Semua Bab Getting back at my ex with his billionaire stepbrother : Bab 21 - Bab 30

Zara’s breath hitched. His words struck a chord, a painful truth she hadn’t dared to acknowledge. She had felt dim and hollowed out ever since the breakup. The vibrant, confident Zara Lane, the one who lit up runways and magazine covers, felt like a distant memory now.“We have to get that spark back, Zara,” he said, his voice firm, but still infused with a deep concern. “That’s a crucial step. For everything.”Zara looked away, a wave of self-pity threatening to overwhelm her. “But I can always get my spark back after the revenge,” she mumbled, her voice small. “After they’ve paid. After my name is cleared.” She believed it. She truly did. Her happiness, her peace, her very essence, felt totally linked to their downfall.“That’s the problem,” Leo said, leaning in. “You want revenge so badly you’re becoming a ghost of yourself.”Leo reached across the table, his hand covering hers, a warm, firm presence. His touch was electric, sending a jolt through her. She looked at him, surprised

A week later, Zara stood in front of her mirror with a silk robe draped over her shoulders and her natural curls falling around her cheekbones, she finally saw it.Her.Not the broken girl sobbing into her pillow over a stupid boy. The haunted shadows beneath her eyes had faded, replaced by a subtle vibrancy. Her skin, once dull and dry from stress and neglect, now had a healthy glow. The constant, weary slump in her shoulders had lessened, replaced by a more confident posture.She hadn't just followed Leo's "Step Two" instructions; she had embraced them with a newfound strength. Every morning began with the oddly satisfying ritual of mixing the nourishing green drink, its earthy taste becoming less foreign with each passing day. The vitamins, meticulously organized into daily sachets, were swallowed without complaint. And the skincare routine, a luxurious ritual of cleansing, toning, and moisturizing, had become a meditative practice, a quiet reclaiming of self. She hadn’t touched al

Fred walked into Leo’s expansive home office as if he owned the very air he breathed, a crinkling bag of chips in one hand and a mischievous glint in his eyes. “So,” he began, dropping into the plush leather chair opposite Leo’s imposing desk with an exaggerated sigh of contentment, “how’s the mission on how a faceless billionaire heart save his first love going?” He punctuated the question with a wink, a chip disappearing into his mouth with a crunch.Leo didn't even flinch, his gaze remaining fixed on the lines of code scrolling across his triple-monitor setup. But a subtle tension coiled in his shoulders. Fred, oblivious to Leo’s mood, grinned wider.“You know,” Fred continued, clearly relishing his own narrative, “it’s quite a romance based novel lone . The reclusive,rich tech titan who just happens to be her ex-childhood crush swooping in to help her dismantle his evil stepbrother slash her abusive ex fiancé. I mean, come on, Leo. It’s giving full-on, prime-time soap opera energ

The morning sun, usually a gentle visitor, seemed to pulse with an almost frantic energy through Zara’s bedroom window. Leo said to meet again the next morning that he just wanted to see her face the night before She stood before her full-length mirror, a battlefield of discarded clothing surrounding her. Her hands hovered between a soft, flowing sundress and a pair of sleek, tailored trousers. It wasn't just about choosing an outfit; it was about curating a feeling, an unspoken message. Excitement buzzed through her veins, thin and effervescent, laced with the familiar thrum of nerves. She finally settled on a pristine white fitted top that hugged her curves just right, high-waisted dark-wash jeans that elongated her legs, and a soft beige trench coat that draped elegantly, adding an air of effortless sophistication. Her fingers trembled slightly as she applied minimal makeup just enough to highlight her eyes, to make them sparkle. She let her hair fall in soft, natural curls, and t

Zara glided into the familiar Vanelle Café booth, a pair of oversized designer sunglasses perched artfully on her head. An almost serene smile playing on her face. Leo was already there, sipping from his espresso, looking effortlessly polished in a way that defied the early hour. He exuded an aura of quiet power, his dark suit jacket draped over the back of his chair, revealing the crisp white of his shirt sleeves.“You’re five minutes late,” he said as she slid into the booth.“Fashionably,” she replied, removing her sunglasses. “Don’t act like you weren’t checking your reflection in the spoon the whole time.”He laughed. “Guilty.”He finally lifted his gaze, a slow smile spreading across his lips, the kind that crinkled the corners of his eyes and made him appear almost boyish. Leo gestured to the empty cup beside him. “Your drink’s on its way. Always anticipating your needs, Zara.” His tone was light, yet there was an underlying current of something deeper, something that made her