Lahat ng Kabanata ng Contracted To The Col-Hearted Bilionaire: Kabanata 71 - Kabanata 80

Dante’s POV The flowers sat on the passenger seat like the beautiful tool I was going to use to get Clarissa’s forgiveness. I glanced at them again as I drove, my fingers tightening slightly on the steering wheel. They weren’t her favorites.Clarissa loved white camellias. She once told me they made her feel calm but the florist didn’t have any. They had roses, Lilies, Orchids and poppies. Too many poppies.I remembered instantly why I couldn’t buy them. Clarissa was allergic. Not mildly, it was severe. Even the presence of poppy seeds could trigger her breathing. I still remembered the night she collapsed in my arms, her fingers clutching my shirt as she struggled to breathe, her eyes wide with fear she couldn’t voice. I had never forgotten that. So I bought the safest option they had left. White roses.I pulled into her driveway, the headlights washing over the familiar walls of her house. It looked the same as always. I killed the engine and sat there for a moment, staring at he

Chelsea's POV Earlier that day, he had been calm. Distant, maybe but controlled. I remembered the way he had checked his watch and said he needed to go see Clarissa. I smiled and told him it was fine. I had even teased him about not keeping her waiting. But it hadn’t been fine. I felt that small, stupid ache in my chest as he walked out the door. The reminder that no matter how much time he spent with me, I was never the one he chose first and now he was here. It was past midnight and he was with flowers.I walked back toward the kitchen slowly, my heart racing harder with every step. When I entered, I saw him standing in front of my open fridge, staring inside like he’d lost something important.“What are you looking for?” I asked carefully.He didn’t turn around. “Something to drink.”I crossed my arms, trying to keep my voice steady. “I told you, I don’t have alcohol.”

Dante's POV The first thing I felt was the headache. It throbbed behind my eyes like someone was tapping a hammer against my skull from the inside. I groaned softly and squeezed my eyes shut, hoping the darkness would make it go away. It didn’t. If anything, the pain only sharpened when I tried to move.I forced my eyes open. The ceiling above me was unfamiliar smooth white with a long crack running across it like a scar. I stared at it for a moment, my mind slow and foggy, trying to understand why it felt wrong.This wasn’t my ceiling. A jolt of panic ran through me and I pushed myself up too quickly. The room spun violently, and I grabbed the edge of the bed before I could fall back down.“Easy… easy…” I muttered to myself.That’s when I noticed something worse.I was half dressed.My shirt hung open, one arm in the sleeve and the other still out. My belt was undone and my shoes were on the floor beside the bed like they’d been kicked off in a hurry.My heart started racing.“Where

Clarissa’s POV I woke with a headache, the morning light filtering through the curtains felt too bright, too sharp, like it was mocking my sleepless night. I had barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, the same images clawed their way back into my mind.Chelsea’s smug face on the phone screen. Dante behind her. Half dressed and drunk.I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling, my jaw tightening. I wished I could erase that moment from my memory, but it replayed with cruel clarity.The FaceTime call had come around two in the morning. At first I thought it was Dante calling to apologize. My  heart had jumped when his name flashed on the screen. But the second I answered, Chelsea’s face appeared instead.Chelsea had been smiling. Not a friendly smile either, one of those sharp, poisonous smiles that carried meaning beneath the surface.“Oops,” Chelsea had said sweetly. “Did I wake you

Dante's POV I had barely stepped into the house when my phone buzzed again. It was Reed. The third call from him that morning. The day had already been long and complicated, and the last thing I wanted was another mystery layered on top of it. Still, Reed wasn't the type to call repeatedly unless something serious was happening.Before I could decide whether to answer or not, a message popped up right after the missed call.“Pick up. There is something urgent.”My stomach tightened. Reed wasn't dramatic. If he said something was urgent, then it probably was. I immediately tapped his number and lifted the phone to my ear. It rang once. Then twice.Before the third ring finished, Reed picked up."Dante, where the hell have you been?" he demanded. His voice came out sharp, almost accusing.I frowned and leaned against the wall, staring at the empty living room."It's a long story," I said, exhaling slowly. "Trust