UNDESERVED ROMANCE WITH MR. BILLIONAIRE のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

Richard’s face was ashen. His hands, usually so steady in a courtroom, were trembling as he reached for the guest log. He didn't need to read the names because the date, the room number, the hazy memory of a girl in a silver mask begging for help, all blended into a single, devastating realization.Everywhere was silent, the penthouse was no longer my sanctuary; it was a vacuum, sucking the air out of my lungs. I looked at Richard, the man who had sheltered me, fed me and walked away from a fortune for me. Then I looked at the manila envelope, the thin paper barrier holding the truth of the night that had ruined my life."Oakhaven," Richard said thoughtfully, his voice muffled. "I was there for the acquisition. I was in Suite 802. I thought... I thought you were someone else. I thought you were a gift from the firm, or a distraction I’d finally allowed myself."I retreated until my heels hit the glass balcony door. “You were the one then Richard!” I inhaled and exhaled slowly. “The nig

"Sir, they will tear you apart!" the security said in panic."Let them try." Richard pushed past the guard and shoved the heavy glass doors open."Mr. Jones," the head of building security said, stepping forward with a pale, stressed face. "Sir, we’ve called the district, but they’re taking their time. You shouldn't go out there for now. We can arrange for a decoy car in the underground garage to take you away.""No," Richard said, his voice a low, gravelly rasp. "My corporate cars have been seized by my father’s legal team, and my private driver was reassigned at midnight. I’m walking."The lobby of the Jones & Associates residential tower was a masterpiece of modern architecture, all imported Italian marble, cascading water features, and floor-to-ceiling glass. Usually, a fortress of tranquillity. However, today, it was a war zone.As the private elevator doors slid open, the sound hit Richard like a physical wave. Beyond the reinforced glass doors of the lobby, a sea of paparazzi su

"You’re awake," Bonny said without looking up. "Then stand up and eat, there’s sourdough and jam on the stove. You’ll need the sugar.""Bonny," I said, my voice still raspy from sleep. "About that man yesterday... he’s just the beginning. The people looking for me aren't just rich, they’re influential, and can buy the police. In fact, they can buy the news."Inside Bonny & Co. Antiquities and Bound Pages, the air was thick with the scent of pine woodsmoke and the comforting, earthy aroma of brewing coffee. The morning in Crescent Cove arrived not with a sunrise, but with a gradual thinning of the oppressive grey fog into a dull, silvery mist.I woke up on the small cot, my body feeling heavier than it ever had. Every muscle ached from the previous day's flight, but the sharp, terrifying cramps had subsided into a dull, manageable thrum. I sat up, pulling Bonny’s oversized wool blanket around my shoulders, and looked around the back room. It was a fortress of knowledge, stacks of leath

Richard didn't flinch. He stood in the center of the room, the dim orange glow of the woodstove casting long, voracious shadows across his face. He looked like a man who had already died once and found the experience liberating. In his right hand, he gripped the silver-headed walking stick Bonny had left behind. In his left, he held nothing but the cold air of a town that didn't know his name.Nora Hayes stepped over the threshold. She was a vision of jagged, expensive fury. Her cream-colored wool coat was spotless, a sharp contrast to the grime of the passageways, and her blonde hair was pinned back so tightly it seemed to pull the skin of her face into a permanent snarl. Behind her stood two men, heavy-set, silent, and wearing the tactical gear of "private security" that usually meant "paid silence.""Look at you, Richie," Nora said, her voice dripping with a poisonous blend of pity and triumph. She glanced around the dusty, cramped shop with a look of profound disgust. "The heir to

Miller looked around the shop. His eyes lingered on the discarded walking stick, then on a smear of red on the edge of a mahogany table. He walked over to it, touched it with a gloved finger, and looked back at Bonny. The silence stretched, thin and brittle."Seems like a lot of excitement for a Tuesday," Miller said slowly. He looked toward the back room, where Richard was hiding. "You sure there ain't no one else in here, Bonny? Someone in a dark SUV that nearly ran me off the road on the way in?""Tourists, Sheriff," Bonny said, his voice dropping to a confidential conspirator's tone. "They drove in, realized the town was closed for the season, and left in a hurry. You know how they are. No respect for the speed limit or the quiet."The Sheriff sighed, a long, weary sound. He knew Bonny was lying. But in a town like this, a known lie was often safer than an unknown truth. He looked at me again, his gaze softening just a fraction. "Keep an eye on her, Bonny, and fix that door before