Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Billionaire Replaced Me With My Assistant : Kabanata 71 - Kabanata 80

Sophia's POV One month. One month since the meeting that changed everything. One month since Project Phoenix came to life and my nights were no longer just about work. One month since Michael showed up at my door in Chicago, with a suitcase and a hesitant smile, and I decided to take a leap of faith. The late afternoon sun in Chicago danced on the turquoise blue water of the infinity pool at The Aqua club, a place where money bought privacy and a stunning view of the skyline. I was lying on a white fabric lounger next to Emma, who was chattering animatedly while sipping a mocktail. "...and then, my client, an heiress to a beer fortune, insisted that her pet parrot, a macaw named Bismarck, was the key witness in the divorce case! She swore up and down that the bird repeated her husband's conversations with his mistress." Emma paused dramatically, her eyes shining with amusement. "The judge, a serious man in his seventies, had to listen to a recording of Bismarck screaming 'Ki

Sophia's POV My office at Pierce Holdings was quiet, too quiet. The low hum of the air conditioning seemed to amplify the whirlwind of thoughts in my head. The glass walls offered a stunning view of Chicago, but today the city seemed gray, shrouded in a fog of my own guilt. I leaned my forehead against the cool glass, feeling the weight of the last few days on my shoulders.The phone in my hand vibrated, and Emma's smiling photo appeared on the screen. I answered, desperately needing her sanity."Emma.""Soph, are you still thinking about that?" her voice got straight to the point, as always. "Stop. Enough of the self-punishment.""How can I stop, Emma? She fainted, looking at me as if I were a... a traitor." The word came out with difficulty."She fainted because she was in shock. A shock from a reality that her son stubbornly refused to tell them." Emma's voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. "It's not your fault, Sophia. It's Mark's. He should have come clean a long time a

Emma's POV The air in the Cook County District Court was charged with a tension you could cut with a knife. Twelve pairs of eyes stared at me from the jury, and across the room, PetroMax's lawyers looked like they'd stepped out of a catalog of expensive suits and corporate arrogance. But my eyes were fixed on my clients – the Miller family, sitting behind me. Mr. Frank, with his hands calloused from years of work in the workshop, twisting a Caterpillar cap. Mrs. Carol, discreetly dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. And their two teenage children, Jake and Lily, trying to look strong, but with fear etched on their young faces. Their home in a quiet residential neighborhood on the South Side, passed down through three generations, was threatened with demolition because the all-powerful PetroMax had discovered oil reserves underground. They were offering a pittance as "fair compensation," an amount that wouldn't even buy a studio downtown. They wanted them to disappear, quietly. B

Sophia's POV"Who are these people?" My voice came out as a broken whisper, laden with unshed tears that burned my throat. Anger was beginning to boil beneath the shock, a helpless, blind fury. "My friend... my Emma... she was just doing her job! She was just defending those who had no voice!"The words tumbled out in a whirlwind of despair. Michael wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against his chest. I felt his lips on the top of my head, a soft, protective kiss."You have to be strong, love," he whispered, his voice a calming bass next to my ear. "Emma needs your strength now, not your tears. She's strong, remember? Stronger than any of us."He was right. Emma was the backbone of our friendship, the most resilient person I knew. But seeing her like this, reduced to a medical report and the anguish on Patrick's face, was breaking me apart.It was at that moment, as I buried myself in Michael's embrace, that Patrick rose from the bench like a ghost propelled by a spring. A doctor

Sophia's POV Michael's question hung in the air, a thin veil between us. I felt its weight, the genuine concern in his eyes. But the panic that seized me was stronger. Faster. A primal instinct for survival. "Because there's simply nothing to know about my past," I said, my voice coming out firmer than I expected, but with a coldness I couldn't disguise. I moved away from him, sitting on the bed and crossing my arms. "Michael, I respect you a lot. And I'm more grateful than words can express for everything you've done for me. But please... I don't want to talk about it." He reached out his hand, his face marked by a pain I was causing. "But, Soph..." "Please understand," I pleaded, my voice cracking slightly. "It has nothing to do with trusting you or not. It's... it's deeper than that. Maybe another day. But now... now I can only think about Emma. About the information Patrick will bring. It's the only thing that matters." He sighed, and I saw the change in his eyes. The wor