Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Billionaire’s Desire: Owned By Him : Kabanata 31 - Kabanata 40

The school’s theatre hall buzzed with murmurs and the roar of polite applause. Parents leaned forward on the rows of folding chairs before the well lit stage, craning in anticipation to see the next child on stage. The program had been running for more than an hour —piano, harp, a few tentative vocal solos, even a pair of ballet dancers and a rap performance. Backstage, Johnny gripped his violin, feeling disoriented. He was next.“Don’t forget to breathe,” said Mrs. Cole, his British music teacher, “You’ve practiced beautifully, Johnny. You’ll be brilliant.”Johnny managed a nod but didn’t reply. His eyes scanned the crowd through a crack in the curtain. No trace of his father in the audience and this dampened him, sapped him of enthusiasm.Across town, Nat was nowhere near the event hall. He was in the conference room, concluding on the a deal with PrimeCore, reaching a final resolution. “We've been able to secure the old airport concession. The proposal was approved by the mayor

She took a quick nap, but it wasn’t just a nap—it became a portal to a blissful memory. She had a dream.“I’m a princess. I’m a princess,” Zara said in her childish voice and gusto, wearing a pink ball gown and a crown tiara perched crookedly on her head.“Oh! My little lovely girl,” came her father, in his truck driver uniform, who had just come home from work, dust still clinging to his boots. He smelled of sweat, metal, and home. He crouched down to her small stature, smiling. They shared the same olive skin and the same sharp-faced features.“How are you today?” he asked gently.Zara beamed. “Fine. I’m a princess,” she said again, showing off her crooked, unfinished teeth.“Yes, you are.” He brushed her hair aside and kissed her forehead. “And you know what else you are?”She looked at him expectantly. “My queen,” he said.She was jolted from her dreamy rendezvous by the sound of loud music coming from the next room—Isla’s room.She got up, disoriented, and went toward her door,

Dinner with Dame Vivienne Wolfe, Nat’s mom, was more like an interview of a prospective suitor. She had longed for a for a suitable partner for far too long for her only precious son—one who fit into their echelon and social class. Her thoughts were always attuned toward marriage, imagining the wedding and her grandchildren, rather than viewing any of his girlfriends as just girlfriends; they were potential wives.Nat had always been an explorative son. He had dated women from across the globe. Once, an Ethiopian girl—slender, tall, with a surprising curve of breasts, her face startlingly symmetrical like art. She had been nubile, a model who once placed in the top two at the annual Miss Africa pageant. Then, a Japanese woman, striking with sharp features, her hair a wavy blonde burnish, who held Nat as if he were her baby. She had appeared fifteen years older than him. His mother had feared a scandal.His house, large and foreboding, was more than appealing to Zara. They passed the w

The Gulfstream 500 was one of his toys. It was meticulously crafted and lavishly adorned. The woodwork was rich—certainly mahogany, coated in a glossy polish. The cabin was warm and wide, with plush in cream-colored leather seats. Nat had his aviators on, jeans and a leather jacket paired with a face cap. Beside him sat, of course, Zara, his billionaire wife. She had initially balked at the trip, especially at the sudden announcement but he had persistently persuaded her, insisting she was needed for his personal assistance. “Personal assistance indeed,” she teased.Besides, the conference itself, The Titans Forum—a gathering of business magnates, titans and trailblazers in their fields was a good place for her to make contacts. Zara dropped her handbag by the side table and adjusted her sunglasses. She had a simple short gown, and a wide vintage cap.Now they were choosing from a variety of displayed wines. “We’d have the Pinot Noir,” Nat told Julia, his private jet chef. She wa

“Teasing with your ex, and right in my face too,” Zara screamed.“What the hell?” he looked at her like she was a madwoman, struggling to make sense of her enraged fury.“Danielle, or whatever, you calm her,” he said.“Hey!” he pointed his fingers at her, his eyes wide open.“You need to calm down,” he added, walking gently toward her at a slow, catlike pace.“Don’t come near—or else—” she held a knife from the counter toward him.“Stop. You’re being dramatic. Danielle is an ex. She’s in the past.”Zara shrank. She dropped the knife and went toward the bed.“I hate her,” she said. “She’s a bitch. She speaks with such subtle mockery.”Nat watched her. Fear glared on his face. He went to her and took her hand.“I get that. It’s okay to feel insecure. But throwing a glass? That’s insane.”Zara got up angrily.“You’re the one that’s insane!” She went to the bathroom and locked herself in for about an hour. When she emerged, she had water on her face and her nightgown on.She sank onto he