Librairie
Rechercher
Accueil / Romance / Protecting the Billionaire’s Daughter / The Ruin and the Spark

Share

The Ruin and the Spark

Auteur: Lara Hills
last update Dernière mise à jour: 2026-01-21 17:39:19

Aria's POV

The silence of the house was a gift I hadn't expected to receive. For an entire week, the driveway stayed empty of Damon’s SUV. He was next door, playing the role of the devoted caretaker, the hero in Brenda's unfolding drama. I knew exactly where he was—the neighborhood was too small for secrets, and the sight of his car parked outside her gate every morning and every night was a constant, dull hum in the background of my life.

But for the first t
Continuez à lire ce livre gratuitement
Scanner le code pour télécharger l'application
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Chapitre verrouillé

Latest chapter

  • Protecting the Billionaire’s Daughter   The Playgroup Coup

    Aria’s POVThe fluorescent lights of the 24-hour Super-Mart hummed with a depressing, low-frequency buzz that matched the state of my nerves. It was 11:14 PM. Damon was still "at the office"—though after my trip to 5th Avenue, I knew that was a flexible term—and the twins had finally succumbed to a bout of teething-induced exhaustion.I was standing in Aisle 4, staring at a box of Glitter-Puffs.They were neon pink, coated in a crystalline sugar that looked like it could power a small city, and featured a cartoon unicorn that looked high on its own supply. In the world of Oakwood Estates, this box was a war crime. We were a neighborhood of sprouted grains, kale-infused smoothies, and "ancient grain" puffs that tasted like lightly seasoned drywall.But Lyra hadn't eaten a solid meal in two days, and Elara was currently only accepting foods that were "vibrant pink." I was tired. I was being stalked

  • Protecting the Billionaire’s Daughter   The View from the 5th

    Aria’s POVThe morning after a revelation is always the hardest. The sun rises with a cheerful, suburban indifference, casting long, golden fingers across the breakfast nook as if the world hasn't fundamentally shifted on its axis.Damon was his usual self—efficient, affectionate, and utterly opaque. He kissed me goodbye, lingering a second longer than usual, his eyes searching mine for a flicker of the suspicion I was working so hard to bury. He made silly faces at Elara until she giggled, and he promised Lyra he’d bring home the specific brand of organic blueberries she liked."You okay, Ari?" he asked, his hand on the doorknob. "You look like you didn't sleep.""Just thinking about the party," I lied, the words tasting like ash. "Margot coming was a bit of a shock.""Don't let the neighborhood get under your skin," he said, flashing that brilliant, confident smile that had once been

  • Protecting the Billionaire’s Daughter   The Birthday Snub

    Aria’s POVThe silence of a neighborhood group chat is a specific kind of violence.I sat at the kitchen island, the marble countertop cool against my forearms, staring at my phone until the screen timed out. I tapped it awake again. The blue bubbles of my sent messages—bright, hopeful, and containing a digital flyer with two watercolor elephants—remained suspended in a vacuum.“Lyra and Elara are turning Two! Join us for a ‘Two-Wild’ Safari Brunch this Sunday at 10:00 AM. 🎈🦁”Delivered. Read by Sarah at 9:14 AM. Read by Chloe at 9:16 AM. Read by Bianca, the undisputed architect of the cul-de-sac’s social hierarchy, at 9:20 AM.It was now 2:45 PM.In the living room, the twins were engaged in a high-stakes negotiation over a single, slightly chewed-on wooden block. Lyra, the firebrand, had her hand firmly clamped on one side, her brow furrowed

  • Protecting the Billionaire’s Daughter   The Sunday Service

    Aria's POVThe three days following the clinic were a descent into a kind of silence I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. Our house, once a place of celebration and new beginnings, felt like it was holding its breath. Noah hadn't eaten. He hadn't showered. He just sat in the guest room, staring at the wall, a hollowed-out version of the vibrant guy who had arrived two weeks ago.Next door, the Pastor’s house was a tomb of high-gloss brick. We saw the "private nurse" arrive and leave. We saw Timon leave for his mid-week Bible study, his head held high, waving to neighbors as if he hadn't just orchestrated a kidnapping and a forced procedure.I felt a cold, sharp rage every time I saw his silhouette through the window. It wasn't just anger; it was a fundamental shift in my soul. I had spent my life trying to be "good," trying to be the person who took the high road. But as I watched Noah wither away, I realized the high ro

  • Protecting the Billionaire’s Daughter   The Judas Kiss

    Aria's POVThe silence that followed Lynn’s announcement didn't last. It shattered."Abortion."The word didn't come from Noah, and it didn't come from me. It came from Timon. He said it with the same clinical, detached tone he used to quote scripture during a lukewarm sermon. He sat back, his hands folded over his knee, his eyes as cold as two stones at the bottom of a well."Timon!" I gasped, the air leaving my lungs. "You cannot be serious. You’re a man of God.""I am a man of my legacy," Timon countered, his voice rising, gaining that rhythmic, booming quality that usually held hundreds of people in thrall. "I am the shepherd of this community. Do you have any idea what this does? A bastard child? Born to the Pastor’s 'pure' daughter and a... a drifter with no name? This is not a child, Aria. This is a weapon. A weapon that will be used to dismantle thirty years of ministry."

  • Protecting the Billionaire’s Daughter   Noah in Trouble

    The air in our living room was so thick with tension I felt like I was breathing through a wet blanket. Noah sat on the edge of the velvet armchair, his face buried in his hands, his body vibrating with a frantic, restless energy. Beside him, Lynn looked like a porcelain doll that had been shattered and glued back together too many times. Her backpack—the one containing her entire life and those three life-altering strips of plastic—sat at her feet like a ticking bomb.I stood by the window, my eyes scanning the dark driveway next door. The Pastor’s house was a silent silhouette against the moon, oblivious to the fact that its foundation had just turned to dust.Then, I heard the heavy, familiar tread of Damon’s boots on the hardwood.My heart hammered against my ribs. Damon had been the rock I clung to through every storm of the last year. We had finally reached the shore. We had finally found peace.

Plus de chapitres

Vous vous intéresseriez aussi à

Découvrez et lisez de bons romans gratuitement
Accédez gratuitement à un grand nombre de bons romans sur GoodNovel. Téléchargez les livres que vous aimez et lisez où et quand vous voulez.
Lisez des livres gratuitement sur l'APP
Scanner le code pour lire sur l'application
DMCA.com Protection Status