Lahat ng Kabanata ng In Love With The Hot Billionaire.: Kabanata 91 - Kabanata 100

The Weight of What Wasn't SaidAdrien's POVThe elevator doors began to close, and I should have turned away.I should have headed back to my office, reviewed the stack of surgical consults waiting on my desk. I should have returned to the controlled and predictable world where I knew exactly who I was and what I was doing.But I didn't move.I stood there and watched her through that narrowing gap, watched those wide doe eyes fixed on mine with an intensity that made something tighten in my chest.She looked so small and fragile in that elevator. The sweater swallowed her frame, the jeans hung loose on hips that should have been fuller, and the exhaustion was written in every line of her posture.But her eyes. God, those eyes held mine like she was trying to memorize me. Like this moment mattered somehow.The doors closed and she was gone.And I released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding."Dr. Duval?" A nurse appeared at my elbow with a chart. "The post-op patient in 304 is as

CHAPTER TWO: WHAT LUCAS AGREES TO LUCAS'S POVDeclan has been talking for three minutes and I already know where this is going.I know because I know Declan, and I know that face he makes when he thinks he's found something clever and he's building to reveal the way bad directors build to a twist, letting it breathe a little too long, enjoying himself too much. I let him enjoy himself. I reach for the bottle and top up my glass and wait.We're six tonight. The private room at the back of Nero's, the one you have to know someone to book, dark wood and low lighting and a door that closes properly. Felix is across from me. Kwame and the two Australians Rhys, who I like, and Brett, who I tolerate are down the other end. We've been here since nine. It's past midnight now and jackets are off and ties are loose and we're all in the particular state of a long good evening where everything is slightly funnier than it would be sober."You know Seraphina Noire?" Declan says."Should I?""BBC dr

FREYA'S POV "Right there, yes, just like that."I froze in the doorway.The woman's voice was breathy and high pitched. She was on my bed. Her dark hair was spread across my pillow like she owned it. The red dress I did not recognize was pooled on the floor next to heels that probably cost more than my rent. Her lipstick was smeared across her mouth and down her neck.Kelvin was on top of her.His hands were in her hair. His mouth was on her throat. The sheets I had washed three days ago were tangled around their legs.He looked up.Our eyes met.He did not stop. Did not scramble away. Did not even look surprised. He just stared at me for a long second before slowly pulling back and sitting up on the edge of the bed."Freya." His voice was flat. Calm. Like I had just walked in on him watching television instead of screwing another woman in our bed.The woman turned her head to look at me. She did not cover herself. Did not grab for clothes. She just propped herself up on one elbow an

Chapter Ninety-Five Adrien's POV When the man approached her I was already moving. I registered him before he had fully committed to the approach, read the intention in the angle of his body and the direction of his attention, and I was on the path before I had consciously decided to be. The anger that moved through me in those few seconds was clean and specific and not proportionate to the situation in any professional sense. I reached her and I tucked the strand of hair behind her ear and I looked at the man with the gray eyes and said nothing that required saying because the situation had already been communicated. I had handed her a bouquet of her favorite flowers and I had no idea why I did that. He apologized and left. I had told her to be careful because it was the appropriate thing to say and because it was a fraction of what I wanted to say and because the rest of it had no business existing on a public garden path. Then I walked away. I walked away with the delibera

Chapter Ninety-SevenHe was breathing. I could feel that, the movement of his chest against my back, and the breathing was not steady. It had the specific ragged quality of something that had passed through the body too fast to be processed yet, the aftermath of movement that had been pure reflex and was now catching up with the rest of him.He did not let go.The grip was iron, both arms now, and I was pressed fully against him and neither of us was moving and the lake continued its mild indifferent glittering and somewhere behind us Noé's butterfly pursuit went briefly silent.Adrien turned me.His hands moved from my waist to my shoulders and he turned me to face him with a controlled force that was not rough and was not gentle and was entirely focused, and I looked up at his face and found something there that I had not seen before in quite this configuration. Not the careful cold. Not the managed distance. Something underneath all of that, raw and specific, the fury of someone wh