THE BILLIONAIRE'S DIRTY SECRET: A FORBIDDEN SECOND CHANCE のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 61 - チャプター 70

THE INEVITABLENOELLE'S POVThe knock on my door came at seven p.m. on the day I finally decided to sleep early.I was curled up on the couch in my favorite oversized hoodie, my plushie on my lap, a half-empty glass of wine on the coffee table. The TV was playing some mindless reality show I wasn’t really watching. After the emotional rollercoaster of the past few weeks. The fight at Sylvia’s birthday dinner, the photos Derek sent, the sweet but fragile nights with Roman, I had been looking forward to a peaceful evening alone.The knock came again, sharper this time.I frowned. I wasn’t expecting anyone. Bria had texted earlier saying she was out with Marcus. Roman was still in Europe for another few days.I stood up, heart beating a little faster, and looked through the peephole.Derek.He was standing in the hallway, hands in his pockets, wearing a casual navy sweater and jeans. He didn’t look angry. He didn’t look like the man who had punched Roman or sent me those haunting Santori

OCEAN AWAYNOELLE'S POVThe days after Roman left for Europe stretched longer than I expected.It had only been five days, but the penthouse felt emptier without him, and my apartment felt quieter than usual. I woke up every morning reaching for the warmth that wasn’t there, then remembered he was across the ocean, handling the Frankfurt deal that had pulled him away so suddenly.We talked every night.Video calls that lasted until one of us fell asleep on the line. He would tell me about the frustrating negotiations, the lawyers arguing over every clause, the way the city felt colder without me. I would tell him about the office gossip, how Bria had walked in on me smiling at my phone like an idiot.He always ended the calls the same way.“I miss you,” he would say, voice low and sincere. “I’ll be home soon. I promise.”And I believed him.But the doubt Derek had planted still lingered in the quiet moments.The name sat in the back of my mind like an unopened letter I was too afraid

IT'S REALNOELLE'S POVThe penthouse was quiet when I arrived that evening.Roman had texted me earlier: Come over when you’re ready. I need to tell you everything.I knew what “everything” meant.After weeks of avoiding the conversation, after Derek’s photos and warnings, after the gallery comment and the growing unease, I had finally asked him directly.“Tell me about Liana. And about Derek. All of it.”He hadn’t dodged it this time.He had simply replied: Tonight. At my place. Just us.Now I was here.He opened the door before I could knock. He looked exhausted from the long flight back from Europe, but his eyes softened the moment they landed on me.“Noelle,” he said softly, stepping aside to let me in.I walked into the familiar space, the city lights twinkling beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows.We sat on the couch, close but not touching. The tension was thick, but it wasn’t angry. It was heavy with everything we hadn’t said.Roman ran a hand through his hair, then looked at m

RIGHT NEXT DOORNOELLE'S POVThe gala noise faded behind us as Roman took my hand and led me down a quiet side corridor.“Where are we going?” I whispered, my heart already racing.He didn’t answer. Instead, he pushed open a heavy oak door into a dimly lit library room adjacent to the main hall. Books lined the walls from floor to ceiling, and a single antique lamp cast a warm, golden glow over leather armchairs and a large wooden desk. The door clicked shut behind us, muffling the music and chatter from the ballroom next door.Roman turned to me, eyes dark with hunger.“I’ve been waiting all night to get you alone,” he murmured, backing me against the door.His mouth crashed down on mine before I could protest. The kiss was deep, urgent, and possessive. The kind that made my knees weak. His hands slid down my sides, gripping my hips and pulling me flush against him. I could already feel how hard he was.“Roman,” I gasped between kisses, my palms pressed against his chest. “Your famil

DeClanROMAN'S POVMy phone rang while I was standing on the terrace of my penthouse, coffee in hand, watching the city slowly wake up beneath the early morning light.The name on the screen made my stomach tighten.MotherI answered on the third ring, keeping my voice neutral.“Mom.”“Roman.” Sylvia’s voice was crisp and controlled, the way it always was when she had something important or unpleasant to discuss. “We need to talk about Noelle Carter.”I set the coffee mug down on the stone railing and leaned against the glass barrier, bracing myself.“What about her?”A short pause. I could picture her perfectly: sitting in her sunlit study, pearls at her throat, posture impeccable even when no one was watching.“I saw you with her at the gala last night,” she continued. “The way you looked at her. The way you pulled her aside when you thought no one was paying attention. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”I stayed silent, letting her speak.Sylvia sighed, a rare sound of genuine wearines