Semua Bab Her Body, His Signature (A CEO's X Deal): Bab 81 - Bab 90

Ocean's POV The coffee from the café still lingered bitter on my tongue, but it wasn’t caffeine making my chest feel tight. It was the weight of words I hadn’t asked and the answers I might never be ready for. That voice in my head—quiet but insistent—kept whispering, Do you really know him? Sebastian had arranged everything after Paul’s surgery. The best doctors, the safest environment, even private security on the hospital floors. On the surface, it looked like devotion, like obsession painted as protection. But when you’ve lived long enough with uncertainty, you start to see shadows even in the brightest rooms. And lately, the shadows around Sebastian seemed endless. I tried to focus on Paul. His recovery was slow but steady, and watching him smile despite the tubes and the weakness should have been enough to soothe me. But instead, I found myself drifting—watching Sebastian from the corner of my eye, measuring the silence that stretched between us. He wasn’t cruel, not anymo

Sebastian’s POVThe sky over Manila bled faint streaks of amber, but Sebastian’s penthouse felt like a tomb. He stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, a forgotten tumbler of whiskey in his hand, watching droplets slide down the glass like falling seconds. His reflection stared back—tired, unshaven, and hollowed out in a way that even money and power couldn’t mask. Sleep had become a stranger; every time he closed his eyes, he saw Ocean’s face as she walked away.The memory of her voice—shaky but resolute—cut through him like broken glass. “Sebastian, I can’t do this anymore.”She hadn’t screamed. That almost made it worse. The quiet finality in her tone gutted him more than rage ever could.His phone sat on the marble countertop, screen dark but heavy with the weight of unspoken words. For the hundredth time, he hovered his thumb over her name in his contacts. One tap, and he could hear her again. One tap, and maybe s

Ocean’s POV A Cage of Shadows The world smelled like damp ropes and gasoline. When I opened my eyes, the ceiling above me was metal—cold and dented, with rust creeping along the seams. My wrists ached from the zip-ties biting into my skin, and the hum of a diesel engine vibrated beneath me. It wasn’t a hospital room. It wasn’t Sebastian’s penthouse. It was… nowhere safe. The memory of being dragged from the hospital grounds slammed back into me: the hand over my mouth, the rain, the van doors slamming shut. The way my brother’s name—Paul—was the last thing I’d thought before the world went black. I swallowed hard, my throat dry. Stay calm, Ocean. Panic will get you killed. A muffled laugh echoed from the front of the vehicle—male voices, casual like they weren’t holding someone’s life hostage. “Boss is gonna love this. Velez’s gonna crack.” Velez. Sebastian. My chest tightened. They’d taken me to hurt him. My mind replayed the rival CEO’s warning—those whispered words in the co

Julian’s POV “I'm now the monster you made.” I whispered in the wind as the face of Sebastian lingers on my memory. The storm had drowned Manila overnight, but the sunrise was all gold and lies—like the city wanted to pretend nothing ugly ever happened. I stood on the balcony of my penthouse, the wind clawing at my suit jacket, and watched the skyline bleed light over glass towers. Down there, people were already cramming themselves into jeeps and trains, chasing paychecks that barely bought their dignity. They thought the world ran on hard work. It didn’t. It ran on leverage. And leverage was something I’d perfected long before Sebastian Velez ever learned to tie a Windsor knot. My phone buzzed on the marble table—one of my men reporting. “The bullet message was delivered. He saw it.” “Good.” My voice was calm, but inside, adrenaline burned. “And the safe house?” “Empty. But he’ll know we can reach him anytime.” A bitter laugh escaped me. Sebastian—the golden boy, the self-made

(Sebastian POV)The City Never Sleeps, But My Heart Is Barely BreathingThe dashboard clock glowed 2:43 a.m., but Sebastian couldn’t tell if the night had just begun or if it had already bled into eternity. Manila’s streets were slick with leftover rain, neon reflections puddling on asphalt like broken glass. Every stoplight felt like a taunt, every horn blast a reminder that time kept moving—even while Isla might not be safe.He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, knuckles whitening. His phone buzzed again: another update from security—still no sighting.> Security Chief (text): “Checked both ports. Nothing. CCTV loop shows no van past the toll after 1:10.”Sebastian: She has to be somewhere. Keep looking. Double back.He shoved the phone into the console, chest heaving. The memory of Isla’s trembling fingers on his jaw during their last argument haunted him: the way her voice cracked when she whispered, “You don’t get to decide my life.” Now someone else had decided it for her