Todos los capítulos de The Billionaire's Regret: Capítulo 111 - Capítulo 120

Sebastian didn’t speak right away.That should have relieved me. Normal people needed a few seconds to process the fact that my life had just been turned into free content. But Sebastian Romano’s silence wasn’t the silence of a normal man in shock.His eyes moved over the screen. Once. Twice. Reading the headline, the photo, the caption. Then his thumb slid over the screenshot, enlarging the part with the gate.“The account?” he asked.I folded my arms across my chest. “You don’t want to try starting with, ‘Jasmine, I’m sorry your house has been turned into digital chew toy material by people with the moral fiber of a pistachio’?”His gaze lifted to my face. No smile. No comeback. Just that dark stare that somehow still managed to look calm and deeply unsafe for public health.I sighed. “MonacoMurmurs.”One small nod. As if I had just given him a restaurant address, not the name of a gossip account that was probably preparing my life as a degustation menu.Sebastian picked up his phon

I froze.My spine seemed to decide it was interior decor, standing there beautifully and uselessly in the kitchen doorway.But I love you more tho.The sentence left my daughter’s mouth like a breadcrumb falling to the floor. Small. Accidental. Ordinary. Except what hit my chest felt like a chandelier crashing down from a ballroom ceiling and landing directly on the most expensive part of my sanity.Sebastian went still too.Not for long. Just long enough to make the air in the kitchen feel heavier.Then Sebastian chuckled. The sound was low, coming from his chest, short, like a tiny crack in dark glass.“What?” Poppy lifted her head from his chest, her bangs falling into one eye. “Are you laughing because I’m cute?”“Because you’re so sure.”“I am sure.” She patted Sebastian’s cheek with one small hand still slightly sticky with yogurt. “I have opinion.”“You have many opinions.”“That’s because I’m smart.”“Clearly.”“And beautiful.”“Impossible to argue.”“And sick.”“Getting bette

Poppy went down at nine-thirty.The child fell asleep after refusing the blanket three times, asking twice for Bunny to be “positioned with more respect,” accusing her medicine once of having an aftertaste like “sad apple,” and finally giving up mid-sentence during a speech about why patients should have legal rights to extra cartoons.She slept on her side in my room, not on the sofa bed. Her weight was warm and solid in my arms, her cheek pressed to my shoulder, her long hair tickling my neck. Every few steps, she mumbled something unclear. Something about honey. Something about Daddy Shark. Something about Bunny being “emotionally exhausted.”Salma helped pull back the blanket, set up the humidifier, place warm water on the little table, then retreated with the expression of a woman who knew this house was storing too many bombs, but had chosen to save herself through tea and kitchen work.Now Poppy was asleep.Finally.I stood beside the bed a few seconds longer than necessary. Br

“Mommy!”I shot to my feet. My hand nearly knocked into the mug on the table, and the half-eaten pirozhki rolled on the plate. My body was already moving before my brain had time to spell panic.“Daddy!”Then the voice rose again, wetter now, louder.Sebastian stood too.The sofa chair scraped slightly against the floor.Rain against the glass, my own breathing, Sebastian’s footsteps behind me, all of it seemed to be pulled closer to my ears.I hurried into the main room.Poppy was sitting in the middle of the big sofa.Not where I had left her earlier, of course. Because even in sleep, that child had real estate ambition. The blanket had slipped down to her waist. Bunny had been thrown to the other side of the pillow, one of its ears pressed to Poppy’s cheek. Her long hair was a wreck, her bangs covering part of her eyes, her cheeks flushed, and tears were already running down both round little cheeks.My chest dropped.“Sweetheart.” I reached the sofa first. “Hey, hey. Mommy’s here.

Poppy went back to her castle, placing the pink-haired Barbie on the highest balcony. “Anastasia Sparkle will watch from a safe place. Bunny is the supervisor. Daddy is dino security. Mommy is...”She stopped and looked at me.I raised an eyebrow. “I’m what?”“The queen who gets mad when people are wrong.”Sebastian made a sound. A very small sound.I looked at him. “Do you have a comment?”“No.”“Good.”Poppy smiled, satisfied. “Perfect family system.”I nearly dropped my stylus.I looked back at Daniella’s report, but the letters blurred. Not because of tears. Don’t be dramatic. I was not that sad yet. It was just that the human brain sometimes refused to function when the heart was being dragged across a fluffy rug by a child with bangs.My phone rang.FaceTime.I looked at the screen.Adrian.His name appeared with a small photo of him smiling on a rooftop, his brown hair blown by the wind, his eyes warm, his hand around my shoulder. A photo that used to feel like proof my life co