The Baker's Billionaire のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 121 - チャプター 130

MARION Before Demetria’s arrival… “Here, the information you needed about Mark Sullivan,” Marcel said, setting a thick manila folder on my desk as soon as he entered. “Appreciate it, brother,” I said, leaning back in my chair, stretching slightly as I regarded him with a grin. My office at Whitfield Global still smelled faintly of new leather and oak; the renovation had only wrapped up last week. Marcel’s gaze swept over the space, a rare smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Gotta say, Marion, this new setup is impressive. You’ve outdone yourself.” I chuckled. “Had to. Can’t have the CEO of Whitfield Global working out of a cave.” Then, tilting my head, I shot him a teasing look. “Speaking of caves, when are you finally moving out of that bat lair of yours? You’re supposed to be running a company, not hiding in your house with your dozen monitors and half-eaten pizza boxes. Everything in your office has probably collected dust by now.” He snickered, shoving his hands

MARION The sound of leather hitting leather echoed off the walls like gunfire. Sweat beaded at my temple and rolled down my jaw as I let the next punch fly. “Left’s dragging,” Mikhail called out from behind the mitts. “There’s no shit dragging.” “It’s not landing either.” I cracked Mikhail with a combo that made him stumble back with a short laugh. “There we go.” “I know what I’m doing.” “Where’s your head, bro?” I grabbed a towel and leaned on the ropes, asking, “Where the fuck did that come from?” I demanded, prepared for the looming conversation. Mikhail grabbed his water, took a sip, then sat on the bench, calm and composed. “I’m on whatever you’re on. You know that, but I can’t do my job if I don’t know where your head’s at. If something happens to you, I have to answer to your family. So where’s your head, Marion?” “Demetria broke up with me,” I replied truthfully. I had come to Hermit to spar with Mikhail. It’s been a while since I saw him. He didn’t attend

MARION The door clicked shut behind me, but her scent, that sweet mix of strawberry and something that was just her, clung to me like a damn ghost. I exhaled hard, dragging a hand through my hair as I made my way out of her bakery. Every step felt heavier than the last, the echo of her voice replaying in my head. “No woman should be able to breathe the same air as my man.” She meant every word, and that’s what gutted me. Demetria wasn’t being dramatic. She was being her. Fierce. Proud. The kind of woman who didn’t take scraps of love. She demanded the whole damn thing. I respected the hell out of that. But right now, it was eating me alive. “I fucked up,” I muttered under my breath. Not by cheating. I’d rather die before touching another woman. But by letting my guard down. By letting Paula get close enough to ruin the one thing that ever made sense. She needed time, fine. She could have it. But I wasn’t going anywhere. Because Demetria Hernandez wasn’t just some chapte

MARION “How the fuck do I keep running back into your arms?” Demetria asked, eyes lifted to the sky like she was asking God Himself for answers. I couldn’t help but chuckle. “It’s written in the stars, Wildfire. God clearly knows what He’s doing.” “Clearly not,” she shot back, but I caught the way her gaze flickered over my face, just for a second, before she looked away. Demetria shifted in her seat, crossing her legs as the city lights of Los Angeles spilled through the window, brushing over her skin like liquid gold. “So,” she started, her tone laced with curiosity, “where exactly are we going, Mr. Whitfield?” I glanced at her briefly before returning my focus to the road, the low purr of the Range Rover SV Autobiography filling the space between us. “There’s this rooftop spot, Merois. Exclusive, quiet, here in West Hollywood. You’ll like it. View’s insane.” She hummed softly, pretending not to be impressed, though I caught the faint curve of her lips. “You didn’t even

MARION “You don’t give a fuck about my woman’s beauty sleep?” My voice was calm, deadly calm, slicing through the early morning silence as I spoke on the phone. Demetria stirred beside me, eyes fluttering open, her body still draped in the sheets. She blinked in confusion; the sound of my voice might have pulled her awake. Cyprian laughed. “Bro! That is not what I said.” “That’s what the fuck it sounded like.” My reply was low and final. Demetria turned, sleep still clinging to her lashes, watching me as I leaned against the headboard. I muted the call and gave her a gentle kiss on her lips. “Good morning, babe, how are you?” I grinned, taking her in. Even with her hair tousled like she has been thoroughly fucked, she still looked effortlessly beautiful. Mission accomplished. “I’m fine, and you?” She smiled, her voice still soft with sleep. She shifted and laid her head on my lap as her eyes lingered on me. “Feeling on top of the world. Not complaining.” I shrugged, an