All Chapters of The Billionaire's Showgirl: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Luca’s mother had signed the dead company back to life.For a full ten seconds, nobody in the penthouse spoke.Not Beth, who had stopped chewing a gummy worm halfway through and now looked as if she was afraid to swallow too loudly.Not Jake, whose hand still hovered over the vendor list.Not Brian, whose entire body had gone into that strange, controlled stillness he used when a situation became too dangerous for ordinary reactions.And not Luca.He stood behind my chair with one hand gripping the back of it, staring at his mother’s name on the screen.Evangeline Moretti.Elegant signature.Old money curves.A woman’s name tucked beneath shell companies, dead land records, hidden ownership amendments, and the maintenance vendor that may have helped a man walk into Euphoria and set the stage for my death.I looked up at Luca.His face had emptied.Not hardened.Emptied

I stood beside Luca because Ronan Kade expected me to stand behind him.That was the first thing I understood.Not from anything Ronan said after the video call. He had been far too careful for obvious threats. Men like him did not wave knives. They left them where you would eventually step.But I understood anyway.He wanted Luca visible and furious.He wanted me hidden and afraid.He wanted New Zenith to look like a city built by a man too distracted by love to protect it.So the next morning, I walked onto the steps of the medical campus with Luca Moretti at my side and every camera in Nevada pointed at us.The desert wind tugged at my hair. Somewhere below the platform, reporters shouted questions over one another, their voices tangling into noise.“Miss Vale, are you afraid?”“Mr. Moretti, is New Zenith safe?”“Was Euphoria targeted again?”“Are the Kades involved?”Luca’s hand hovered at

The entire city celebrated a wedding that was supposed to be private.That was the first sign I should have known better.Nothing about Luca Moretti had ever stayed small once the world decided to look at it, and somehow, by sunrise, New Zenith had turned my quiet ceremony in the unfinished arts center into something between a royal procession, a charity gala, and a rebellion.There were flowers along the construction fencing.White roses. Desert marigolds. Tiny bundles of lavender tied with gold ribbon.Workers in hard hats stood shoulder to shoulder near the courtyard, some still dusty from night shifts, others dressed awkwardly in suits they clearly hated. Nurses from the children’s wing gathered near the front doors, whispering and smiling. Euphoria dancers lined the side path in soft champagne dresses, their sequins catching the morning light like little pieces of fire that had finally learned to be beautiful again.And the children wer

I did not answer him right away.That was the first truth of my almost-wedding.Not because I did not love him. I loved Luca Moretti so much it frightened me sometimes, the way his name had moved from danger to shelter to something lodged permanently beneath my ribs. I loved him standing in front of me with the city still roaring beyond the glass, his black suit rumpled at the cuffs, his eyes darker than the hallway shadows, and a ring held between us like a promise neither of us could afford to make lightly.But love was not the only thing in the room.The fire was there too.It lived in the back of my throat, in the memory of smoke scraping every breath raw, in the cruel shine of a locked door that would not open no matter how hard I pounded. It lived in Luca’s face whenever he looked at my scarf too long or stopped sleeping because surrender felt too much like losing me.The lies were there.Mine. His. Everyone’s.

The first wedding threat arrived before I had even chosen a date.That felt rude.Not terrifying first. Not even shocking. Rude. As if Ronan Kade, or whoever was hiding behind his private little board of cowards and ghosts, had decided my engagement came with an RSVP card addressed to fear.I stared at Brian’s laptop while the anonymous thread glowed against the dining room table.The stolen proposal photo sat at the top of the page.My hand in Luca’s.The ring halfway onto my finger.A private moment turned into a public object, displayed under a string of comments from people who did not sign their names because men who worshiped power rarely had the courage to own their voices.Luca stood behind my chair, silent.That was worse than if he had shouted.I could feel him turning colder by the second. Not at me. Never at me. At the fact that someone had been close enough to see us. At the fact that New