All Chapters of The Billionaire's Submissive: Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

Tom's POV  I took a sip out of my juice and glanced up at Eve to see her cleaning her mouth with a napkin. She was done? Damn that was fast. Usually she tended to take forever when eating meals, I had complained about it a gazillion times. Now, watching her eat quickly made me feel an uncomfortable ache in my chest.   Now that I think about it, she ate her meals very quickly these days. Sometimes, when I came back home, she would have had dinner and would be up in bed napping. Was sleeping the only damned thing she knew? That was all she had done in Hawaii as well. Slept like a fucking panda every single day.   No, that wasn't right. There was that one time when I had gotten back to the resort in the evening and she wasn't in the room. I'd searched the lobby and fountain for her and she'd literally disappeared until I sent a text asking where she was.   I ha

Tom's POV The day started well enough. I had a great breakfast. A couple of meetings and by the time it was eleven, I was having a blast. Until my phone pinged with a message.   Barlow.  I didn't bother reading it because I was too damned busy to be running around doing his bidding as if I was a damned slave or something. What the hell was the pig's problem anyways? We had signed a deal together, that didn't mean he got to boss me around now, did it?   I ignored the message and continued reading through the files when barely thirty minutes later, the phone rang and of course it was Barlow.   I sighed as I stared back at the screen. Had something happened? Did the police find him? No, it couldn't be the end yet. Not yet.   After contemplating for a while, I picked the call, wincing when the bastard yelled right into

Tom's POV"Shit! Shit! Shit!" I muttered as I stormed into the study, my body trembling like a damned leaf in autumn. What the hell? What the actual hell? I could see it all over again, playing over and over in my damned mind. Barlow. The gun. The kid on the floor. The blood around him. Dammit! I let out a growl, marching towards my desk to pour the contents to the ground. My hands trembled as I shoved it all to the ground, watching the perfect set of stationeries fall to the ground. The noise was a bit comforting. It drowned the crazy sounds in my head for a while. The sounds that called me names. Murderer! Killer!"I didn't kill him," I scoffed at the voice but there was that damned tremor. That shaking of my voice as I denied what my head and heart decided to be true. "I didn't kill him, I didn't!"My words came out as a whisper. I glanced down at the blood on my shirt. I hadn't known it was there. I thought I had gotten rid of the evidence by destroying the coat. I

Adam's POV I had my head buried in a gazillion documents when the door to my office flew open. My sister stood at the entrance looking like she had won a dumbass lottery with how hard she was grinning.  A sigh escaped me as I reluctantly reclined against my chair. Anabelle's presence here could mean nothing but chaos. We hadn't had a chance to talk ever since mother's birthday party and I knew, I just knew she had a gazillion questions to ask about Eve. I had seen it in her eyes when she came calling me to attend to the ruckus mother would have created.   "To what do I owe this pleasure?" I grunted. Don't get me wrong, I was pleased to see my little sister. I was just too tired to deal with whatever shenanigans she was determined to throw my way.   "To honor?" She chuckled, the grin on her face widening as she strode into my room.   "What?" I fr

TOM’S POV“How’s the building plans coming along, Mr Erik?” Mr Erik, the architect for the mall we wanted to build with the Stone company, grunted as if I had asked him to change a baby’s diaper. “It is going well, I suppose. You and Mr Stone are literally asking for the impossible here. You want me to turn in a huge mall design in a week? It’ll be easier to ask me to give you the moon.” Unpleasant jackass, I thought, a sour taste filling my mouth. I already had a terrible night, I did not need a sour puss on my case. I gripped the phone tighter, trying not to lash out.  “You were given two weeks, Mr Erik. Giving excuses instead of results does not suit you,”  “Two weeks to turn in a building-“ “You were informed of the duration before you got the job!” I snapped, unable to reel i