Semua Bab Touched by the Billionaire, Owned by the Devil: Bab 51 - Bab 60

The concealer immediately settled into the deep purple swelling, the thick makeup only highlighting the angry yellow edges of the bruise on my jaw. Wiping it away with a damp tissue just revealed the tender, hot skin underneath, since the dining table corner had left a nasty mark that no amount of expensive cosmetics could hide. A fresh layer of foundation made the reflection look cakey and uneven, drawing even more attention to the discoloration while the skin pulled tight with every movement. Pressing a cold, wet paper towel against the jaw, the sharp throb of pain grounded me in the quiet room, a hiss of breath escaping through my teeth while the cold water dripped onto the porcelain sink. "You're going to rub it raw," Lena said, walking in and dropping her tote on the counter. "It's just stubborn," I replied, keeping my chin tilted down to hide the jawline while tossing the ruined tissue into the trash. "You look like you haven't slept in a week," she noted, leaning against the

The cursor blinked on the spreadsheet, a steady rhythm mocking the heavy droop of my eyelids. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, refusing to type the next row of data. The cashmere cardigan Gideon had given me felt unusually tight across my middle. My hands tugged at the hem, trying to loosen the fabric, but the soft material just pulled taut over the slight, firm curve of my stomach. Three months. The baby was growing, taking up space and draining every ounce of energy I had left. A shadow fell over the desk. Lena stood there, holding a stack of printed reports. "You have been staring at that same cell for ten minutes," she noted, tapping the paper against the partition. "The numbers just need a final check," the excuse fell from my lips automatically. "Gideon needs the coastal projections," she said, dropping the reports next to my keyboard. "He is waiting in his office." The papers felt like lead as I gathered them, the edges sharp against my skin. My palms pressed

The torn pieces of paper had haunted my hands all night. Every time I closed my eyes, the sharp sound of ripping parchment echoed behind my eyelids, the gold seal splitting down the middle while Shane's breathing filled the room. My fingers kept twitching against the steering wheel of the train, phantom strips of paper stuck between my knuckles. The office doors swung open the next morning, and the fluorescent lights hit my face with a harsh, unforgiving glare. My boots dragged across the carpet while I navigated the narrow aisle between the cubicles. The cashmere cardigan Gideon had given me pulled tight across my middle, the fabric riding up with every step. My hand smoothed it down, a nervous habit that had taken root over the past few weeks. Dropping into my chair, the monitor stayed dark while my hands rested on the desk. The keyboard felt cold under my fingertips, the keys pressing back against my skin. A folded piece of paper sat next to my mouse. My name was written ac

"I told you I have it by Friday," Shane shouted into the phone, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the plastic receiver.My hands paused on the kitchen knife, the blade hovering over a half-chopped onion. The apartment walls felt too thin, vibrating with the harsh edge of his voice while I forced my breathing to stay steady."No, you cannot send someone to the house," he continued, pacing the length of the small living room. "I will bring the cash to the usual spot. Just give me until Friday."He slammed the phone down onto the base, the sharp plastic impact echoing off the bare walls. My shoulders stiffened, the cashmere cardigan pulling tight across my ribs as I watched him drag a hand through his hair."Who was that?" I asked, keeping my eyes on the cutting board while the knife resumed its steady rhythm.Shane stared at the blank television screen, his chest heaving. "Just a business associate. Someone who is getting impatient about a loan.""A loan?" I repeated, the word ca

My fingers dug through the tangle of spare pens and sticky notes in the bottom drawer, searching for the backup flash drive. Pushing aside the heavy ink cartridges, I reached for the hidden compartment at the back, only to find the space completely empty. The glossy photo paper was supposed to be buried right there beneath the black plastic. Panic spiked in my chest while my eyes darted across the messy desk, finding the ink cartridges sitting undisturbed where I had just moved them, leaving the missing sonogram exposed to the harsh fluorescent lights. It was a spare printout from my last ultrasound scan, the one I had barely managed to keep after Shane almost threw a massive fit when I walked through the door that day, even though I had told him earlier about the appointment and he just shrugged me off. I still remembered the way his jaw had clenched, the way he had paced the small living room while demanding to know why I got home late that night, right up until I handed him the p