All Chapters of The Billionaire Bastards and their Innocent Obsession: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Chapter 12 Zariah’s POVThe city looked different when you were hunted.From the backseat of her car, Zariah watched the blur of lights streak past the tinted glass. Manhattan had always felt like hers; its chaos, its greed, its hunger. She had conquered it piece by piece, built her name into its skyline. But tonight, it pressed in on her, suffocating. Every corner, every shadow whispered of eyes watching.The scandal in the newspaper hadn’t died down; it had festered, mutating into rumors that spread faster than truth. Anonymous tips. Secret meetings. Investors pulling out one by one. A carefully orchestrated sabotage.And Damian’s silence.That was what gnawed at her most. He had been there, close enough to read her fears even when she wore her strongest mask. But lately, his eyes had turned into mirrors, reflecting her back at herself, never revealing what he held inside.Her driver slowed as they reached the private garage beneath her penthouse. Zariah exhaled, shoulders aching f

Chapter Fourteen Zariah’s POVThe ballroom was a cage.Crystal chandeliers glittered overhead, polished marble shone beneath her heels, and the air reeked of money, old money, suspicious money, hungry money. Investors crowded the space, their smiles sharp, their laughter hollow. Every handshake carried questions hidden in its grip.Zariah wore her armor, black silk dress, diamond at her throat, a smile carved from ice. She had stood in rooms like this a thousand times before, turning doubt into obedience with a tilt of her chin. But tonight, her empire trembled. Tonight, the room felt like it was watching her bleed.The whispers hadn’t stopped since the headlines. Anonymous sources. Scandal. Betrayal. She felt them circling her like vultures, waiting for the fall.Her assistant leaned close. “Madam, the press is here. They’re expecting a statement.”Zariah’s lips curved, though her pulse thundered beneath the calm. “Then they’ll have one.”She stepped toward the podium at the front o

Chapter sixteen POVs: Zariah & AdrianZariah’s POVThe penthouse was too quiet.Zariah stood at the wide windows, Manhattan glittering beneath her like a jeweled serpent. The city pulsed, alive with its own hunger, but her rooms felt like a mausoleum. Damian’s voice still lingered in her mind, clipped and precise, binding her tighter with every calculated word. His grip was velvet, but it suffocated all the same.She tried to lose herself in work. Contracts glared back from her desk. Her pen rested untouched. Even the glass of wine beside her was still full, the ruby liquid catching light but offering no comfort.Her skin prickled. The kind of restlessness that came when control was slipping, when walls felt too thin and silence too sharp.That’s when she heard it.Not the hum of the city below. Not the faint whirl of the HVAC. But something closer. A shift in the shadows.Her breath stalled.Then she saw him.Adrian.He leaned against the doorframe like sin wrapped in leather and sha

Chapter 18 POVs: Damian & ZariahDamian’s POVMorning came too fast.The city was awake, alive, and indifferent to the ruin that sat across from its skyline.Damian stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office, the same view he’d once shared with Zariah. Now, it felt colder. The light that touched the glass didn’t reach him.The press was already circling — whispers about her company, her board, that headline. His phone buzzed with calls from investors and men who wanted to “advise” him on damage control. None of them mattered.He’d spent the night replaying every second of what he’d seen in her penthouse.Adrian’s hand.Her silence.The way she hadn’t pushed him away.He’d bled for her empire. Built it beside her name. And she’d looked at him like he was an obligation, not the man who could end nations with a word.Now she’d learn what it meant to cross him.He reached for the file waiting on his desk — Ambrose Holdings Confidential. A copy of her board’s internal reports. Da

Chapter 20 Adrian’s POV (The Hunter Becomes the Hunted)The city pulsed beneath him like a living engine.Adrian had always trusted patterns—the way lights blinked in predictable rhythms, the way footsteps echoed differently when someone followed too close. Tonight, nothing matched the rhythm he knew.The photograph lay on the table where he’d dropped it hours ago. It was still damp from the rain that had soaked the courier’s coat. The grainy reflection of his own face in that window stared back, taunting him.Someone had eyes on him.That was unacceptable.He slid the image into a folder, locked it in his desk drawer, and started pacing. The suite was silent except for the faint hum of the city and the tick of his wristwatch. Every sound felt too loud.“Marco,” he said into his earpiece.A click of static. “I’m here.”“Find the woman who delivered the envelope. Every camera from the east side to Park Avenue.”“Already working on it. She’s good—no plates, no trace.”“Then she’s not w