The Twin's Secret: A Billionaire's Tempting Proposal のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 101 - チャプター 110

Oliver's POV The gentle hum of the AC was the only sound accompanying me in the vast glass-walled office as I scrolled through reports. The numbers glared back at me, the columns and figures neatly aligned but offering no real comfort. Work used to be my safe haven. A place where logic ruled and nothing surprised me. But lately, even this fortress had been cracking under the weight of secrets.My phone buzzed.I glanced down and saw her name.Daphne The lie settled heavily on my chest again, but I reminded myself it wasn’t her fault. She had stepped into a role for the sake of the twins. For me. For our shared illusion of survival.I picked up quickly.“Oliver,” she said, her voice a little breathless and shaken.“Daphne? What’s wrong?” I pushed my chair back, already standing. Something about her tone set off alarm bells in my head.“I just came from the boardroom meeting… and Christine, she—she did something strange. I think she’s starting to suspect.” Her voice cracked slightly,

Daphne's POV I had barely changed out of my work clothes when Oliver arrived at the penthouse. He walked in with the same energy he always carried—confident, precise, and in control. But when his eyes met mine, I saw something gentler there. Concern.He didn’t say anything at first. He just walked over and pulled me into a hug.“I hate this,” I whispered into his chest. “I hate lying. I hate pretending. And Christine—God, Oliver, she knows something. I can feel it. Her attitude towards me recently has been different. She acts and speaks like she knows something. From the way she even looks at me, I can't stand it anymore. She wants to expose me...I can feel it and I'm so scared!"“I know,” he said softly, wrapping his arms more tightly around me. “She called for that meeting to test the waters. To throw you off. She wanted to see if you'd slip.”I pulled away to look at him. “Did I?”“No.” He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “You held your ground. You didn’t give anything away

Christine's POV The sun was barely up, but I’d already been wide awake for hours, watching the ceiling of my bedroom with a glass of red wine untouched beside me. I didn't need caffeine this morning—anticipation was its own drug. Today was the day the stage would begin to shift, and the final pieces of my plan would fall into place.The meeting was set for ten. By nine, I was already dressed and walking into the building like I owned it. In many ways, I did. My heels clicked against the polished floors of the Sapphire Arts Foundation, each step echoing with purpose. My assistant tried to ask if I wanted coffee, but I waved her off. I wasn’t here to sip cappuccino and chat—I was here to win.Inside the conference room, the air was different. Tense. The board members, dressed in suits and smug grins, began to trickle in one after the other. I greeted each of them warmly—especially the ten who had accepted my "generosity." Some with stiff nods, others with quick handshakes, but I notice

Daphne's POV The living room was bathed in soft amber light from the chandelier above, casting gentle shadows on the cream walls and deep velvet drapes. The atmosphere should have been peaceful—warm even. But I couldn’t relax. Not with the way my heart was still rattling inside my chest like a prisoner begging for mercy.The board had spoken. The vote was final. I had to dance.I sat curled into the corner of the couch, knees hugged tightly to my chest, a throw blanket draped loosely around my shoulders even though the room wasn’t cold. The weight of the decision pressed heavily on me. I could feel it in my bones, in my stomach, in the tight coil of panic that hadn’t unknotted since morning.Brittany sat opposite me, legs crossed, her chin resting on her palm. She looked thoughtful, her brows drawn in concern but her lips set with determination.Jade paced the length of the room like she was calculating a war strategy. Her heels clacked softly against the polished floor, echoing like

Daphne's POV It had been nearly two weeks since my intense training began. My days blurred between the rhythmic thud of pointe shoes and the ache of overstretched muscles. I was slowly transforming—shedding my old skin, and building a new one molded in discipline, focus, and pain. Every morning, I’d wake up to the soreness in my calves, the stiffness in my spine, and the persistent sting in my toes. Yet, I pushed forward, because I had no other choice.My two ballet teachers, Anton and Camille, had taken over my world. They had both trained in the most prestigious ballet schools in Europe, and it showed in every movement they made.The once unused library room in the mansion had undergone a complete transformation. It was now my sacred battleground, the place where I was supposed to become her…Daisy, the prima ballerina.But beneath the graceful arches and pirouettes, something in me was unraveling.It was a Friday afternoon, and we had just begun a session focused on jumps—grand jet