All Chapters of Your Lips to Mine #4: The Billionaire's Heartbeat: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

The first time I saw her, it was like stepping into someone else’s memory. Claire was everything I’d imagined James’s ex-fiancée would be: poised, polished, and impossibly beautiful. She walked into his office as if she owned the air around her, her confidence filling every corner of the room. I had come to surprise James with lunch, carrying a bag from his favorite deli, when I saw her standing by his desk. Her laugh was light and familiar, the kind that felt practiced but intimate. “James,” she said, her voice lilting with nostalgia, “it’s been too long.” I froze just outside the doorway, unsure whether to interrupt or retreat. James hadn’t noticed me yet, but I could see the flicker of surprise—and something else—on his face as he responded. “Claire,” he said, standing. “What are you doing here?” “I heard about your success,” she replied, leaning slightly closer to him. “I wanted to congratulate you in person. And, well, I thought it might be nice to catch up.” I stepped into

I was sipping my morning coffee, my laptop open on the kitchen island, when the email arrived. At first, I thought it was a routine message, another reminder to submit some overdue paperwork or an update on hospital policies. But as I skimmed the subject line—Director Position for New Research Initiative—my heart skipped a beat. The email detailed an opportunity to lead a groundbreaking medical research project focused on innovative treatment methods for chronic illnesses. The project was funded by a prestigious foundation, promising state-of-the-art facilities, a world-class team, and the chance to make a real impact in the field of medicine. I read the email twice, then a third time, just to be sure I wasn’t imagining it. --- “James!” I called, setting my coffee down with a trembling hand. He appeared in the doorway, still adjusting his tie. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing’s wrong,” I said quickly. “I just… I just got offered a position to lead a new research project.” His expressio

The tension in the conference room was thick enough to cut with a knife. The usually confident and poised James sat at the head of the long table, his expression grave as he scanned the projected quarterly report. Around him, his team sat in uneasy silence, exchanging nervous glances as the weight of the situation pressed down on everyone. The crux of the issue was a significant flaw in one of James’s flagship projects, a highly anticipated data security software that was weeks away from its launch. The discovery of the flaw had sent shockwaves through his company, leaving his team scrambling to find solutions. Investors were losing patience, competitors were circling like sharks, and the press was already speculating about potential failure. “We need options,” James said, his voice calm but firm. “Delaying the launch is a last resort. What else do we have?” The room remained silent for an uncomfortable beat before a junior engineer named Amanda hesitantly raised her hand. “We

Healing isn’t a straight road. It’s winding, uneven, and often treacherous. There are moments when you feel you’ve taken a giant leap forward, only to find yourself tumbling two steps back. But with James by my side, I was beginning to understand that it wasn’t about the setbacks—it was about finding the strength to keep moving forward. It was a crisp autumn afternoon when the weight of everything finally caught up with me. I was sitting on the couch in James's study, a cup of tea in my hands, staring out the large window at the amber and crimson leaves falling from the trees. The world outside seemed so serene, but inside me, a storm brewed. James was at his desk, typing away on his laptop. He had taken a rare day off from the office, claiming he wanted to work from home to "keep an eye on me." I knew he meant well, but I couldn’t help feeling guilty for needing him so much. “Olivia,” he called softly, breaking the silence. I turned to him, startled out of my thoughts. “Hmm?” “Y

I never thought I’d be standing in front of Derek again, facing him head-on, ready to fight for everything I held dear. But there I was, the weight of everything we’d built together pressing heavily on my shoulders, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. This wasn’t about James anymore; it was about me. About us. About the life I was choosing to fight for. The last few days had been a blur, a whirlwind of lawyers and public relations meetings, phone calls that lasted too long, and tense conversations with James, who was doing everything in his power to protect both his image and me. But behind the facade of meetings and decisions, I was fuming. Derek had crossed a line—a line I wouldn’t let him step over without consequences. I could hear the faint sound of Derek’s voice as I entered the conference room where we’d arranged to meet. It was cold, clinical—just like him. But I wasn’t going to back down this time. I wasn’t the same woman who had let him get under her skin years ago