บททั้งหมดของ Bound to My Sister's Billionaire Crush: บทที่ 71 - บทที่ 80

- SIERRAI didn’t realize how empty I was until the first bite of that salad hit my tongue. It wasn't even good—the lettuce was limp, and the dressing was too sour—but I inhaled it. Then I moved on to the side of fries that Michael pushed toward me. I was starving, the kind of hunger that comes after my world burns down and I’ve spent forty-eight hours running on nothing but spite and black coffee.Michael just watched me, sipping his coffee. He didn't push and rush. He just let me eat until the edge of that frantic, hollow feeling in my gut finally started to dull."Better?" he asked, once I set the fork down."A little," I said, wiping my mouth with a thin paper napkin. I leaned back, my hand instinctively going to my pocket where the recorder was still running. "Okay, Michael. I’m full and caffeinated. No more small talk. Why did you bring me here?"His expression shifted. The polite, corporate mask he’d been wearing for weeks dropped away, replaced by something harder and much mor

- SIERRALorenzo stared into the fire for a long time, his hands shaking as they gripped the silver head of his cane. The orange light caught the deep wrinkles on his forehead, making him look even older than he probably was."Your mother was a spitfire, child," he said, his voice sounding like gravel grinding together. "Lilian was the crown jewel of this family. But she had a weakness for a pretty face and a silver tongue. She fell for him. Elias Galbraith.""Elias Galbraith," I repeated. The name felt heavy and strange in my mouth. "Who is he?""The son of my greatest rival," Lorenzo spat. He shifted in his chair, a grimace of pain crossing his face. "The Galbraiths and the Figueroas have been at each other's throats for three generations. It was a total tragedy, only with more lawyers and blood. Elias was the golden boy of the Galbraith empire—smart, charming, and a complete piece of shit."I leaned forward, my elbows resting on my knees. "So she ran away with him?""She didn't jus

- SIERRAI hesitated, glancing at the amber liquid as I weighed my options. It would be easier to just take a sip than to explain why I was refusing, but I knew I couldn't. With the pregnancy, alcohol was completely off the table."I'll pass," I said, forcing my voice to stay calm between the lies. "My stomach has been a mess since I landed. Alcohol is the last thing I need right now."Lorenzo's white eyebrows shot up. "It’s the good stuff, Sierra. Might be the only thing that settles your nerves.""I'm serious, Grandpa," I insisted, crossing my arms over my middle as if to shield the tiny secret growing there. I couldn't let a single person in this house, not even him, know that I was carrying the next heir. Not while a fake granddaughter was roaming around and the Galbraiths were circling like vultures. "Just get me some water. I need to keep a clear head if we’re going to tear her story apart.""Grandpa, about my mother, Lilian... what was she like? Before everything went wrong?" I

- SIERRAI woke to a sliver of light cutting across the room through the French doors. For a second, I forgot where I was. The adrenaline from last night hadn't faded. It had just crystallized into a hard, sharp focus. I was in my mother's room, in my grandfather's house, and my life was a house of cards built on a foundation of lies.I pushed myself out of bed, my bare feet sinking into the plush carpet. I walked over to the vanity and stared at the woman in the mirror. Same dark hair, same determined eyes. Same face as the woman in the photos. My mother. She looked so happy, so full of life. It was hard to believe she was the same woman who had abandoned me.A soft knock on the door made me jump. "Miss Sierra? Are you awake?" Isaac’s voice was muffled.I quickly opened the door to see him standing there, holding a silver tray with a coffee pot and a single, perfect daisy in a small vase."Breakfast is being served on the terrace," he said steadily and calmly like a mountain lake. "

- DesmondI tossed the leather-bound folder onto the desk with a heavy thud. I’d gone through every page twice. The International Partnership Agreement was perfect. The margins were clean, the legal jargon was tightened to a professional shine, and the profit projections weren't just optimistic, they were realistic.It had Sierra’s fingerprints all over it. Not literal ones, but the phrasing, the way the clauses were structured to protect both sides while leaving a backdoor for growth. It was her style."They used her," I muttered, leaning back until my chair let out a sharp metallic protest. "Even after everything, she still fixed their mess."Nigel was by the bar cart, pouring two fingers of bourbon. He didn't look back. "The Wellingtons have always been good at delegating their survival to her. It’s a habit they haven't broken."He walked over and set the glass on my coaster. I didn't touch it. I was staring at a specific sub-clause on page twelve. Sierra had probably pulled an al