Todos os capítulos de Signed, Sealed, I’m Rich: The Rejected Luna’s Multi-Billion : Capítulo 331 - Capítulo 340

Stanley POV"Polaris, is that really you?"The question leaves my throat before I can stop it.The air in the home decor aisle goes completely dead.Salome blinks, her eyes shifting between me and her mother.Hank shifts his weight. His heavy boots crunch against a rogue piece of plastic on the floor.I do not look at them. I keep my eyes locked onto the older woman.The resemblance is too strong. The shape of her jaw, the specific tilt of her head, it all matches the girl from my childhood memories.She was my best friend. She was the only person who made my youth bearable."My name is Penelope," she says.Her voice is tight. It is a thin, reedy sound that does not match the steady tone of the girl I used to know."Penelope," she repeats, her fingers tightening around the handle of her shopping trolley. "Not Polaris."She does not answer the first part of my question. She completely ignores the mention of Remedios.I look at her knuckles. They are turning white against the grey plasti

Salome POV"Salome, who exactly did you say was coming to dinner?" my mother called from the front door.I stopped dead in the middle of the lounge.My fingers froze on the fabric of my pink dress.I counted three seconds of absolute silence from the hallway."Just Clem, Mum," I shouted back.My voice sounded too thin. Too fast.I stepped out of the bedroom and walked toward the small foyer.My feet felt heavy on the floorboards.The front door stood wide open.My father was already standing there, his shoulders squared under his grey cardigan.Clem stood on the welcome mat, holding a bottle of wine.But she was not alone.A large, dark shadow loomed right behind her shoulder."Salome," Clem said, her voice dropping an octave. "I brought a plus one."My heart hammered against my ribs.Jeremiah Shawn stepped into the light of my flat.He wore a black polo shirt that clung to his chest.His black trousers looked expensive, tailored, and completely out of place in my cheap hallway.His pa

Salome POV"You need to stop pretending before he walks through that door."Clem's voice cut through the quiet kitchen.I froze.The glass bottle of orange juice hovered right above my cup.The heavy, sour smell of the fruit hit the back of my throat. It mixed with the sweet scent of the alcohol already in my glass.My stomach did a violent flip."Why would I be nervous?"I forced my hand to stay steady. I poured a slow, thick stream of juice into the liquor.Clem snorted and rolled her eyes.She leaned her hip against the marble kitchen counter. Her fingernails tapped a sharp, rhythmic beat against the stone."Oh, come on," Clem said. She stepped closer, her shadow falling over my glass. "I know that you guys are secretly dating. You can stop the act with me."I kept my mouth shut.I gripped the plastic neck of the juice bottle until my knuckles turned white.Silence was safer. Clem was too smart. She noticed every single shift in my face."I was eavesdropping on them in the hallway,"

Salome POV"You need to sit down and let your daughter serve the dessert, Henry," my mother said, her spoon tapping twice against her empty porcelain plate.My dad shifted in his chair. He did not look at her. He looked straight at the man sitting across from him."I am perfectly capable of clearing a plate, Penelope," my dad muttered.He reached for his glass. His knuckles were white.Jeremiah did not move. He sat perfectly still at the end of my small dining table, his long fingers wrapped around a crystal tumbler. He had barely touched his food. His dark eyes tracked my dad's hand, cool and completely unbothered."I have it, Dad," I said, stepping between them.I took my dad's plate before he could grip it any harder.Clem stood up immediately from the other side of the table. She grabbed the empty salad bowl."I will help you, Salome," Clem said, her voice dropping an octave as she caught my eye.We moved into the small kitchen area. The flat was too tight for this many people. The

Salome POV"What if I fake an injury?" Clem said.She lifted a heavy copper saucepan above the stone floor."Do not do that," I said."It will make a massive crash," she said.She lowered her voice to a sharp whisper."I will scream," she said. "You can tell them my wrist is broken."I reached out.My fingers wrapped around the cold metal handle of the pan.I pulled it down."Jeremiah will see right through it," I said.Clem released her grip."He is a monster," she whispered."I know," I said.I picked up the silver serving tray.The metal handles bit into my palms."We have to go back in," I said.Clem picked up the porcelain coffee pot.Her fingers trembled against the white ceramic.I pushed the kitchen door open with my shoulder.The air in the dining room felt heavy.Nobody was speaking.My father sat at the head of the table.His thumb rubbed the rim of his crystal wine glass.He pressed down so hard his fingernail turned white.Jeremiah sat directly opposite him.His shoulders