The Billionaire's Dangerous Redemption (by Claire Winters) novel Chapter 86

86 The Morning After Revelation

The merciless morning sun streamed through the curtains I’d forgotten to close last night. My head pounded as if someone was using it for drum practice I groaned and buried iny face deeper into the pillow, trying to escape both the light and

consciousIESS

What happened last night?

My memory was a foggy mess of scattered images. The birthday celebration at Vera’s. too many cocktails. Sebastian Sinclair’s face hovering above mine. Wait, Sebastian?

bolted upright, immediately regretting the sudden movement as pain exploded behind my eyes. Had Sebastian really been here? Or was that just another vivid dream?

No, that couldn’t be real. I’d probably just dreamed about him again. My foggy brain must have conjured his image during my drunken stupor

The buzzing of my phone interrupted my confused thoughts. I fumbled around the bedside table and squinted at the screen. Six missed calls from my father, three from Cherry, and a dozen text notifications. What time was ur?

10:37 AM. Shit!

I swiped to call Cherry back, pressing the phone to my ear while massaging my throbbing temple

“Miss Shaw! Finally!” Cherry’s voice was unnecessarily chipper for my current state. I’ve been trying to reach you all morning!”

“Sorry I croaked, my throat desert-dry What’s going on

“The board meeting! Your father called three times. They were supposed to formalize your control of the company today remember? He sounded pretty upset that you didn’t show

The board meeting. The critical meeting where I was supposed to officially take over as CEO The meeting I’d been working toward for months

What time was it scheduled?” asked, already knowing the answer

Nine o’clock Mr Shaw rescheduled for tomorrow morning, but he wasn’t happy abou

11

I closed my eyes in mortification Thanks, Cherry I’ll call him back soon

After hanging up, I scrolled through my notifications. Most were from the group chat with Vera and our friends. With growing horror, I opened a video someone had taken.

There I was standing on a table at Vera’s restaurant microphone in hand, betting out what appeared to be a horribly off-key rendition of “I Will Survive The camera paused to show the amused faces of other patrons. then back to me as I dramatically pointed to an empty chair, shouting. This one’s for you, Alistair, you lying piece of -“before Vera tactfully cut the microphone

Lexited the video, my cheeks burning. Another thumbnail showed me attempting to demonstrate what I claimed was “advanced yoga” but looked more like a drunk person trying not to fall over couldn’t bring myself to watch it

How had I let myself get so out of control? I never drank that much. But between the insomnia I’d been battling and the stress of the company transition, I’d clearly reached a breaking point.

With a deep breath. I dragged myself to the bathroom Che face in the mirror looked predictably terrible-mascara smudged under my eyes, hair a tangled mess skin pale and drawn. I stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away at least some of my shame.

As the steam cleared my head, fragmented memories from the night before started to return. Vera pouring shots. Some guy buying our table drinks. Me crying in the bathroom about everything I’d lost this year.

And Sebastian. Sebastian’s concerned eyes looking down at me. His voice, low and steady. His hand supporting me as I stumbled

Had he really been there? The line between reality and imagination blurred in my hangover haze

Eremembered his scent-sandalwood and something uniquely him. The feeling of his arm around my waist as he helped me somewhere. But then what? I concentrated harder, but the rest remained frustratingly blank

After arying off and putting on a robe, I shuffled toward the kitchen in search of’s offer and aspirin. My apartment was surprisingly tidy Hadmi I kicked off my shoes in the

ying was in order, no clothing strewn about

Weird

I reached for a glass, desperate for water to soothe my parched throat That’s when I saw it – a folded piece of paper on the kitchen counter. My heart thudded against my ribs as I picked it up with trembling fingers

The handwriting was elegant and masculine:

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