Lahat ng Kabanata ng Billionaire Boss? Nah, Just A Possessive Husband!: Kabanata 191 - Kabanata 200

My breath hitched.Finally. This is it. He’s here. He’s pulled some impossible string, made one call, and now he’s come to fix this. To get me out.The door buzzed, a harsh, electric sound, and swung open.But it wasn’t Lochlan.It was a woman. In her late forties, maybe, with a kind but weary face, her brown hair pulled into a practical, frizzing ponytail. She wore a slightly rumpled navy trouser suit and carried a battered leather satchel.‘Ms Galloway? My name’s Lora Jenkins. I’m the duty solicitor. I’ve been engaged by Mr Lochlan Hastings to facilitate your release.’The words landed, but they were wrong. The messenger was wrong. The setting was wrong. Where was the man himself? Where was the dramatic, last-minute rescue?‘Where’s Lochlan?’ I asked.‘He isn’t coming.’Three words. That was all it took. The fragile hope I hadn’t even admitted I was clinging to shattered. The cold fear in my stomach ignited, transforming into a white-hot ball of anger.Of course he wasn’t coming. He

Securing the meeting had required a specific combination of pressure, favours, and implied threats, a currency I was fluent in.The result was this: a clandestine, irregular visit in a stark, airless room at Belmarsh, arranged for a time when certain staff were on shift and certain cameras could be persuaded to blink.A corrections officer, his face pale under the harsh lights, led me through a series of clanging gates. His name was Pendle, and anxiety radiated from him like heat.‘You have twenty minutes, Mr Hastings,’ he muttered, not meeting my eye. ‘Not a second more. I’m risking my pension for this, you understand?’‘Your discretion is greatly appreciated,’ I replied. ‘It will be remembered appropriately, and no complications will arise from it.’He gave a tight nod and opened the final door.The room was exactly as one would expect: bare walls the colour of old teeth, a solid metal table bolted to the floor, two chairs. The air smelled of industrial cleaner and a deeper, more per

The call from Kol Donovan came just after dawn, his voice cutting through the muted grey light of the penthouse. ‘Sir. We’ve located Jason Rivers.’I was already awake, standing by the window with a cup of black coffee that did nothing to dispel the fatigue. ‘Where?’‘He’s flown. Took a budget flight from Luton to Naples three days ago. Paid for in cash. And he travelled with a minor listed as his sister.’ Kol’s tone was matter-of-fact, but I could hear the unspoken conclusion. He was running.‘Naples,’ I repeated, the name conjuring images of chaotic streets and opaque loyalties, a decent place to disappear. ‘Keep a team on the ground there. Find out where he’s staying, who he’s contacted. But do not approach him.’‘Understood.’ Kol ended the call.The next call came an hour later, bringing more bad news.‘Regarding the individual at Belmarsh, sir,’ he began. ‘My associates inside made contact. They were unable to deliver the message. The subject is under protection.’‘Protection.’‘A

‘Hyacinth Galloway, you are free to go.’Right up until the moment the iron gates clanged shut behind me, I was in a complete daze.One minute I was force-feeding myself the congealed, grey goo that passed for breakfast, mentally categorising it as ‘probable potato, possibly alien in origin’, and the next, a corrections officer was barking at me to get out.She thrust my own clothes at me and marched me down a series of corridors that all looked exactly the same.Then, just like that, I was standing in the open yard, blinking in the weak daylight like a startled mole.Freedom. It felt less like a triumph and more like I’d been accidentally dropped off at the wrong stop.The daze only lifted when I saw Portia.She launched herself at me, wrapping me in a bear hug so fierce I thought my recently-freed ribs might crack.‘Oi, watch the merchandise,’ I wheezed into her shoulder, which was damp from the drizzling rain.She finally let go, holding me at arm’s length. ‘Look at you. Prison chic

Spending the day working for Soraya was a special kind of agony.It was like being trapped in a beautifully appointed room with a very elegant, very clever spider.She was sharp, I’ll give her that. She picked up on details in reports that would have made my eyes glaze over, and she did it all with this easy, chatty charm that was somehow more intimidating than any outright demand.Every time she smiled at me, I felt a crawl of unease up my spine, like ants were having a rave on my vertebrae.I spent eight hours smiling back, my face aching with the effort, while my brain screamed ‘imposter!’ on a loop.The moment her heels clicked away down the executive floor, I sprinted to Kai’s office.He was at his desk, but the usual organised bustle was gone. He just looked grim, staring at his monitor like it had personally offended him.All the holiday cheer had been well and truly vacuumed out of the place.‘Kai. What the hell is going on?’ I asked, shutting the door behind me.He looked up,