Semua Bab Touched by the Billionaire, Owned by the Devil: Bab 71 - Bab 80

My fingers hovered over the keyboard, the coastal shipping rates entirely forgotten while the reality of Gideon’s words settled over the room. The commercial lot next door was supposed to be empty, just a paved overflow structure used for employee parking during the holidays. Gideon stepped out of his office, his posture rigid and his jaw locked tight. The lethal, calculating energy rolling off him made the entire floor go dead silent. Keyboards stopped clicking. Phones stopped ringing. The only sound was the low hum of the ventilation system pushing stale air through the vents. Michael rolled his chair back from his desk, his eyes wide as he stared at the news ticker on his screen. The digital text scrolled rapidly, confirming the acquisition and the immediate groundbreaking schedule. Derek leaned out of the breakroom doorway, a tray of pastries forgotten in his hands. The usual mid-morning buzz of the office had been entirely sucked out of the room, replaced by a heavy, suffo

The intercom buzzed again, a sharp, insistent sound that cut through the heavy silence of the office. "Mr. Vale," Carla’s voice crackled through the speaker, tight with panic. "Mr. Blackstone is on line one. He says he needs Adeline to confirm the time for tomorrow's walk." Gideon’s jaw locked tight. He looked at the phone, then at me, his dark eyes flashing with a dangerous light. He did not reach for the receiver. He just nodded toward the desk. "Take it," he said, his voice low and steady. "Let him hear your voice." I walked over to the desk and picked up the heavy plastic receiver. My fingers trembled slightly, but I pressed the blinking button and held the phone to my ear. "This is Adeline," I said, keeping my tone perfectly level and entirely professional. "Ms. Bennett," a smooth, low voice replied. It was the same voice from the coffee shop. The same voice from the dark balcony. "I am glad you are taking this seriously. The initial site walk is tomorrow at nine

Gideon sat in his leather chair, his pen moving in steady, deliberate strokes across the paper. He had slid the security protocols and the seating chart across the desk an hour ago, trusting me to review the details of the the scattered vendor schedules and revised guest manifests, while he handled the final approvals. I sat on the plush sofa in the corner, a warm mug of tea resting in my hands. The quiet rhythm of the executive suite was comfortable, the low hum of the ventilation system the only sound in the room. My lower back carried a dull, familiar throb, so I shifted my weight and pressed a free hand against the slight curve of my stomach beneath my oversized sweater. A soft knock broke the silence. Carla stepped inside, holding a small, cream-colored envelope. Her posture was rigid, her usual no-nonsense demeanor replaced by a faint line of tension at the corners of her mouth. "Mr. Vale," she said, her voice carefully neutral. "This was hand-delivered to the front desk

The private elevator doors slid open with a soft chime. The penthouse suite stretched out before us, bathed in the dim, golden glow of the recessed lighting. The heavy velvet drapes were drawn, but the layout was exactly as I remembered it from four months ago, from the plush sofa and glass coffee table to the wide doors leading out to the private balcony. Gideon stepped out first and immediately walked to the wall thermostat, turning the temperature up two degrees before moving to the minibar for a bottle of sparkling water and a clean glass. “Sit down,” he said, gesturing to the sofa. His voice was gentle but carried an absolute authority. “You have been on your feet all evening.” “I am fine, Gideon,” I replied, though I walked over and sat on the edge of the cushions anyway. My lower back carried a dull, familiar ache that flared up after standing in heels for too long. He poured the water and handed it to me, his fingers brushing mine with a warmth that felt steady and familiar.

The glass doors of the private medical clinic slid open, letting in a rush of cool morning air. The lobby was bright and quiet, with polished floors reflecting the overhead lights. Gideon walked half a step ahead of me, his attention moving across the room before settling on the reception desk. He had been unusually alert since we left the estate, checking the street through the car window and scanning every entrance we passed. I knew better than to ask him to relax. He would only insist that he was perfectly relaxed while continuing to watch every person who came within ten feet of me. Elias Blackstone stood near the reception desk in a dark suit, his hands tucked into his pockets. He looked up when we entered, and some of the tension left his shoulders when he saw me. “Ms. Bennett,” the receptionist said with a polite smile, “the doctor is ready for you in room three.” Gideon’s hand settled lightly against my back. “I will go in with her.” “The phlebotomist only allows one compan