Semua Bab IT'S A JOB, NOT A RELATIONSHIP, MR. BILLIONAIRE : Bab 81 - Bab 85

DAMIAN'S POV The event was a grand display of wealth and power—just the way I liked it. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a warm glow over the room filled with New York’s most influential businessmen, politicians, and socialites. Waiters dressed in black moved smoothly through the crowd, offering glasses of champagne on silver trays.I walked through the hall with my usual composed confidence, acknowledging familiar faces with nods and brief smiles. It was the same routine—handshakes, fake smiles, subtle power plays woven into casual conversation. These events were a necessary evil, a way to keep my business untouchable in the eyes of the public.But tonight was different.Because tonight, Isla was with me.She stood beside me, poised and elegant in a Red dress that hugged her figure in just the right way—not too revealing, but enough to draw attention. And attention she got. Men stole glances at her as we walked, their eyes lingering a little too long. It amused me.

VICTOR'S POVThe hospital felt like a prison. No, worse—it felt like a graveyard.I sat in the cold, sterile hallway, my hands gripping the edges of my chair as if letting go would send me spiraling into nothingness. The weight of everything crushed my chest. I had won the battle, but I had lost the war.My grandfather was gone.Emma had lost our baby.What kind of victory was this?I felt hollow, a walking corpse moving through the motions of arranging my grandfather’s body with the hospital staff. The doctor stood in front of me, speaking in a calm, professional tone, but his words barely registered.“We’ll need to finalize the paperwork for the body transfer, your grandfather the doctor said, his voice measured and sympathetic.I swallowed hard. “And then?” My voice was hoarse, barely recognizable even to myself.“We’ll arrange for the morgue to hold him until the funeral home takes over. Do you have any preferences for the arrangements?”Preferences? What kind of preference could

VICTOR'S POVAs I watched Damian being dragged away in cuffs, I thought I would feel something—relief, satisfaction, maybe even peace. After all, he was finally facing justice for everything he had done, for all the lives he had destroyed. But instead, I felt… nothing. There was no triumph in my heart, no sense of victory. Just an empty weight pressing down on me.I glanced at Isla, and I could tell she felt the same way. Her expression was unreadable, but the slight tension in her shoulders and the way she exhaled slowly told me she was struggling to process it all. She turned to me, her eyes filled with something unspoken, and then, without a word, she wrapped her arms around me.“At least he’s going away for a long time,” she murmured, her voice soft against my shoulder.I nodded, closing my eyes for a brief moment as I found a small measure of comfort in her embrace. Isla had been through so much—her father’s death, being manipulated by Damian, and now seeing justice finally serve