Lahat ng Kabanata ng Her Body, His Signature (A CEO's X Deal): Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

The envelope was thicker than usual.I stood at the edge of the worn kitchen counter, fingers brushing over the paper as though touching it too quickly might burn me. Our old ceiling fan groaned above my head, pushing around humid air that smelled faintly of coffee and saltwater. Outside, the ocean roared—mocking me with its endless rhythm, reminding me that everything else in my life came with an expiration date.I already knew what the letter would say. The foreclosure notices had been arriving for weeks now, each one more urgent, each one written in the cold language of banks that don’t care who you are, only what you owe.But this one… this one carried a weight I could feel in my bones.I broke the seal. The paper crackled as I unfolded it.FINAL NOTICE.The words screamed at me in bold, merciless print. They gave me fourteen days. Fourteen days until the house my father built with his own hands, the only home my brother had ever known, would no longer belong to us.My hands tight

The city looked different from Sebastian Velez’s car.Not smaller, exactly. Just… owned.Every building we passed, every light that flickered against the night, felt like it answered to him.He sat beside me in the back seat, his long frame relaxed but coiled, like a predator conserving energy until the moment to strike. He didn’t speak for most of the ride. Didn’t need to. His silence was a kind of pressure, one that pushed me deeper into my seat, made me hyperaware of every breath I took.When the driver finally turned into the underground parking of a glass-and-steel tower that seemed to scrape the stars, Sebastian looked at me for the first time since we’d left the hotel.“You’ll find,” he said, “that I don’t keep things small. Not homes, not business… not expectations.”The words sank into my skin like heat.The elevator ride to the penthouse was silent except for the soft hum of the machinery. But I could feel him behind me — close enough that the warmth of his body brushed my b

I should have known Sebastian wouldn’t just keep me hidden away in his penthouse.Men like him didn’t collect pretty things to lock them in closets. They put them on display — as a statement, a warning, a claim.The black dress from the morning had been replaced with a new one by afternoon. This one was deeper, darker, cut to the bone, the neckline dipping low enough that I couldn’t take a deep breath without imagining a dozen camera flashes catching it.“Where are we going?” I asked as he fastened the thin gold chain at the back of my neck. His hands were steady. Mine weren’t.“A charity gala,” he said simply. “Half the city’s elite will be there. And every one of them will know exactly who you belong to by the end of the night.”We arrived in his signature black car, the driver silent, the tinted glass separating us from the city’s noise. Sebastian sat beside me, one arm resting casually along the back of the seat, but I could feel the coiled energy under his calm — like a predator

( Ocean 's POV) I woke before the sun. The city was still dark outside the windows, faint ribbons of dawn brushing the horizon. Sebastian s side of the bed was empty. For a moment, I thought he’d gone again without a word, but then I heard the faint clink of glass from the other room. He was at the dining table, sleeves rolled up, one hand braced on the back of a chair while the other held a lowball glass. The amber in it caught the dim light like molten gold. “It’s six a.m.,” I said softly. “Couldn’t sleep.” His eyes didn’t quite meet mine. I hesitated. Normally, when Sebastian was in one of his unreadable moods, it was safer not to push. But after last night, after the strange heat and tension between us, I didn’t want to go back to pretending. “Is it business?” I asked. “It’s always business.” “Sebastian…” He finally looked at me. His gaze lingered just a fraction too long, like he was weighing whether to tell me something or shut me out completely. Then the front door b

( Sebastian’s POV) The car rolled through the city streets, and all I could think about was how much I hated these fucking events. They weren’t just meaningless affairs; they were battlefields. Every glance, every word spoken was a strategic move — a test, a threat, an invitation. And tonight, it was no different. Isla sat beside me, her profile illuminated by the streetlights. She looked like she belonged in this world, despite everything. Her beauty was striking enough to make even the most hardened men pause, but I didn’t want anyone looking at her — not the way I knew they would tonight. Not without the right reason. The gathering was being held at Carter Jennings' penthouse. I could already feel the weight of his gaze in my mind, his smirk, the way he’d look at Ocean like she was another prize on display. I hated it, but I needed to be there. This wasn’t just about control; it was about ensuring everyone knew she was mine. The moment we entered, the temperature of the room