All Chapters of Bound to My Sister's Billionaire Crush: Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

185 Chapters

Chapter 131: Trapped in a Fishbowl

- SIERRA"You have got to be shitting me," I whispered to the empty room.My phone was practically vibrating out of my hand. I stared at the screen, my thumb frozen over the refresh button on the Daily Ledger feed. There it was. A grainy, black-and-white sonogram, looking like some twisted piece of abstract art, right next to Desmond’s stupid, handsome face. The caption below it was a calculated psychological warfare: “Building the next Zimmerman legacy.”My stomach lurched again, but this time it had nothing to do with morning sickness. It was from the panic crashing over me.I scrambled off the bed and ran to the heavy drapes, yanking them back just an inch. Eighty stories below, the street looked like a disturbed anthill. The paparazzi hadn't just doubled; they’d brought reinforcement vans, satellite dishes, and a small army of telephoto lenses aimed straight up at our glass terrace. The main garage exit was completely choked out by a wall of black jackets and flashing bulbs.I ba

Chapter 132: The Escape

- SIERRA"The service chute," Aleena said finally, her keyboard clacking, dropping off completely. Her voice was suddenly dead serious. "Sierra, listen to me. I have checked the blueprint. Inside your guest room utility closet, behind the extra linens, there’s an old wall panel. It’s the building’s industrial laundry and trash elevator, the old mechanical lift from before the high-rise renovation."I heard her take a sharp breath, her fingers flying across the keys again."It runs on the building's core utility grid, not Desmond’s private automated system. The guards won't see it cycle on their monitors. I’m pulling up the maintenance mainframe right now using my tech division clearance. I can force a manual override from my terminal to unlock the gate on the eighty-floor junction. Give me ten seconds.""Ten seconds? Lee, I can literally hear one of the guards pacing right outside my penthouse door," I whispered, my heart racing wildly that it felt like it was going to break through.

Chapter 133: The Six-Hour Blindspot

- DESMOND"I don't give a shit about the European logistics variance, Frank," I slammed my palm down on the glass conference table, making three water glasses rattle. "The board approved the Q2 maritime margins back in November. Why am I sitting in an emergency session on a Friday morning discussing a routine dock tariff?"Frank, the senior trustee for the Zimmerman estate funds, adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses and slid another three-inch-thick binder across the table toward me. "Because four institutional hedge funds just pooled twenty-two percent of the voting stock. They’re calling for a structural audit of the Wellington joint venture. If we don’t restructure the board seats by the closing bell, the stock is going to drop another eight points."I stared at the binder, my teeth grinding until my jaw throbbed.Six hours.I’d been trapped in this soundproofed cage on the top floor of the Zimmerman Tower for six miserable hours. My phone had been buzzing with alerts from the Daily Le

Chapter 134: Ghosting the Empire

- DESMOND"Play it again," I said, leaning so close to the monitor my breath was fogging up the glass. "The gray sedan at the Lincoln Tunnel toll booth. Zoom in on the driver."Nigel tapped a key on his mechanical keyboard. The grainy, rain-blurred traffic cam footage paused. He enhanced the frame, pixelating the driver's face into a messy smudge of flesh tones and shadows."It's a sixty-year-old guy with a mustache, boss," Nigel sighed, dropping his hands off the keys. He looked completely wiped out, his tie loosened and his eyes bloodshot. "That's the fifth gray Nissan we've tracked since noon. None of them are her."I slammed my fist into the leather armrest of my chair. "She didn't just evaporate into thin air, Nigel! She was driving a silver or gray sedan. Aleena’s cousin’s car. Run the plate registry for every Ben in the tri-state area again.""I did," Nigel said with exhaustion. "Three times. The only cousin named Ben in Aleena's family tree lives in Ohio and his car is current

Chapter 135: Fresh Air and All Alone

- SIERRAThe Boston rain didn't feel like the New York rain. It was grittier, smelling like salt water, diesel exhaust, and old wet bricks. By the time I pulled the dented Nissan into a dark corner lot near South Station, my shoulders were so stiff they felt like blocks of wood.I sat there with the engine idling, the heater blowing out a pathetic, lukewarm stream of air that sent the chill through my bones. My phone was sitting in the cup holder, its screen lighting up every few minutes with corporate news alerts about the Zimmerman stock stabilization."Yeah, well, good luck stabilizing this," I muttered to the empty dashboard.I popped the SIM tray with a bent paperclip I’d found in the glove box, pulled the tiny plastic chip out, and snapped it clean in half between my thumbnails. It felt surprisingly brittle, like a dry cracker. I shoved the broken pieces into my pocket, grabbed the heavy canvas backpack from the passenger seat, and stepped out into the freezing drizzle.South St

