All Chapters of The Billionaire Who Bought Me The Moon: Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

The dining room was a sea of white linen, polished silver, and faces I only knew from the business section of the newspaper. The air was thick with the scent of roasted lamb and expensive wine. As I walked in, the low hum of conversation didn't stop this time, but the eyes followed me. I could feel the weight of their scrutiny, a collective assessment of whether I was an asset or a liability to the Hale brand.Jason stood as I approached the table. He pulled out the chair to his right, his fingers grazing the small of my back as I sat down. It was a grounding touch, a silent reminder that he was there, but it didn't stop the coldness radiating from the woman sitting directly across from me."You look much more presentable, Samantha," Eleanor Hale said. She didn't look up from her plate as she delicately sliced a piece of meat. "Though I suspect the smell of the deep fryer is a difficult thing to truly wash away in one go.""I did my best, Mrs. Hale," I replied. I kept my voice level.

Every one of the board members sat frozen, their forks suspended in mid-air, their expensive suits suddenly looking like costumes in the face of the raw, jagged energy Samantha had brought into the room.Jason didn’t move. He stood at the head of the table, his face a mask of pale stone, his eyes locked onto the crumpled envelope she had slammed down. He looked like a man watching his carefully constructed world catch fire, unable to decide whether to grab a bucket or let it burn.“Samantha,” he said again, his voice a low, warning rasp. “Enough. Not here.”“Why not here?” she snapped, her voice ringing off the high, vaulted ceiling. She felt the heat rising in her neck, a familiar burn she hadn't felt since the days of arguing over unpaid bills in their cramped university apartment. “Is the truth too loud for this room, Jason? Does it ruin the taste of the wine to know your secretary is the woman who ripped my heart out six years ago?”“Control yourself, Samantha,” a voice cut throug

I woke up before the sun was fully over the horizon, the gray light of dawn filtering through the heavy velvet curtains. For a split second, I forgot. I reached out to the empty space beside me, my hand brushing the cold silk sheets. Then, the memory of the night before rushed back—the shattered glass, Michaela’s smirk, the red wine on the marble, and the words that had changed the trajectory of my life.Pregnant.The nausea didn't wait for me to process it. It hit like a physical punch to the gut. I scrambled out of bed, my feet hitting the plush carpet as I bolted for the bathroom. I barely made it to the toilet before my stomach revolted.It was violent and exhausting. When I finally slumped back against the cold tile wall, I felt hollowed out. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and stared at the gold-plated fixtures. Everything in this house was designed to be beautiful, to be perfect, but all I could feel was the acid in my throat and the weight of the secret growing insid

The progress bar was a cruel, slow-moving joke. 68%. 69%.The door handle rattled again, more violently this time. I could imagine Franklin out there, his brow furrowed in that rare moment of uncertainty. He was a man who followed orders, and Jason’s orders were currently clashing with my defiance."Miss Torres, I really must insist," Franklin’s voice was muffled but stern. "Mr. Hale is becoming quite agitated.""Then let him be agitated!" I yelled back, my eyes never leaving the monitor. "I’m a scientist, Franklin, not a switchboard operator. I’ll call him when the sequence is stable!"Adrian leaned over, his voice a frantic whisper. "Samantha, if he sees what you’re doing—if he sees you’re rerouting the decryption keys—he’ll have the legal team sue us into the stone age. This is corporate espionage against your own fiancé.""He started the war when he bought my parents' land without telling me," I hissed, my fingers flying over the keys to bypass the secondary firewall. "He started

I sat on the edge of the sprawling king-sized bed, my fingers tracing the intricate patterns of the silk duvet. Everything in this room was designed to soothe, to pamper, to dull the senses. But all I could feel was the phantom itch of the lab coat I no longer wore and the cold, hard lump of the restricted phone in my lap.Jason thought he knew me. He thought he’d mapped out every corner of my mind when he bought my debt and paid for my mother’s care. He thought that by putting me in this room and giving me a device with three buttons, he’d successfully lobotomized the part of me that knew how to fight.He was wrong.I picked up the phone. It was a sleek, custom-built device, likely running a stripped-down, proprietary OS designed by Hale Corp’s security division. To anyone else, it was a lifeline. To me, it was a challenge.I leaned back against the headboard, closing my eyes for a second to steady the wave of nausea that threatened to spill over again. Think, Samantha. You’ve spent