All Chapters of The Billionaire's Reluctant Bride : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

“You’ve been pacing for twenty minutes,” I said, watching Alexander stride back and forth across the penthouse living room. His tie was already loosened, and his jacket was discarded over the back of a chair. This wasn’t like him. Alexander was always composed and always in control. But this board meeting had rattled him in a way few things could.He stopped abruptly, his grey eyes locking onto mine. “This isn’t just a meeting, Leila. It’s a battle. If the board loses confidence in me, everything falls apart.”“You’ve faced worse,” I said, standing and crossing the room to him. “You’ll walk in there and remind them why you’re the only person who can lead Steele Industries.”He let out a low, humourless laugh, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not that simple. Damien and Cassandra planted enough doubt to make some of them waver. And now they’re questioning my judgment, my ability to lead.”“Then you show them the truth,” I said firmly. “You show them who you are, Alexander. You do

“Perception is everything,” I said, pacing the conference room as Alexander leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, watching me. “We can’t just rebuild Steele Industries from the inside. We need the world to see the company for what it truly is—a force for good.”“Sounds like a PR move,” Richard Laughton said, his tone sceptical as always. The senior board member leaned forward, his piercing gaze fixed on me. “How do you plan to make this more than just another publicity stunt?”“It’s not PR,” I replied firmly, meeting his gaze without flinching. “It’s about creating tangible, visible change. Steele Industries doesn’t just recover from challenges—we rise above them. And this time, we’ll take the community with us.”The room fell silent, all eyes on me as I outlined the project. The idea was ambitious: a multi-million-dollar initiative focusing on community redevelopment, education, and sustainable innovation. It wasn’t just about repairing the company’s reputation; it was about provin

I stared at the glittering skyline from the penthouse balcony, the city buzzing below with an energy that never seemed to sleep. It should have felt exhilarating. Instead, I felt like an imposter.“You’ve been quiet,” Alexander said, stepping outside with two glasses of wine. His presence, always so steady, should have grounded me, but tonight it only made the knot in my chest tighten.I accepted the glass, avoiding his gaze. “Just thinking.”“Dangerous pastime,” he teased, sitting beside me. But when I didn’t respond, his teasing tone shifted to concern. “Leila, what’s going on?”For a moment, I considered brushing it off. But the weight of my insecurities, the unspoken doubts that had been festering for months, refused to stay buried.“I don’t belong here,” I said finally, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.Alexander frowned, his glass hovering midair. “What are you talking about?”“This,” I said, gesturing to the sprawling cityscape, the penthouse, the life we’d built

“Leila Steele,” a smooth, deep voice said as I turned around at the edge of the gala’s bustling crowd. The man before me was impeccably dressed, his tailored suit sharp enough to cut glass. His confident smile exuded power and familiarity, though I couldn’t quite place him.“Yes?” I replied cautiously, gripping my champagne flute tighter.He extended a hand. “Elliot Harrington. A private investor with an eye for potential—and a knack for spotting it in others.”I hesitated, glancing around the room to see if Alexander was nearby. He wasn’t. I shook his hand, keeping my expression neutral. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Harrington. What can I do for you?”“It’s not what you can do for me,” he said with a charming smile. “It’s what I can do for you. I’ve been following Steele Industries closely—your recent initiatives, your leadership, your vision. It’s all very… compelling.”Compelling? That word hung in the air, unsettling. “I appreciate the interest,” I said, keeping my tone polite. “But Ste

“I don’t like the way this feels,” Alexander said, his voice low and clipped as he stared at the laptop screen in front of him. His sharp, gray eyes darkened with frustration, and his knuckles whitened as he gripped the edge of his desk.I leaned over his shoulder, my heart sinking as I read the email thread he had pulled up. It was brief, almost innocuous on the surface, but the implications beneath it were chilling. The messages were between a key investor—Jonathan Grayson—and an untraceable account we’d now confirmed belonged to Cassandra.“What do we know?” I asked, my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside me.Alexander clicked through a few more documents, his jaw tightening. “Grayson’s been receiving instructions for months. She’s been feeding him information, influencing his decisions, and, from the looks of it, trying to turn him against Steele Industries.”I sank into the chair across from him, my mind racing. “Why now? Why would she go after an investor this late in