Lahat ng Kabanata ng Signed, Sealed, I’m Rich: The Rejected Luna’s Multi-Billion : Kabanata 71 - Kabanata 80

Barnabas’s POV“You need to stop right there,” I said, my voice sharp enough to cut through the heavy air of the dining room.Portia didn’t listen. She kept lunging toward me with a look of frantic desperation, her face flushed and her eyes darting around like she was hunting for a prize. I didn’t move an inch to meet her. I just snapped my hand up, palm flat, creating a wall of air between us. She skidded to a halt three meters away, her mouth hanging open in total confusion.The room was a mess of noise. Behind me, I heard my parents whispering in rapid, jagged bursts. My aunts let out sharp gasps of air. I blocked them out. My focus was on the centre of the room, where the light hit the polished table and the people who had just ruined my life. I stepped past Portia, ignoring her entirely, and walked straight into the heat of the circle.“Margot,” I said. My voice was shaking, but not from fear. It was the kind

Salome’s POV“You have to understand the scale of this,” Jeremiah said, his voice coming through the speaker with a heavy, deliberate edge. “This isn’t just a spat with Margot anymore. You are picking a fight with the Vanes. You are taking on the Richardsons. These are the foundations of the city, Salome. You are standing in the path of two dynasties all by yourself.”I gripped the phone tighter, my knuckles turning a dull white. My chest felt tight, but my mind was unusually clear. “It doesn't change anything for me. A small fight or a massive one, it all feels the same when you’re the one getting hit. They already dragged my name through the dirt. I don’t have any pride left to protect. There is nothing they can take that I haven't already lost.”The line went quiet. I could almost picture him on the other end, standing by a floor-to-ceiling window, looking out over the skyline with that unreadable expression. When he finally spoke again, his tone had shifted from a warning to someth

Salome’s POV“She was the one,” Barnabas muttered, his voice dropping an octave as he looked at the floor. “I’m not trying to say Portia is innocent. My mother never would have pushed it this far if someone hadn't been whispering in her ear and pulling the strings.”I crossed my arms, feeling the cold draft from the window. “Was it blackmail, then? Or did Portia just offer her a prize she couldn’t turn down?”“A bit of both, probably,” he said. He looked up, his eyes catching the light from my phone. “I know you’re recording this, Salome. I’m not an idiot.”I didn't flinch. I just tilted the screen toward him a fraction more. “I’m glad you know. This is my insurance. If anyone tries to rewrite history or drag my name through the mud again, the press gets the full audio.”The air between us felt heavy and stale. I took a slow breath, trying to push past the bitterness that tasted like copper in the back of my throat. “This is the end, Barnabas. We are done. If you keep trying to fix thi

Salome’s POV"Do you remember the time you thought the training wheels were just a suggestion?" Grandma asked, her voice light with a teasing edge.She was humming a soft melody while she worked, a tune that dragged me right back to being five years old with scraped knees and a bruised ego. Mom was at the counter next to her, the rhythmic thud of her knife against the cutting board filling the kitchen as she minced garlic.I leaned against the doorframe, feeling a strange tug in my chest. "I really believed I could fly down that hill.""You didn't fly," Grandma said, chuckling as she stirred the red sauce. "You took out the entire row of hydrangea bushes. I still think that shrub never recovered."Mom let out a short, bright laugh. It was the first time I had heard her actually sound happy in over a week. "You walked back into the house covered in dirt, holding a broken branch like it was a trophy."The kitchen felt warm, smelling of b

Jeremiah’s POV“Is there a problem, Jeremiah?”I looked up from the long table in my mother’s sitting room. Glossy headshots of women were spread across the dark wood like playing cards. Each photo came with a list of assets, family titles, and business connections. To my mother, this was a strategic map for my future. To me, it was a collection of strangers with practiced smiles.My phone vibrated against the mahogany surface, cutting through the silence. I didn't recognize the number, but the timing felt like a lifeline. I picked it up immediately.“Jeremiah speaking,” I said, my voice steady despite the irritation prickling at my neck.“Alpha Jeremiah? It’s Clementine. Something happened to Salome.”The frantic edge in her voice made me stand up. I walked toward the window, putting my back to the table and my mother’s curious gaze.“Slow down,” I commanded. &ld