didn’t go to school because he didn’t want to. Can’t blame the little boy.After last night, I thought… I don’t know what I thought.Maybe that we were inching toward something real. Or at least something less fake.Dominic had given me his jacket when Isabelle drenched me in champagne like she was baptizing me with hate. He stood beside me. Chose me. Backed me up, even in front of his wicked ex.And now? Nothing. Not even a knock. Not even a dry, clipped “good morning.”I stood near the massive window in my room, staring out at the garden maze I had no intention of ever entering, arms crossed over the hoodie I’d thrown on. But Dominic? Literally avoided me.I walked out into the hall, m