All Chapters of Renting Billionaire Boyfriend: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Soren – POVA funeral—supposedly a place for grieving, yet all I felt was an unsettling joy. Not a single tear threatened to fall. I had wanted to kill Nancy with my own hands, to savor her last breath, but someone had stolen that moment from me. When I reached her body, she was already dead, a bullet in her chest, and a gun abandoned at her side. I picked it up, my mind churning. Who had taken my vengeance from me? I knew it wasn’t Grandfather—he’d left Nancy’s fate in my hands. He trusted me to make her suffer, to break her, to force her to beg for death. Death wouldn’t have been her true punishment anyway. It was stripping her of her power and status, the things she craved most. That would’ve been her real end.I watched as Davina sobbed, with Alaric trailing behind her, feigning sympathy. Raisel stiffened beside me, her discomfort evident as Alaric’s gaze lingered on her. When I locked eyes with him, he quickly looked away, focusing instead on comforting Davina. My grandfather and

Raisel – POVI had two days off after working overtime, trying to drown out the noise in my head with busy days and sleepless nights. Nia had left after making dinner, leaving the apartment silent, the kind of silence that pulls memories out of the shadows. I poured myself a glass of wine, despite the doctor’s warnings to steer clear of alcohol and focus on meditation. Like that would silence the chaos inside me.The phone rang, an unknown number flashing on the screen. I hesitated, then answered.“Sweetheart... how are you?” The voice slithered through the receiver, reeking of arrogance.I scoffed. “What the fuck do you want, Alaric?” My voice was venom, dripping with all the hatred I could summon.“You looked hot in that black dress... why didn’t you wear shit like that when we were together?” he slurred, his words laced with drunken lust.“Fuck off. Don’t call me again, or you’ll regret it.” I hung up before he could respond, but the calls kept coming, one after the other, each mor

Soren – POVBefore Raisel Wakes Up and Finds Soren’s SecertsSoren’s POVI couldn’t sleep. My mind was racing, but not with nightmares or restless thoughts. Raisel was here—sleeping in my arms, her body pressed against mine, warm and soft. It was surreal. I had to pinch myself to believe this wasn’t just a dream. She was right here. I brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, revealing her delicate features as she slept peacefully. Her skin, pale and flawless, was marked by love bites—my marks, claiming her as mine.But it wasn’t the physical closeness that made me feel this overwhelming sense of happiness. It wasn’t about the intimacy we shared last night. It was because she trusted me, allowed me into her world—not just emotionally but physically as well. I felt a sense of fulfillment I hadn’t experienced before. I was never one for cuddling, never the type to let a woman spend the night. I usually had them sent home with my driver, their addresses forgotten as soon as the door

Raisel – POVWork was a nightmare. I never knew hiring could be such a pain in the ass. Talking to people all day? Not my thing. And to top it off, I had gone the whole morning without a coffee, leaving me on edge until the afternoon when I finally managed to grab one. Hazel texted me, asking to meet at Zero Bond—a place that promised some privacy. Even though the paparazzi had backed off since Soren intervened, Hazel and I still needed the assurance of a quiet spot. She didn’t want to be seen in New York.I rushed home to change, slipping into a sleek midi dress, classic pumps, and a tailored blazer for a polished look. I kept it simple—just a delicate necklace and a stylish clutch. Hazel had sent a car, and soon, I arrived at Zero Bond. I found her there, furiously texting someone, her face tense. But when she saw me, her expression softened, and I felt the same relief. It had only been three weeks without her, but it felt like an eternity. We hugged tightly.“So happy to see you,”

Raisel’s POVI waited, impatiently, as Mr. Beau and the man at the laptop—Jace, I think his name was—spoke in hushed tones. The name Jace felt familiar, like a half-remembered shadow flitting through my mind, but I couldn’t quite place it. Their conversation lingered in the background as I drifted, restlessly pacing the edges of the estate, the guard trailing me like a silent, watchful shadow. Maybe he was there to guide me, or maybe he was there to keep me from wandering into places I wasn’t supposed to see.And then, I saw it—the room lined with photographs, a corridor of memories preserved in silver frames. This must be Mr. Beau’s own hall of ghosts. Among the faded images, my gaze settled on a wedding photo—a beautiful woman, his wife, her smile caught in time. Then I saw it: a family picture. Soren, his mother, his father… and then, in another frame, his mother alone, her face pale with the exhaustion of pregnancy. The father was missing, absent from these intimate moments, a sha