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หน้าหลัก / Romance / Bound to My Sister's Billionaire Crush / บทที่ 121 - บทที่ 130

บททั้งหมดของ Bound to My Sister's Billionaire Crush: บทที่ 121 - บทที่ 130

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Chapter 121: The Office Explosion

- DESMONDThe double glass doors to my office didn't even click all the way open before Vivian strolled in like she owned the goddamn building.She was wearing this ridiculous white power suit, her heels tapped against the hardwood floor with an annoyingly steady beat that made my jaw lock instantly. She had an espresso in one hand, trailing the scent of expensive vanilla perfume behind her, looking like she’d just personally saved the Zimmerman empire from a nose-dive instead of blowing my entire life to pieces before breakfast."Morning, Des," she purred, setting the cup right on the edge of my mahogany desk. She leaned against the wood, crossing her ankles. "You look terrible. Did you get any sleep at all?"I didn't answer. I remained silent. I just sat back in my leather chair, staring at her with a dead, flat look that usually made my managers sweat through their shirts."Oh, come on," she scoffed, rolling her eyes as she reached out to adjust a silver frame on my desk. "Don't be
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Chapter 122: Cold War at Home

- DESMONDThe elevator ride up to the penthouse felt like a walk to the gallows. By the time the metal doors slid open, my tie was stuffed into my pocket, and my jacket was draped over my shoulder. I had a whole speech lined up. I was going to look Sierra in the eye and lay out the whole damn thing, the offshore files, Vivian’s threats to Randy, all of it.But the second I stepped onto the hardwood, the speech died in my throat.The place was dead quiet. No TV, no running water, not even the sound of her pacing. Just a thick, uncomfortable silence that made the skin on the back of my neck prickle."Sierra?" I called out, tossing my keys onto the counter. They made a loud, lonely clatter against the marble. "Sierra, it’s me. I talked to Randy. It was Vivian, she forced the..."I stopped.I turned and walked down the long hallway toward the far end of the apartment. The guest bedroom door was shut tight. I reached for the brass handle, but before my fingers could even brush the metal, I
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Chapter 123: The Independent Maison Nova Creative

- SIERRAI didn't sleep a single wink. The guest room mattress was stiff, but that wasn't what kept my eyes glued to the ceiling until the sky turned a bruised shade of grey.It was my phone. The damn thing wouldn't stop vibrating against the nightstand. It was a relentless, low buzz that felt like a drill boring right into my skull. Every tabloid in the tri-state area had apparently found my number. The unread notifications were scrolling so fast that the screen was literally hot to the touch. Comment on the Zimmerman heir? Are you the Wellington Heiress? Do you have a statement regarding Vivian Wellington?I didn't open a single one. I didn't click the links. I didn't want to see Desmond’s polished corporate headshot plastered next to some trashy headline about a secret baby. Instead, I flipped the phone face down, shoved it under a pile of extra blankets, and pulled my old, scratched MacBook onto my knees.If my life was going to be a total train wreck by sunrise, I was at least go
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Chapter 124: Getting Skin in the Game

- SIERRA"They’re reviewing the deck right now," Aleena’s voice crackled through my laptop speakers, sounding like she was chewing on a morning piece of toast. "But Sierra, are you sure about the pricing? We’re undercutting the big New York firms by like, forty percent. We have to pay our cloud hosting fees next week.""I don't care about the profit margin right now, Lee," I said, leaning my back against the guest room wall, my legs crossed tightly on the carpet. A half-eaten box of crackers sat next to my knee. "I need the name. If we lock in Solis Botanicals, the rest of the green beauty market will follow. Did you reach out to their marketing VP directly like I told you?""Yeah, Maya picked up on the second ring," Aleena sighed. "She remembers your work from the old days. She was actually thrilled you’re back in the game. But she did ask why you aren't using the Wellington email handle anymore.""What did you tell her?""Told her you went rogue. Independent boutique vibes. She love
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Chapter 125: Squeezing the Supply Chain

- DESMOND"They did what?" I slammed my hand on the conference table, making three separate iPads rattle."They pulled the entire Jersey allocation, boss," Marcus said, his face pale under the harsh fluorescent lights of the eighth-floor war room. He hadn't changed his shirt in two days, and it showed. "Sixty-two container ships. Just sitting out in the bay, idling. The Wellington logistics team issued a hard freeze at four this morning, citing 'technical compliance reviews.' It’s complete bullshit.""It’s not bullshit, it’s a shakedown," I growled, pacing the length of the glass wall. My head felt like it was packed with wet sand. We’d been in this room for nineteen hours straight, surviving on stale premium coffee and cold pizza that should have been thrown out hours ago. "Where’s Vivian?"Right on cue, my desk phone buzzed. I didn't even wait for Marcus to answer it. I lunged across the table and hit the speaker button."What?" I barked."Desmond, honey," Vivian’s voice came purrin
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Chapter 126: Talking to a Wall

