Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Baker's Billionaire : Kabanata 101 - Kabanata 110

DEMETRIA “Congratulations to the latest couple! Time to throw the bouquet!” The disc jockey shouted into the microphone. “All ladies gather behind the bride!” We were gathered at Palacio de la Música after Anastasia and her husband had exchanged vows in the church. It was now time for celebration. “Go and join them, Wildfire, I need to see you catch the bouquet,” Marion whispered in my ear and sucked my earlobe. My breath hitched, which almost caused me to choke while sipping my champagne. I swatted at his chest, heat rushing up my cheeks. “Marion!” I hissed, but he only grinned, smug and unbothered, as if he already knew the outcome. With a roll of my eyes and a quick sip of courage, I set my glass down and joined the circle of women gathering behind Anastasia. She stood a few feet ahead of us, her train carefully draped over her arm, her bouquet clutched in her hands like it was pure gold. The music shifted, the crowd clapping and cheering as she turned her back. “All right, la

DEMETRIA My eyes open because my damn phone would not stop ringing. I mumbled, feeling annoyed because it's the weekend, and my workers know not to call me this time. I rolled over and blindly fumbled my hands around, feeling for my phone. When I didn't feel it, I grunted, opened my eyes, and then saw the time on my wall clock, 5:46 am. “The hell?” I uttered as I eased up. When I did, I spotted my phone on my dresser. Thankfully, it stopped ringing, so I placed my hands on my back, elongated it, and stretched. “Mmm,” I moaned as my stiff body started to warm. My phone started ringing back. While shaking my head, I raised my covers, sat up, and snatched the phone from my dresser. Marion. “Marion,” I answered reluctantly. “Wildfire…” His voice was hoarse, strained, so unlike him. My heart skipped a beat. I instantly sat upright, back pressing hard against the headboard as fear slithered through me. “Marion? Baby? What’s going on?” My stomach clenched as I gripped the phone tight

DEMETRIA “Wildfire?” Marion quizzed, staring at me. “Mar—Marion.” I fumbled because I was still in a state of shock. He really named his newest establishment after my nickname. “Come here.” He commanded as he opened his legs wide. I shuffled my feet to where he sat and stood between his open legs. “You love me, right?” “Of course, Marion, I love you, but it's just too much.” “I always tell you to get used to it. You’re mine.” He declared. “And I want some desserts from your bakery served on the opening nights. It’s left with a week, make it happen.” He said with finality in his voice and kissed my neck. I smiled, tracing a finger along his jaw. “Bossy, aren’t you?” I teased softly. “Fine. I’ll make sure everything’s perfect. The best from my bakery, just for you.” I paused, eyes glinting with mischief. “But you better not take all the credit when everyone’s raving about my desserts.” “It’s all yours, but when it's time for the opening, just look pretty on my arms and support m

DEMETRIA “Come on, Anas! Help me out here. You’re my fashionista. You’ve forgotten?” I asked, pouting and giving her my best puppy eyes expression on our FaceTime. Anastasia’s laughter rang through the phone. “Girl! Don’t give me those puppy eyes. Allow me to enjoy my honeymoon. Marion didn’t send his assistant to shop for you?” “I declined,” I said, smiling as I ran my fingers over a sleek black gown on the rack. “I want to do this on my own and make it a surprise too until he sees me tomorrow night.” “Oooh, someone’s planning to blow her man’s mind,” she teased. I chuckled softly. “Maybe. It’s his big night, Anas. The least I can do is look good standing next to him.” “You always look good next to him, Deme. But okay,” she said with a playful sigh. “Find that dress that’ll make Mr. Handsome Devil forget his own name.” I laughed. “That’s the plan, bestie.” I skimmed through the racks, my fingers brushing against soft fabrics and shimmering details. I was at Maxfield Lo

DEMETRIA “What a birthday surprise,” Marion smirked as he held the Polaroid pictures I left as a trail from the stairs to his bedroom, while staring at me lying on his bed. I came in early because he had to handle something last-minute at the party, allowing me to set up everything with Anastasia’s idea. “Happy birthday, Marion,” I said softly, my voice trembling just a little. He leaned against the doorframe, jaw tense, eyes running over me in a slow, deliberate drag. I was in a burgundy–colored lingerie set; delicate, barely-there straps, lace that shimmered faintly under the golden light. My hair spilled down my shoulders, and the soft glow kissed my skin in all the right places. I was surrounded by Polaroid pictures of myself, my version of a photoshoot, and I had red ropes laying over me. I’d never done anything like this before. The Polaroids scattered across the bed were my version of a private gallery, a gift of confidence, of love, of courage. But the truth was, this n