Semua Bab Signed, Sealed, I’m Rich: The Rejected Luna’s Multi-Billion : Bab 251 - Bab 260

Salome’s POV"Are you going to tell me why I’m actually here, or should I prepare myself for a round of rabies shots?"I held my breath, waiting for the reaction. Jeremiah stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass of his office, his back to the room. The morning light caught the sharp line of his shoulders beneath his white dress shirt. He had ditched his suit jacket, and the sight of those broad, tense muscles made my pulse kick against my ribs.He didn't turn around immediately. He kept his thumbs moving over his phone screen for a long beat. When he finally looked at me, his face was a mask of cold efficiency. The man staring me down now, clean-shaven and detached, felt nothing like the version of him that had haunted my bedroom for the last eight hours.Last night, my own hands had been a poor substitute for his. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt his weight. Every time I reached for a phantom touch, I whispered his name into the empty dark. Now, seeing him in his element, that heat ret

Salome’s POV“Are you planning to leave those on his grave, or is he still breathing?” I asked, keeping my voice low as the nurse hurried down the hall.Jeremiah didn’t break his stride. “Let’s see if he’s still with us.”The nurse stopped in front of a heavy door, her eyes fixed on the floor. She looked like she wanted to run. She pushed the door open and retreated before we could even thank her. The room smelled like industrial cleaner and stale air.Ben Wilde sat propped up in the center of the bed. He was a mess. A thick bandage ringed his head, and his right leg was suspended in a heavy traction cast. His face was a map of purple and yellow bruising, his eyes swollen into thin, dark slits.I let out a sharp, jagged laugh. It wasn’t polite, and I did not care.Ben’s head snapped toward us. His gaze locked onto the bouquet in Jeremiah’s hand. His nostrils flared. “Why the hell did you bring those?”Jeremiah ignored him and stepped forward. He placed the chrysanthemums on the rolling

Portia’s POV“Are you quite finished yet, or do you plan on listing every Friday night I spent here for the rest of the evening?” I asked, my voice tight as I pulled my hand back.The manager blinked, his face flushing a deep shade of crimson as he looked from me to Jeremiah. He had been so eager to recount the history of my visits with Barnabas that he had not noticed the temperature in the room plummet. Beside me, Jeremiah stood perfectly still. His jaw was set, and his eyes were cold slits of dark glass.“I apologize,” the manager stammered, rubbing his hands together. “I clearly have you confused with someone else. Please, follow me.”He hurried toward the back of the restaurant, putting as much distance between himself and the awkward silence as possible. I trailed behind him, trying to keep my breathing steady. The scent of coconut milk and spicy chilies hit me, followed immediately by the sharp, metallic tang of an old, unwanted memory. I felt the phantom sensation of a hand res

Luciana’s POV"You really think those people are untouchable?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.Duke leaned back, his eyes unreadable. "In this city, influence buys more than just silence. It buys a clean slate."I forced a tight smile. "I need some air. Excuse me for a minute."I pushed my chair back, the screech of legs against the floor sounding too loud in the quiet room. I didn't head for the restroom. I walked straight to the patio door. The afternoon air hit my face, cooler than the air inside, though the faint smell of stale tobacco clung to the concrete.I checked over my shoulder. The patio was empty. I pulled my phone out and dialed Clementine. She picked up on the third ring. I kept my voice low, outlining everything Duke had just told me about the ZIKO group and the legal lifeline Portia and her mother had secured."That is bad," Clementine said. Her voice sounded thin, tight with nerves. "I don't know the full extent of the ZIKO group, but the rumors are nasty. People

Salome’s POV“Stay still, little one, I’m not going to hurt you,” I whispered, keeping my voice as steady as possible.The tiny kitten huddled in the furthest, darkest corner under the restaurant bench. Her fur was matted with dust, and her frame looked painfully thin. She let out a high-pitched cry that cut right through the ambient noise of the dining room. I reached a hand toward her, but she scrambled back further, her pupils blown wide with terror.I pulled my hand back and looked at Jeremiah. He was still hunkered down on the hardwood floor, his expensive suit jacket bunched at his shoulders. He didn’t seem to care about the dust or the stares from nearby tables.“She’s terrified,” I said, shifting my weight on my knees. “She’s completely cornered. Do you think she belongs to someone here? Maybe a staff member’s pet?”Jeremiah leaned in, his eyes fixed on the kitten’s shivering form. “I doubt it. Look at her collar. It is empty.”“We need to get her out before someone steps on he