The Billionaire’s Fight For Redemption (Noah and Sierra) novel Chapter 243

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Lilly is already in my room when I step out of the bathroom, steam still clinging to my skin.

She’s perched on the edge of my bed in a red silk dress, legs crossed, phone in one hand and a flute of champagne in the other, scrolling through emails like she isn’t about to attend one of the most exclusive charity galas in Paris.

“You took forever,” she says without looking up.

“I’m pregnant,” I reply dryly. “My bladder and I are no longer on speaking terms.”

She snorts, finally glancing up. “Excuses. You just like being dramatic.”

I roll my eyes and move toward the wardrobe. The dress hangs there, simple but elegant—deep emerald, fitted at the bust, flowing gently over my stomach. It’s not meant to hide the pregnancy, but it doesn’t scream it either.

I slip it on, smoothing the fabric over my hips.

Lilly’s gaze softens when she looks at me. “You look beautiful.”

“Don’t start, or I’ll cry and ruin my makeup.” I mutter, reaching for my heels.

She stands and comes over, fixing the strap of my dress with practiced ease. “You deserve to feel beautiful. Especially tonight… you’re going to leave Noah speechless.”

I meet her eyes in the mirror. “That’s not my plan.”

I know the chances of him not being there are small, but honestly, I’d be super grateful if he wasn’t’.

She grins. “It doesn’t matter because either way, you’ll leave Noah and every man there speechless.”

Before I can say anything, there is a knock at the door.

Lilly’s smile turns knowing. “Showtime.”

The gala is everything you’d expect. Opulent, polished, drowning in money and influence.

Crystal chandeliers hang like frozen stars above the room. Soft classical music plays beneath the hum of conversation. Everyone looks effortless in that curated way only the wealthy ever manage.

Champagne is pressed into our hands the moment we step inside.

I’ve never been one for these kinds of events. Even when Aunt Harper or our other Aunts invited us, I’d always find an excuse not to attend. Honestly, I’d rather have a barbeque get-together at one of their houses than attend one of these things.

Lilly moves effortlessly, though. Gliding through the room, introducing me to people whose names I’ll barely remember, and filling me in on who is who.

Eventually though, she’s intercepted by a group of men and women in tailored suits and designer gowns. People who want to talk business and make deals with her.

She squeezes my hand before letting go. “Don’t disappear. I’ll find you.”

“Don’t worry about me. Go do your thing. I’ll be okay,” I say.

She nods and is gone seconds later, already deep in conversation.

I stand there for a moment, suddenly aware of how alone I am. I’m not sure what to do at first, but then I move, because that’s better than standing in the middle of the room.