Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Alpha Billionaire's Secrets: Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

Hours later, I’m driving aimlessly, the city blurring around me. My office is a fucking prison, every surface reeks of her scent, every breath reminds me of how close she was. The hours between then and now have been a blur of pacing, futile attempts at focus, and the slow, gnawing realisation that tonight’s meeting might not just be another mundane gathering of egos.The car’s clock reads 11:50. I’m five minutes out. I cut the wheel sharply, taking the left turn toward The Noctis Assembly. The council chambers lie nestled in the city’s oldest district, buried among crumbling stone facades and ivy-choked archways. The entrance is hidden, a secret woven into the fabric of reality itself. Humans pass it every day without a second glance, their eyes sliding off it like water over glass. Wards. Ancient, intricate magic designed to bend light, thought, and memory. To the unworthy, it’s nothing but a forgotten

Destiny. The word lodges itself in my chest like a blade. A fire stokes low in my gut, an instinct I’ve fought to suppress igniting.Adriel snorts, his pale fingers tapping against the table.“Destiny. What a delightful bedtime story. Perhaps the stars will tell us where to send the cleaning crews next?” His tone drips with derision, but there’s unease in his crimson eyes.Eris’s voice slices through his mockery.“Mock it all you want, Adriel, but Lyra’s warnings have never been wrong. Ignoring her would be foolish. Even for you.”The quiet that follows her words is suffocating with implication. Lyra’s expression remains serene, but the tension in the room is palpable.I lean forward, planting my hands on the table.“Whatever t

Emma whistles when she sees me, her grin wide enough to split her face.“Damn, girl. You look hot. I LOVE the ink.”“Thanks, Emma,” I reply, grinning back. “You look amazing as always.”And she really does. Emma is so pretty it’s almost offensive. At 5’11, she towers over me like some kind of ethereal goddess, and she keeps joking she’s going to carry all 5’2 of me around in her pocket. Somehow, she makes it sound endearing rather than patronising. Her sharp bob, sleek and immaculate, would look severe on anyone else, but on her? Perfection. It frames her sculpted cheekbones and elegantly arched brows like a portrait, and that blood-red lipstick she wears is basically a weapon.Against her flawless porcelain skin, it’s bold enough to stop traffic. Everything about Emma screams confidence and grace, even as she leans against the bar, laughing at Ethan. Graceful, magnetic, utterly untouchable. She’s the person who walks into a room and turns every head.I feel like a dumpy milkmaid next

Her voice crack is loud enough to cut through the fog trying to pull me under.The stream of questions is frantic now, none I can answer, reassurances I can't hold on to. I try to focus on her voice, let it tether me, but the words slip through my grasp like water.There's a soft hum, a song I don't know, and I realise she's singing, badly, but it helps. It keeps me anchored just enough to stay conscious, though the pull of sleep is an unforgiving current, dragging me deeper into the haze.How long have I been here? Seconds? Hours? The world feels like it's narrowing, tunnelling into nothingness.The bathroom door slams open so hard the sound ricochets off the tiles, rattling in my skull like a gunshot. The entire room trembles, and the vibration snaps me back from the brink.My heart lurches painfully, the adrenaline jarring me into awareness.Emma yelps, the sound sharp and startled, followed by a splash and a flurry of curses from the stall next to mine. The air shifts suddenly, th

His home.The words echo in my head. Wait, I asked him last night where we were going, and he said home. I thought he meant MY home. My brain is cotton wool, memories from last night fragmented and slippery, impossible to hold on to. What was the last thing I remember?No.I did not tell this man I wanted his hand around my throat like a goddamn necklace.I did. I said that.I clutch the sheet tighter, shielding me from the weight of Thorne's gaze. He hasn't moved from his chair, still perched like some ancient predator, hands resting on his knees now, fingers tapping an infuriating rhythm against the fabric of his cargo pants.Oh God, is he thinking about it? Why, Maci? Why would you say that?"What do you remember?" His voice is softer than I expect, but there's something under it, simmering. Concern? Anger? I can't tell.I shake my head, instant regret as the room moves. My thoughts are in chaos, my stomach churning as I try