Semua Bab THE BILLIONAIRE'S DIRTY SECRET: A FORBIDDEN SECOND CHANCE: Bab 21 - Bab 30

NEGATIVENOELLE'S POVThe next evening, Bria showed up at my door with a determined look on her face and a plastic bag full of supplies and a look that said she wasn’t taking no for an answer tonight.“No more avoiding this,” she declared, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “We’re doing the tests tonight. All of them. Together. No spiraling in silence. No more pretending everything is fine while you’re slowly losing your mind.”I stood there in my oversized grey hoodie and leggings, hair in a messy bun, feeling exposed even though I was fully dressed. Milo sensed the heavy energy immediately and disappeared under the couch with a low meow.“Bria, I—”“Nope.” She held up a hand, cutting me off. “Ten days late, Noelle. Ten. You’ve been walking around like a beautiful ghost for over a week. We’re facing this head-on. Right now.”She emptied the bag onto my kitchen counter. Three different pregnancy tests. The expensive digital ones that spelled out the words, plus a few e

NOELLE'S POVThe elevator doors closed with a soft, final ding, and I was left standing there, skirt still slightly bunched around my hips, thighs trembling, breathing like I had just run a marathon.Alone.Roman had walked away without saying a single word.My body was still buzzing from the orgasm he’d ripped out of me with ruthless efficiency. My pussy throbbed with aftershocks, wet and aching, the evidence of what just happened slick between my thighs. My lips felt swollen. My legs barely held me up.And he had just… left.I pressed my back harder against the mirrored wall, trying to steady myself as the elevator descended back to my floor. My reflection stared back at me. Flushed cheeks, messy hair, eyes glassy with a confusing mix of pleasure and fury.He had used me.After eleven days of silence, after giving me the space I asked for, he had cornered me, fingered me in the elevator like I was his personal stress toy, and then walked away like it was nothing.The anger hit me li

CRIMSON SINROMAN'S POVThe Hawthorne Charity Gala was one of the most anticipated events of the season, but I didn’t give a fuck about the cause, the donors, or the press tonight.I only cared about one thing.Noelle.I stood near the grand staircase of the opulent ballroom, whiskey in hand, watching the entrance like a predator. The room was filled with New York’s elite. Crystal chandeliers, live orchestra, flowers worth more than most people’s monthly rent, but none of it registered.Then she walked in.And the entire world narrowed to a single point.Fuck.Noelle wore a deep crimson gown that looked like it had been poured over her body. The dress was sin incarnate. A plunging neckline that showcased the smooth brown skin of her cleavage, a slit up one thigh that revealed her leg with every step, and a back so low it barely existed. Her natural curls were styled in soft waves, and her obsidian eyes were lined with something that made them look even more dangerous.She looked like

LIANANOELLE'S POVThe silence in my apartment felt heavier than usual that evening.I sat on my couch with my legs tucked under me, a half-eaten bowl of pasta growing cold on the coffee table. The TV was on, but I wasn’t watching it. My mind kept replaying the penthouse visit. Roman’s apology, the slow, deep kiss, the way he had looked at me like I was the only thing anchoring him to earth.And then my own words: “I can’t. Not yet.”I had walked away from him again.I rubbed my temples, trying to ease the headache that had been building since I left his building. Part of me regretted not staying. Another, louder part was terrified that staying would have meant losing the last bit of control I had left.My phone buzzed on the table. For one stupid second, my heart jumped, thinking it might be Roman. It wasn’t.Bria: Milo is being a dramatic little shit again. He keeps staring at the door waiting for you. Miss you, bestie. Come over soon?I smiled weakly and replied.Noelle: Miss you b

BLACK ROSES AND POISONED TRUTHNOELLE'S POVThe knock on my door came later that evening.I was already in my pajamas, my hair messy, coffee barely touched, when I opened it to find a delivery man holding the most beautiful and unusual bouquet I had ever seen.Two dozen black roses.Deep, velvety black petals that looked almost dangerous in their perfection. They were wrapped in sleek matte black paper with a single silver ribbon. The delivery man handed me the bouquet along with a small cream envelope.“From Mr. Ashford,” he said with a polite nod before leaving.I stood frozen in my doorway, staring at the roses like they might bite me.They were stunning. Romantic in the most Roman way possible. They're not red, not pink, not safe. Black. Intense. Unapologetically.My hands trembled slightly as I carried them inside and set them on the kitchen counter.I opened the envelope.The note was written in Roman’s strong, elegant handwriting:“Not as a demand. As a promise that I can be