Semua Bab The Billionaire's Game : Bab 1 - Bab 9

‎CASSIAN ‎ ‎The lock engaged on the other side of the door. A soft, final sound. I stood there for a moment, listening. There was no sound coming from her, not a sob, not a scream. Just the silence of a contained variable. ‎My phone buzzed. ‎“Report.” ‎“The transfer is complete, Mr. Vale. All outstanding charges against the Thorne name have been satisfied. The hospital administrator has also confirmed the girl’s new treatment protocol. Funding is secured.” ‎“See that it stays that way.” ‎“Of course, sir. And the father?” ‎“Leave him. He’ll surface. He always does.” ‎I ended the call. The silence of the penthouse was a familiar comfort. Now it was shared. I turned and walked back to her door. I didn't knock. I spoke through it. ‎“Open the door, Lysandra.” ‎A beat of silence. Then, the handle turned. She stood there, her face pale white, eyes staring wide. Still trying to look defiant. A cornered animal. ‎“We need to establish the rules.” ‎“You gave me the rules. I'll spend

LYSANDRA ‎The day went by quickly. I traced the same path from the bedroom to the library to the empty living area. It was silent as ever. I found myself staring at the closed terrace door, my hand hovering near the handle. ‎“If you touch it, an alarm will ring." ‎I spun around and there he was, leaning in the doorway, watching me. How long had he been there? ‎“I wasn’t going to—” ‎“I know. The thought didn’t get far enough. Did you find a book?” ‎“No.” ‎“Bored already?” ‎“I’m not here to be entertained. You said you’d tell me about Elara.” ‎He checked his watch. “The procedure has another hour, but she’s stable. No news is good news. For now.” ‎“For now.” I wrapped my arms around myself. “That’s not good enough.” ‎“It will have to be.” He walked further into the room, his presence shrinking the space. “We have a function tonight.” ‎“A function?” ‎“A VGM charity gala. And you’ll be there.” ‎I stared at him. “You’re joking. You lock me in a penthouse and then want to take

‎LYSANDRA ‎"I can't really just be staying in this house for six months and do nothing, right? It's always just me and the workers. They won't even talk to me if i talk to them. I'm always bored, and it's getting quite suffocating." I said, keenly observing him as he sat across the dining table looking at me. ‎"It's part of the terms." He replied, a little softer than i imagined. ‎"Yes i know. You clearly told me I'd be here until our agreed time elapse. But still, i can't just sit around all day and do nothing. I'm not used to that." ‎"You have the TV in the sitting room to keep you company." ‎"It's the same routine everyday! I'll wake up to see you gone, the workers are not even always the same so I can't form a bond with them. You clearly told them not to interact with me, didn't you? What did i do? And you may not even come back home at night, you never told me your plans, never talked to me. It's just like I'm the only human in this building. You don't consider me a 'human',

LYSANDRA‎Another morning dawned in this decorated cage. I woke to the oppressive silence of the penthouse, my hand instinctively reaching across the vast, cold expanse of the bed to find it, as always, empty. My sister is no longer living with me.‎A hollow routine had taken root. I moved through the motions: a shower in the marble cavern of a bathroom, the steam doing little to warm the chill inside me. Then, the daily dilemma—the walk-in closet. It was a monument to excess, bursting with couture gowns, delicate silks, and daring cocktail dresses, all tags still attached. But where were the clothes for living? The worn-in jeans, the soft cotton sweaters? They were absent, a silent reminder that my existence here wasn't about life; it was about presentation.‎I finally settled on a simple black vintage-style silk dress. It felt like armor, but it was the only thing closer to comfortability. Slipping into it, I descended to the dining room.‎The scene was a still life painting: a sing