บททั้งหมดของ BURNING THE LINES BETWEEN US : บทที่ 21 - บทที่ 30

Collins stood outside his father's study, his ear pressed against the heavy oak door like a teenager eavesdropping on his parents. The irony wasn't lost on him,thirty-two years old, heir to a corporate empire, reduced to lurking in hallways.But he had to know what his father wanted with Jerome."... Position would be executive level," Akihito's voice filtered through the wood, muffled but audible. "Direct report to me."Collins's breath caught in his throat."I'm flattered," Jerome's voice responded, careful and measured. "But I already have responsibilities at Linèa.""Your mother and I have discussed this. The merger will happen regardless. The question is whether you want to shape it from the inside or watch it happen to you."Collins pressed closer to the door, his heart hammering against his ribs. Executive level. Direct report. The words echoed in his mind like gunshots."What exactly are you offering?" Jerome asked."Vice President of International Expansion. Full autonomy ove

By noon, Collins had already sabotaged three of Jerome's deliveries.The furniture arrangement Jerome had requested? Collins convinced the movers it was incorrect, had them rearrange everything, then tipped them generously to forget Jerome had ever given different instructions.The high-speed internet installation? Collins informed the technician that the east wing was scheduled for electrical work and couldn't be accessed today. The technician rescheduled for next week.The organic meal delivery service? Collins intercepted the delivery at the gate, thanked them profusely, and redirected everything to the staff kitchen.It was petty. It was childish. It was deeply satisfying.Collins was in his study, reviewing acquisition reports, when his door flew open without warning. Jerome stood in the doorway, still in those infuriatingly perfect jeans, his expression thunderous."Did you redirect my furniture delivery?Collins didn't look up from his laptop. "I have no idea what you're talkin

Miranda's announcement came via group text at 8 AM: "Family dinner tonight. Potential investors. Everyone MUST attend. Formal attire."Collins stared at his phone with growing dread. Business dinners with his father were orchestrated performances, every word calculated, every gesture measured, every moment an opportunity to impress or disappoint.Adding Jerome to the equation would be disastrous.He found his father in the breakfast room, reading the financial section with his usual laser focus. "Do I really need to attend tonight?"Akihito didn't look up. "The Matsuda Group is considering a significant investment. Your presence is required.""Jerome will be there.""Of course. He's family now."“Not yet,’ Collins wanted to scream. “Not for six more weeks.”But he knew that tone. The discussion was over.Collins spent the day preparing,reviewing Matsuda Group's portfolio, memorizing key figures, and anticipating questions. By 6 PM, he was dressed in his most expensive Tom Ford suit, h

Collins didn't remember the rest of the conversation with his father. He nodded in appropriate places, agreed to be more careful, and accepted the lecture about responsibility and appearances.But his mind was elsewhere, replaying the photograph, the confrontation, the look on Jerome's face when Miranda suggested he leave.By the time Collins escaped to his room, movers were already in the east wing, packing Jerome's belongings back into boxes. The efficiency was brutal,evidence that someone had planned for this possibility, had kept the boxes nearby just in case.Collins watched from his study window as Jerome's life was dismantled piece by piece. The espresso machine. The books. The furniture that had been rearranged twice in one day.He should have felt relieved. Victorious, even. This was what he'd wanted, wasn't it? His territory back. His life is uncomplicated by Jerome's presence.Instead, he felt hollow.His phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number: “This is just the beginn

The café near Shibuya Station was one of those trendy places that served fifteen-dollar lattes and had Instagram-worthy lighting. Collins sat at a corner table with a clear view of the entrance, a laptop open in front of him as camouflage, a wireless earbud hidden beneath his hair.Jerome arrived at 1:55 PM, dressed in business casual dark jeans, a grey cashmere sweater, leather jacket. He looked nothing like the tired, vulnerable version from last night. This was Jerome in armor, ready for battle.Their eyes met briefly as Jerome entered. Collins saw the nervous tension Jerome was hiding behind his professional mask.You've got this, Collins thought, wishing telepathy were real.Yuki Matsuda arrived precisely at 2 PM, wearing a cream-colored dress that probably cost more than most people's monthly rent. She kissed Jerome's cheek in greeting,too familiar, too possessive and Collins felt his jaw clench."Thank you for meeting me," Yuki said, her voice carrying clearly through the liste