All Chapters of Sold To The Possessive Billionaire In A Suit : Chapter 201 - Chapter 210

Alexander’s POVMy chest tightens with guilt, a muscle snapping between my brows. “Of course, I care what she thinks.”“Sure about that?” Barbara voices softly. “Cause you’re here making a decision for her, and she’s not even aware of it.”“I’m making it for both of us,” I retort, slipping the iPad onto a shelf as I motion toward her again. “I don’t want to put myself out there like that. I don’t want people all up in my business or hers. I don’t like the attention and fame. I don’t want—”“Alex?” She stops me, her hands out, her head shaking slightly. “What are you so afraid of? Why do you want to keep hiding? Take a look outside.” She points a hand toward the sealed window. My head is droning already. “Hundreds of people are here because of you. Because they love you… You and Soph have been married for eight days. And for eight days, nothing has been able to take you guys off number one on the trends. “You’re already out there. You already have the attention and fame. People are al

Sophia’s POVThe whistle is blown for halftime. And the scores:Chelsea 0 - 0 Wolves.Frowning terribly, Alexander swears beside me for the hundredth time, his shoulders slumping as he folds his arms, shakes his head, and taps a foot restlessly against the ground. I should be focused on and worried about the fact that Chelsea hasn’t scored any goals, but I can’t. I lean against Barbara, seated to my left, my shoulders shaking as I chuckle hard, almost in tears.The stadium echoes with murmurs, chants, songs, and cheers from fans while I laugh at my husband’s dilemma. With a wide smile, Barbara drops her eyes to me. “What’s up with him?”“I don’t know…” I choke, my voice fading from all the laughing. Slowly, I lift myself from her lap and turn to Alexander. His attention is on Sean, who’s seated next to him. And I hear him say, “Is Chelsea still going to score any goals? They have got to score. They really have to score… Can we do something about it?”“Cheer louder and pray,” Sean an

Alexander’s POVI raise my head from under the pool, and my hair slides out of her strong grip. Pulsing from heat and an intense urge, I spit out the chlorine water and swipe a palm over my eyes. My other hand goes around her waist, catching her quickly as she loses her footing. We’re thankfully in the shallow part.Her arms quickly clutch around me. Trembling, she catches her breath; her eyes stay closed; our legs brush against each other in the pool. And this time, she makes the first move. She curves her legs around my hips, her grip on me tightening as she fits me.Struggling for control and sanity, my hands slide low to hold her wet and smooth body. I move her back against the pool wall and steal her lips, kissing her hungrily, tearing through her tongue and lips; our teeth gnashing gently. She starts to move against me, gasping softly as we kiss. My veins ripple with desperation. I press myself into her middle, and she moans, dropping her head back. My lips slide to her jaw, he

Penelope’s POV (Psycho)~Connecticut, USA: 04:30 p.m., the previous day~With my face mask and lab coat on, I quietly slip inside the large seminar hall. I keep my head down and scurry forward to a corner on the right side of the hall to find an empty seat at the back. When I lift my head, my eyes scan through, registering about fifty to sixty residents, fellows, doctors, or surgeons seated, all in lab coats and with egos bigger than the human brain.It’s the bi-weekly neurology seminar. A few surgeons attend. As for me, I’m just a psychotherapist who happens to have some free time on my hands. I shouldn’t be here; I should probably be studying, getting some sleep, or on my way home, but I asked around and found out that a certain neurologist will be reviewing a complex patient’s case in a few minutes. And after learning from him over a week ago at Mr. Thorne’s wedding that he’s single, there’s no better place to be than where Doctor Scott Nigel is.I clutch my phone in my hands, st

Penelope’s POV (Psycho)He resumes, “I said to my wife that I wish I’d met her earlier… and of all the times I could choose, I chose a time when she was just a little girl. Ten fu–ing years old… I had my reasons, but…”“Oh… Oh, okay…” I utter. My head starts to spin slowly, springing straight to work. I write in my notepad: ‘Sophia – 10 years old. Alexander – 18 years old’ and ‘He had his reasons.’He always has his reasons.“Isn’t that weird to you?” He questions, irritation in his tone.“Er…” I nod. “It is, but… it will shock you to know what husbands and wives usually discuss in private… as long as you mean no harm, and it causes no harm, it’s not anybody’s business… Or did you mean any harm?”“No. No, I swear… But I can’t sleep. And I wish I hadn’t said that to her.”I tap my pencil against the table and ask, “Why? Did it turn her off?”“No… Sophia is… My wife’s really amazing, and she loved to hear about it, probably because it’s something that can never happen.”“Exactly. It ca