All Chapters of The Billionaire's Ultimatum: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

LAURAI blinked slowly as I took in the view through the floor-to-ceiling window of the living room.It was early in the morning, the sun was just beginning to stretch across the sky, pale gold bleeding into blues. I wrapped my robe tighter around me and held onto the coffee I had made for myself.This was the life, wasn’t it?The views were breathtaking, the furniture was expensive, there was a chef to cook you anything you wanted. What’s there not to love?Everything apparently.I took a sip of my coffee and felt the bitterness match my mood. Because despite all this luxury, despite the million-dollar view and the designer everything, I felt like a total prisoner.I couldn’t leave without security trailing behind me. I had nowhere to go anyway. My apartment was still a crime scene, yellow tape probably still stretched across the doorway, and most of my belongings were destroyed or contaminated. Everything I’d built for myself these past years, gone.I set my coffee down on the mar

LAURAThe sun was setting and I was still cuddled up in the lounge chair, watching a bad rom-com I’d seen online. This was my new haven since Xavier had rendered me jobless. I had nothing else to do. I was given a brand new phone because apparently “his team” were taking longer than expected. It was one of the newest models, flashy, efficient but empty. I still had my contacts and pictures but it somewhat felt different.I thought I’d like it at first, lounging around and not necessarily having to do anything. But I had to admit that it was rather lonely.Xavier was out most of the time on his endless meetings. Juniper and Lucas didn’t exactly live here and though me and Juniper had made a little progress, we weren’t necessarily friends.It felt like I was going crazy and I missed my patients even more. I missed having something to do.Xavier had also taken over the whole deal with my biological parents into his hands. Talk about rendering me into a house plant.But still, it was f

XAVIERI followed Laura back up to the penthouse, watching her shoulders tremble slightly with leftover tears she was trying to hide. The elevator ride was silent except for her occasional sniffles, and I found myself painfully aware of how uncomfortable I was with the whole situation.Emotions weren’t my area of expertise. Give me a psychological negotiation or a territorial dispute and I’d know exactly what to do. But a crying woman? That was foreign to me.When we got inside, Laura went straight to the couch and curled herself into a ball, pulling the duvet over her body. She looked so small and vulnerable in a way that made something twist in my chest.I should’ve gone to my office or my bedroom, just anywhere that wasn’t here dealing with feelings I didn’t know how to process.Instead, I found myself sitting down on the opposite end of the couch.Laura glanced at me, surprise flickering across her tear-stained face. “You don’t have to—”“But I want to,”my voice came out more str

LAURA I barely had time to process Xavier’s words before he was moving, his phone already pressed to his ear as he grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the bedroom. “We have five minutes,” he said, his voice sharp and controlled. “Pack only essentials. Clothes, important documents, basically anything you can’t replace.” “Xavier, wait—” I tried to keep up with him, my mind still reeling from everything he’d just told me. “How long have you known that the Volkov Bratva killed my parents? And how come they’re striking now of all times? After all this while, what does this—” “Later.” He released me and moved to the closet, pulling out a duffel bag. How didn’t I notice that before? “Right now we need to move.” I stood there frozen, watching him pack with efficient, practiced movements. This wasn’t panic. This was protocol. “Laura, now.” His tone left no room for argument. I forced myself to move, grabbing clothes from drawers without really looking at them, stuffing them into the bag

XAVIER Laura just stood there, her father’s letter clutched in her trembling hands, streams of tears running down her face in a way that made something crumble inside me.“It’s too much,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “This is all too much. I can’t—I don’t know what to do with any of this.”She looked so fragile standing there surrounded by documents that could either save her or destroy her—evidence of a legacy she never asked for written in her dead father’s handwriting.“I just wanted to help people,” she continued, her breath coming in short gasps. “I just wanted to be a nurse, to take care of the young and the elderly and—” she stuttered, tears coming down in tyrants now.“—And make a difference in small ways. And now I’m supposed to what? Claim a criminal empire or destroy organizations that have existed for how long? I don’t know how to do any of this. I don’t want this kind of decision to be in my hands. Please!”I felt something twist in my gut, watching her fall apart.