- SIERRAThe glowing numbers on my laptop screen read 3:14 AM.My eyes felt like someone had rubbed sandpaper under the lids, but I couldn't stop. I was deep in the zone, tweaking the colour palette for the Solis Botanicals brand deck, shifting it from that healthcare grey to a warm, rich terracotta that actually looked like real earth. Aleena had left a dozen comments on the shared document before she finally went to sleep, and I was replying to every single one like my life depended on it.Because it did. Every layout choice, every font weight, every line of copy I wrote in this stupid guest room was a brick in a wall I was building between myself and the rest of this city.A moment later, the private elevator door rattled heavily, opening at the far end of the penthouse.I froze, my fingers hovering over the trackpad. I didn't breathe. I just listened to the familiar, dragging cadence of his footsteps coming down the hall. He was moving slowly. Like a guy who’d just spent twenty h
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Chapter 127: Shadow Protection

- DESMOND"Boss, you need to sign off on the morning compliance brief," Marcus said, tossing a fresh tablet onto my desk. He’d finally changed his shirt, but he still looked like he’d been pulled out of a ditch. "The Baltimore transfer went through. The Wellingtons are officially locked out of our southern shipping lanes. But that’s not why I’m here."I didn't look up from my laptop. My eyes were entirely bloodshot, a half-empty mug of cold black coffee sitting right next to my left elbow. "What else is broken, Marcus? Just spit it out.""Nothing’s broken. Our internal legal bots just pulled a flag on a new corporate registration," Marcus said, leaning against the edge of my desk and crossing his arms. "Standard cross-referencing for any new business filings matching the Figueroa name or trust parameters. Someone registered a brand agency yesterday morning."I stopped typing. My fingers froze over the keys. "Sierra.""Yeah," Marcus nodded, squinting at his own phone. "It was registered
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Chapter 128: Who’s Pulling the Strings?

- SIERRA"Lee, are you seeing this?" I practically screamed into my phone, my thumb nearly cracking the screen as I refreshed the analytics dashboard for the fifth time in two minutes."I'm looking at it," Aleena choked out, the sound of her coughing on her morning coffee loud over the speaker. "The servers are literally smoking, Sierra. Solis Botanicals just hit a four hundred percent spike in unique visitors. Our cart conversions are looping. It’s... it’s a total madhouse.""How?" I paced the small rug in the guest room, my chest heaving. "The ad campaign isn't even scheduled to launch until Friday. We haven't even pinned the primary banners to the beauty blogs yet. Is it a glitch? Tell me it's a digital glitch.""It's not a glitch," Aleena said, the frantic clacking of her keys echoing in the background. "The referral tags are completely masked as direct search traffic. It’s like half the Eastern seaboard woke up at seven a.m. and simultaneously decided they couldn't live another d
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Chapter 129: Sick to My Stomach

- SIERRAThe sun wasn't even fully up yet. The sky beyond the floor-to-ceiling kitchen windows had turned a bleak, bruised shade of purple, and I was on my knees on the Italian marble, my hands gripping the sink's edge.I didn't make it to the bathroom. I barely made it past the breakfast island before my stomach completely flipped inside out. I lunged for the small stainless steel trash can by the pantry, hitting the foot pedal so hard the lid slammed back against the cabinetry with a loud bang.God, I hate this. It was awful. It wasn't just the normal morning sickness anymore. The black coffee from the night before and the nonstop stress of the last seventy-two hours had completely wrecked my stomach. Every headline, every buzz of my phone, every mental image of Vivian’s smug face was hitting me all at once, rendering me completely useless over the drain.My throat burned. My chest heaved so hard my ribs felt like they were going to crack.I drew in a shaky breath and rested my fore
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Chapter 130: Shaking on the Pedestal

- DESMONDI sat at my mahogany desk for sixty minutes just staring at the skin on my palms.They were shaking. A hard, rhythmic tremor that I couldn't stop, no matter how hard I clenched my fists. Your touch. Every time you come near me, Desmond... it makes me sick.The words pulsed through my head over and over again. I’ve had board members scream in my face. I’ve had foreign logistics directors threaten to hijack my cargo lines in the middle of the Atlantic. I’ve had my own grandfather tell me I was a failure before I hit my twentieth birthday. None of it ever made my chest cave in like this.I leaned my elbows on the desk and buried my face in my hands, breathing in the dark silence of the study. The great Desmond Zimmerman was completely leveled by a five-foot-five girl in a kitchen floor covered in broken pottery.My private cell phone buzzed against the leather blotter. I didn't want to pick it up. I wanted to throw it through the glass window and watch it drop eighty stories
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