Semua Bab The Billion Dollar Revenge For Lucia Hale: Bab 41 - Bab 50

“Um…” Elara blinked at him, suddenly lost for words. “Thanks. The pleasure is mine.” “I expect all of this must be relatively new to you,” Darren went on. “How did you-”“You’re a bit of a legend around here. I've heard talk about how you rose from nothing to the top.” Elara frowned slightly , wondering what sort of stories people have been peddling about her. “I’ve followed the recent developments with interest,” he continued. “The way you handled the board restructuring was impressive, to say the least. Most people in your position would have spent months trying to get back their footing.”Elara felt a small spark of pride. “Hesitation is expensive,” she replied. “Besides, I had some help.” She looked up at Atlas with an appreciative smile. “Ah, yes.” Darren followed her eyes. “The formidable Atlas Steele. I always said you'd settle down soon enough.” “You two know each other?” Elara asked. “Once upon a time,” he replied, tapping his thumb against her hip. She caught the si

The drive home was quiet. In the back seat of the Rolls Royce, Elara and Atlas sat apart from each other, but she still felt too close. She tried to focus on the flashing lights, on anything else, really, than the cool scent of his cologne or the taste of his lips on hers. She could still feel the press of his hand in her hair, the release of control that she mirrored too. So, why did it all feel…wrong?She finally dared to stare at him. He was looking straight ahead, one hand drumming on his knees. It was so unusual to watch, this man letting his composure slip. Then he turned, and their eyes met. “Are you okay?” “Stop asking me that,” she said quickly. “I’m just…” He trailed off, pressing his lips into a thin line. “What happened back there on the balcony, shouldn't have happened.” She looked away first. “Sure.”“I mean it, Elara. I told you I don't do commitments, and this…” He gestured at the space between them. “It's too dangerous.” She kept her face turned toward the

Earlier that morning, while Elara and Langford were still finishing breakfast, Logan Hale was on the ninth hole in a golf course. The sky was clear, the grass perfect. Two of his old university friends listened with different levels of interest as he complained about his married life. They were actually more interested in their turns to play than in whatever he was saying. After all, they were the sort of men who still measured success by the size of their watches and the age of the women on their arms. “Marielle’s impossible,” Logan muttered, lining up his shot. “The baby cries nonstop, she’s out every other night, and when she is home she’s either high or looking for a fight.”“She sounds like a hoot,” said Donald, the first one. He stifled a yawn the next second, trying not to look bored. “She's not. She's a fucking nightmare,” Logan countered, then took his shot at the ball. And missed. “Then just get a new girl.” The second guy, Arnie, lined his own ball up. “I mean, that’s

Elara accepted Darren's offer for lunch.His reply had been swift: a thank you message, followed by a description of where they could meet. The Glass House was a minimalist restaurant built in the middle of the city. Floor-to-ceiling windows, pale wood, spaced tables and the low murmur of people who did not need to raise their voices to be heard. Another little space of affluence. Elara arrived ten minutes early, hoping to catch a seat before him so she could evaluate him properly…And she found him sitting by the window, facing the door. He waved a hand at her, a sheepish smile on his face. Darren Coleman looked different in daylight. He was still polished and wearing that calm, confident expression. But his curly hair that had looked permed that evening was now tousled and falling over his face. In a black designer shirt and beige pants, he looked very casual, but the thousand-dollar watch changed that narrative. He made looking wealthy very easy; wealthy and handsome. As Elar

The Hale Fashion office was hollow and quiet that Wednesday morning, like a place abandoned.Most of the desks were empty. A few chairs had been left pushed back at odd angles, as if their occupants had stood up in a hurry. The large mood boards that once lined the walls were either stripped bare or left with half-torn sketches curling at the edges. The only place that still had people was the conference room. There, Logan sat at the head of the long table with two lawyers across from him. The last time he had been here, it was to receive the damning news that Lucia was the only one who could carry the IPO launch forward. And now, it was to receive another damning news. Marielle occupied the chair to his right, sober for once, the baby asleep against her shoulder. She hadn’t said much since they arrived. She just stared at the table as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. The older of the two lawyers, Terrance Kline, closed the folder in front of him with a soft clic