Chapter 136: First Client

- SIERRAThe radiator in the corner sounded like a dying lawnmower, and the window frame let in a draft that practically gave me frostbite through my socks. But it was twelve hundred square feet of absolute glory."Just sign right here, Miss Figueroa," the landlord said, hacking a wet cough into his sleeve as he pointed a stubby, nicotine-stained finger at the lease.I didn't hesitate. I scrawled my maiden name on the dotted line as I handed over a cashier's check that took a massive, terrifying bite out of my remaining cash reserves."Keys are on the counter," he grunted, waddling out the door and slamming it behind him. The glass pane in the door rattled so hard I thought it was going to shatter right there on the floor.I stood in the middle of the empty room, the smell of old leather and floor wax hitting my nose. It was a sketchy little loft in the Leather District, hidden between a wholesale fabric warehouse and a shop that sold industrial sewing machines. Perfect!Honestly, wit

Chapter 137: The Heartbeats

- SIERRAI frowned, staring out at a distant ferry boat. "A promotion? Why would they do that right now?""Because it was a trap, babe," she hissed. "An hour after I signed the internal transfer paperwork, Desmond logged onto the secure video feed himself. Just him and his terrifying, quiet voice. He started asking me about our old project logs from when we worked on the logistics templates in New York. Then he switched gears completely. He asked me straight out if I had anything to do with your escape.""Holy shit, Lee. What did you say?""I played dumb! I mean, I didn't even have to try that hard because I was genuinely terrified," she said with a nervous, hysterical laugh. "He asked how someone bypassed his private foyer security, and I told him I’m just a mid-level UX designer who builds layouts for the company, not some elite hacker who overrides high-rise elevator grids. I told him I didn't have the technical capability or the access codes to touch the building's core mainframe.

Chapter 138: Old Men and Big Money

- SIERRAI pulled out the burner phone and dialed Aleena."Hey," she answered immediately, her voice still strained from her encounter with Desmond. "You okay? How have you been?""I'm good. I went to the obgyn clinic the other day," I whispered, staring down at the little gray ultrasound picture resting on the laminate table next to a salt shaker. "Lee, I heard it."The line went quiet for a second. "The heartbeat?""It sounds like a train," I said, a fresh tear hitting my cheek, though I was grinning so hard that my face ached. "It's so loud, Lee. One-hundred and sixty beats. The doctor said it's totally healthy.""Oh my God, Sierra," Aleena breathed, and I could hear her eyes welling up through the phone. "Wow. Okay. It’s... it’s really happening, huh?""It’s happening," I said, my voice suddenly losing its wobble, turning into something hard and cold as iron. I looked at that tiny white dot on the paper. "And listen to me. Desmond is never touching this kid. I don't care if I have

Chapter 139: Three Desks and a Baby Bump

- SIERRA"Hey, Sarah, do these font mockups look too... I don't know, too exaggerated for an artisanal goat cheese label?"I looked up from my laptop, rubbing the small of my back where a dull, constant ache had been nesting since six a.m. Toby Houghton, my first actual hire, a twenty-two-year-old kid fresh out of MassArt who always wore beanies, was shoving an iPad toward my face."It looks like a heavy metal band logo, Toby," I said, squinting at the sharp, jagged black lettering. "We’re trying to sell organic dairy to suburban moms in Brookline, not launch a mosh pit. Soften the edges. Make it look like the goat had a happy childhood.""Got it. Happy goat vibes. On it," he muttered, shuffling back to his desk.His desk was actually a door we’ve balanced on top of two plastic filing cabinets near the drafty front window. Next to him was Maya Hensley, our copywriter, who was currently mainlining iced coffee and typing so fast it sounded like a machine gun.Maison Nova Creative was of

Chapter 140: Bad Caviar and Worse Company

- DESMONDThe sea bass that used to be my favorite tasted like shit, and the woman sitting across from me was making my teeth ache.We were at Le Petit Chateaux, the kind of midtown place where the lightings are intentionally dim for old billionaires to pretend they were still in their prime.Vivian had texted my personal assistant three times, saying it was an "urgent family matter regarding the estate council." Like a dumbass, I’d actually shown up, thinking her father had finally signed off on the maritime cargo releases.Instead, she was wearing a peach-colored silk dress, swirling a glass of white wine, and looking at me with this sharp, cat-like grin that instantly made me want to fire my entire scheduling team."You're not even touching your appetizer, Dez," she said with a fake, breathy tone. "The chef prepared the truffle oysters specifically for your table.""I have five minutes, Vivian," I said, leaning back in my chair and checking my watch. It was past eight. Nigel was wa

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