All Chapters of Married To The Arrogant Billionaire Heir: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Ryan’s POV. The heavy oak door clicked shut behind me, the sound final and insulting, like the latch of a cage engaging. I didn't stop moving. I couldn't. If I stopped, I would have turned around, kicked that door open, and thrown a chair through the glass window overlooking the city that Sebastian claimed as his own. The rage was a physical thing, a living parasite coiling tight in my gut, hot and acidic. I marched down the hallway, forcing my spine straight, forcing my chin up. Chloe hurried to keep pace, her heels clicking a frantic rhythm against the marble, but I didn't look at her. I couldn't bear to see the flash of uncertainty I knew was plastered across her face. I could feel the eyes of the staff on me. They were pretending to work, heads bowed over keyboards, phones pressed to ears, but I knew they were watching. They were judging. They had seen us walk into the lion’s den, and now they were watching us walk out, banished to the lower tier of the executive floor. "Ryan,

Sebastian’s POV. Ryan’s voice lingered in my headspace like the smell of stale smoke. I walked into my office, the image of him cornering her at the elevator replaying on a loop. I didn't like the way she had looked—cornered, small. But more than that, I didn't like the visceral, violent urge that had spiked in my blood when I saw him leaning over her. Isabella stepped in behind me. I could hear her regulating her breathing, her hands clasped tightly in front of her to hide the tremor. "Sit," I commanded. The word came out harsher than intended. I rounded my desk, needing the barrier of mahogany between us. "What happened in that hallway... it will not happen again. If he approaches you—if he so much as breathes in your direction—you tell me. Day or night. Am I clear?" She swallowed hard, nodding. "I understand. I will let you know." "I mean it," I said, my voice dropping to a low growl. "Do not try to be brave. Do not try to handle a snake like Ryan on your own." "I won’t," sh

Sebastian’s POV. The building at this hour was a cathedral of quietness. The silence was absolute, save for the mechanical rush of the air vents and the distant, rhythmic clicking of Isabella's mouse. It was long past midnight, but the merger proposal needed to be finalized by dawn, and Isabella had refused to leave. I couldn't bring myself to send her home alone, not with the determined focus that had kept her chained to the desk all day. So I stayed, telling myself my input would expedite the process. I watched her from across the massive desk. Her concentration wasn’t the hurried kind, but a deep, steady burrowing into the work. I had mistaken her caution for clumsiness before. Tonight, I saw it for what it was—precision. She checked every column twice, tracing the data with a silent finger, occasionally mouthing a low number to herself, grounding the calculation with a soft whisper. I was correcting a projected margin when her arm stretched across the desk, her finger landing o

Sebastian’s POV. I got home earlier than usual. It felt strange to step through the door when the sky still held a bit of light. The meeting with the investors had dragged through the night before and continued this morning. By the time everything was signed, sealed and put away, I realised I had not stepped foot into the company all day. I was tired, but it was the kind of tiredness that carried a small sense of relief. The proposal was completed. The pressure eased a little. All through the ride back, my mind kept drifting to the quiet dinner we shared the night before. It had not been anything extravagant. It was the silence, the calm, and the way she looked less guarded for once. I did not know why the thought of it kept coming back. I only knew that it did. I walked into the dining room with that same thought lingering somewhere in my chest. The first thing I noticed was the table. Only one place was set. I stopped in the doorway, staring at it like it was a strange phenome

Sebastian’s POV. The anger didn't come as a flash of heat. It settled in my chest like ice, heavy and immovable, the moment the call ended. I stared at the phone on my desk, the ghost of my father’s voice still echoing in the silent office. "It is an opportunity for him to learn, Sebastian. Or you could stay back and we send Ryan to Chicago. The deal needs a Knight." His tone had carried that familiar, oily sweetness—the velvet sheath hiding the dagger. My father never suggested, he maneuvered. He didn't ask, he cornered. He knew exactly what he was doing. He was placing a pawn on the board that forced me to expose my queen. He wanted Ryan to grow. He wanted a threat to my leadership. He wanted to remind me that the leash was still in his hand. I pressed the heels of my hands against my temples, a headache blooming behind my eyes. "He is doing this deliberately." I knew the game. This wasn't about the company’s future, it was about breaking my control. He hadn't forgiven me for