All Chapters of Under His Billionaire Roof: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

The date was set. May 15th. Five weeks away. Saturday afternoon. Garden ceremony at two o'clock.Leighton stared at the confirmation email. Made it real. Tangible. They were getting married. Actually married. In five weeks."We need witnesses," Noah said. Looking at the venue requirements. "Two. Besides the four guests.""Sarah and one of Marcus's friends?""Works for me."They added it to the list. Growing list of small details. Officiant. Flowers. Photographer. Music. Simple things. Easy things. Nothing overwhelming."Dress shopping," Leighton said. "I need a dress.""Want company?""No. This I do alone. With Chloe.""Fair."Saturday, Leighton and Chloe went to a small bridal boutique. Not the huge stores with hundreds of options. Somewhere intimate. Quiet."I want simple," Leighton told the consultant. "White. Elegant. Nothing poufy or traditional.""I have the perfect thing."She brought out three dresses. All simple. Clean lines. Beautiful.The second one fit like it was made for

The restaurant was five minutes from the venue. Small. Italian. Private room already set up. Round table. White linens. Candles glowing. Champagne chilling.Noah held the door. Let Leighton enter first. His wife. The word felt new. Strange. Perfect.Everyone filed in. Diana. Leighton's mom. Chloe and Marcus. Sarah and Marcus's friend. Eight people total. Intimate. Perfect.They sat. Noah and Leighton at the head. Everyone else around them. Close. Connected. Family.The waiter poured champagne. Filled every glass. Waited for the toast.Marcus stood. Glass raised. "I'm supposed to give a speech. I practiced. Wrote notes. But now I'm just going to wing it.""Classic Marcus," Noah said."Shut up. I'm toasting you." Marcus grinned. "Noah. My best friend. My brother. The most stubborn person I know.""Accurate.""For years, I watched you run. From connection. From love. From anything real. You were good at it. Built an empire. Made millions. But you were alone." Marcus's voice softened. "Th

Leighton's alarm went off at six. She reached for it. Knocked over a water glass. Heard it crash. Perfect start.Jetlag had them both wrecked. Three days back from Italy and sleep was still wrong. Too early. Too late. Never right.Noah groaned beside her. "Is it morning?""Unfortunately.""Can we go back to Italy?""I wish."She dragged herself to the shower. Hot water helped. Barely. Coffee helped more. She drank two cups standing at the counter. Staring at nothing.Her phone buzzed. Work email. Then another. Then five more. All marked urgent. All demanding immediate attention.Two weeks away meant two weeks of backlog. Projects stalled. Decisions delayed. Clients waiting. Everything piled up like dirty laundry.She opened her laptop. Scrolled through emails. Two hundred unread. Her stomach dropped.Noah appeared. Also holding coffee. Also looking exhausted."How many emails?" he asked."Two hundred.""I have three fifty.""You win.""Do I though?"They ate breakfast in silence. Both

"This was a terrible idea," Leighton said. Staring at the recipe. Chicken marsala. Looked simple online. Now looked impossible."We can do this," Noah said. Chopping mushrooms. Badly. Uneven pieces. Some huge. Some tiny."Those need to be the same size.""They're fine.""They're not. Look at them."He looked. Frowned. "Okay. They're bad. What do I do?""Start over."He groaned. Started re-chopping. Leighton seasoned the chicken. Too much salt. She tasted. Grimaced. Tried to wipe some off.Marcus and Chloe were coming in two hours. Their first dinner party as a married couple. She wanted it perfect. It was already a disaster.The kitchen was chaos. Flour on the counter. Dishes piling in the sink. Wine bottle opened too early. Half empty already."Did you drink that?" Leighton asked."Cooking wine. For the sauce.""That's drinking wine. The cooking wine is in the pantry.""Oh."She grabbed the right bottle. Started the sauce. Added mushrooms. Wine. Chicken stock. It bubbled. Smelled goo

The SEC building felt cold. Too bright. Fluorescent lights humming overhead. Noah's shirt stuck to his back. David sat beside him. Briefcase on his lap. Face neutral."Let me do the talking," David whispered.Noah nodded. Couldn't speak. His throat was too tight.Special Agent Torres entered. Mid-fifties. Gray suit. Tired eyes. A woman followed. Younger. Laptop under her arm."Mr. Knight. Thanks for coming in. I'm Agent Torres. This is Agent Kim."They sat across the table. Torres opened a folder. Thick. Full of papers."We're investigating the Hastings Medical acquisition. Five years ago. Specifically, unusual trading activity prior to the announcement."Noah's pulse hammered in his ears."My client is happy to cooperate," David said. "But we'd like to know what specific allegations you're investigating.""We have evidence suggesting Mr. Hastings provided material non-public information to Jennifer Drake. Ms. Drake made substantial profits from trades executed three days before the a