THE BILLIONAIRE'S CONTRACT のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 71 - チャプター 80

The man in the suit didn't look like he belonged. Too clean. Too expensive. Standing outside our library. "Mr. Cole," he said. "Damian." "Richard Hale. Hale Development." He held out a briefcase. "Can we talk?" Damian looked at me. I shrugged. We went upstairs. To the spare room. Hale didn't sit. Looked around once. Nose wrinkled. "I'll get to the point," he said. "$2,000,000. For this building." Damian went still. "Why." "City wants to develop the block," Hale said. "Luxury condos. Retail. This library is in the way." He opened the briefcase. Check inside. Made out to Damian Cole. $2,000,000. "You could start over," Hale said. "Pay debts. Leave this behind. Start a new company." Damian stared at it. Long time. I watched his face. The old Damian would've said yes. In a second. This Damian? He closed the briefcase. "No," he said. "Not for sale." Hale frowned. "Mr. Cole. You’re $40,000 in debt. F

"Ali. Ali, look at me." Damian's voice. Panicked. Close. I opened my eyes. Ceiling. Library ceiling. I was on the floor. His jacket under my head. People around us. "What happened," I whispered. "You fainted," he said. "You're burning up." Mara was already calling 911. "No," I said. "I'm fine." "You're not fine," Damian said. --- ER. White lights. Cold bed. Damian didn't let go of my hand. Not once. Nurse took my temp. 102. Blood pressure low. Dehydrated. "Stress," the doctor said. "And exhaustion. When's the last time you ate?" I didn't answer. Damian did. "Yesterday," he said. "Ramen." The doctor looked at him. "She needs rest. And food. And fluids." He left. Nurse came in with an IV. --- Alone now. Just us. Damian was still holding my hand. Thumb rubbing circles. "I'm sorry," I said. "For what," he asked. "For being sick. For making this worse." He squeezed my hand. "Don't you da

1 year later. The library was loud. And that was good. Kids in the reading corner. Lila running the teen desk. Mara at checkout. Construction noise from the back. Drilling. Hammering. And Damian? Everywhere. --- 6AM: Consultant calls. 8AM: Grant paperwork. 12PM: Meeting with contractors. 5PM: Shelving books. 11PM: Still answering emails. He was losing weight. Dark circles. "I'm fine," he said. "You’re not," I said. "I have to do this," he said. "For the wing. For the grant. For everyone." I watched him. This was the old Damian. Trying to save the world alone. "Let me carry this too," I said one night. "We'll burn out," I said. "We already are," he said. --- Eleanor was here 3 days a week now. Helping. Cooking. "You're both terrible at cooking," she said. "And at sleeping," she added. She didn't ask about the check. Didn't mention it. Just showed up. With groceries. And quiet. --- Month 10 of constr

3 months to go. The spare room smelled like paint. Yellow. Soft yellow. "Sunshine," Eleanor called it. "For two babies," she said. I was on a stool. Belly huge. Painting the trim. Slow. Damian was on the floor. Sandpaper in hand. "These were donated," he said. "From the old library desks." "Wood's good," he said. "Solid." He was building cribs. By hand. Two of them. Side by side. Eleanor was cooking downstairs. Something that smelled like home. "You're both terrible at cooking," she'd said on day 1. "So I fixed it." --- Week 34. Contractions. At 2AM. Damian shot up. "Is it time," he asked. "I don't know," I said. "Pain?" "Yeah." ER. Monitors. Waiting. Doctor checked me. "Braxton Hicks," she said. "False labor." "Go home. Rest." Damian drove us back. Silent. Hands shaking on the wheel. "I'm sorry," I said. "For what," he asked. "For scaring you." "Don't," he said. "I'd rather 100 false ala

Final chapter Car seat. Car seat. Two of them. Damian kept checking the straps. "Too tight?" "Too loose?" "Are they okay?" "They're fine," I said. Exhausted. Smiling. Hospital doors opened. Sunlight. Real air. We drove home slow. To the library. To the apartment above it. --- It was chaos. Instantly. 2AM: Book cried. 2:15: Page cried. 2:30: Both cried. Damian paced. Bottle in one hand. Baby in the other. "Shh," he said. "It's okay." The apartment was small. Two cribs in the nursery. Bassinet in our room. Diapers on the counter. Books everywhere. Library noise downstairs. Kids during the day. Construction still happening next door. "I can't do this," Damian said on night 3. Eyes red. Hair a mess. "Yes you can," I said. "Watch," he said. He changed a diaper. Got peed on. Laughed. "Okay," he said. "I can." --- Day 4. Knock on the door. Mara. With lasagna. "Meal train," she said. "Sign up sheet is full." Day 5. Lila. With coffee. "I