All Chapters of Billionaire Romance: Mine Tonight: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The flash of cameras was relentless, each burst of light another knife to Seraphine Ashton’s chest. She stood on the red carpet of the Midnight Dreams premiere, her emerald gown clinging to her frame like a second skin, her smile fixed in place even as her world crumbled around her. This was supposed to be her triumph the film she’d poured her soul into for eight months, the role that would finally prove she was more than just a pretty face in Hollywood’s shallow waters. Instead, it had become her public execution. “Seraphine! Over here!” A photographer shouted, and she turned automatically, muscle memory from six years of A-list stardom guiding her body even as her mind screamed to run. The camera flashes intensified, and she knew what they were really photographing. Not her Valentino gown or her carefully styled chestnut hair. They were capturing her humiliation, the exact moment America’s Sweetheart discovered her boyfriend no, ex-boyfriend now had his tongue down another woman’s

The Ashford Estate was breathtaking in its understated elegance. Crystal chandeliers cast soft golden light over cream marble floors, and floor-to-ceiling windows revealed manicured gardens illuminated by strategically placed lanterns. Classical music drifted through the air, provided by a live string quartet tucked discreetly in an alcove. Everything whispered of wealth so old and established it didn’t need to shout. Seraphine accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and tried to ignore the eyes that followed her entrance. She’d been recognized immediately, of course even in a room full of celebrities and billionaires, an Academy Award winner drew attention. But the glances she received were different from the usual red carpet stares. More curious than hungry. More respectful than invasive. “See?” Maya murmured beside her. “Different crowd. These people have actual manners.” “They’re still staring,” Seraphine said, taking a sip of champagne to hide her discomfort. “Bec

Wednesday afternoon found Seraphine sitting across from Lizzie Chen in a small, deliberately unpretentious café in Santa Monica. The place was tucked away on a side street, the kind of location that catered to locals rather than tourists, with mismatched furniture and genuinely good coffee rather than Instagram worthy aesthetics.“I love this place,” Seraphine said, genuinely relaxed for the first time in weeks. “How did you find it?”“Marcus and I stumbled on it years ago, before everything got crazy with his company.” Lizzie smiled warmly, stirring honey into her tea. “The owner doesn’t care about celebrity or money. She just makes great coffee and minds her own business. It’s perfect for when you need to feel normal.”Normal. Seraphine had almost forgotten what that felt like.They’d been talking for an hour easy conversation that ranged from books to travel to the challenges of maintaining identity when your life was constantly in the public eye. Lizzie had a gift for making peopl

The meeting was arranged for the following Tuesday at a private estate in the Hollywood Hills—neutral territory that belonged to Marcus and Lizzie Chen. Seraphine had insisted on somewhere she felt safe, and Lizzie had immediately offered their home. “He’ll come,” Lizzie assured Seraphine over the phone. “Damien doesn’t do meetings often, but when he commits to something, he follows through.” “Is he angry?” Seraphine asked, surprised by how much the answer mattered. “That I figured it out?” “Angry?” Lizzie laughed softly. “Sera, Damien Hale doesn’t get angry. He gets calculating. But no, I don’t think he minds. Marcus says he seemed almost… pleased when he heard you wanted to meet.” That should have been reassuring. Instead, it made Seraphine more nervous. The days leading up to the meeting crawled by with agonizing slowness. Seraphine rehearsed what she’d say, how she’d handle confronting the most powerful man in the world about his unsolicited protection. Maya helped her prepar

The next two weeks passed in a strange sort of equilibrium. Seraphine threw herself into workscript readings, meetings with directors, a photo shoot for a luxury fashion campaign that would have been unthinkable during her relationship with Derek. Her agent was thrilled with the opportunities flooding in, and Maya was cautiously optimistic about her emotional recovery. But beneath the surface of professional success, Seraphine couldn’t stop thinking about Damien Hale. He kept his word about transparency. Every few days, she’d receive a text informing her of something he’d handled a paparazzo who’d been following her too aggressively had been warned off, a gossip blogger planning to write a hit piece about her “mystery protector” had been legally discouraged, Derek’s fourth attempt to contact her through various channels had been blocked. Each message was clinical, factual, delivered without expectation of gratitude or response. But Seraphine found herself responding anyway. Damien