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Chapter 62: The PR Campaign
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2026-01-01 17:26:27
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Runaway Heiress: The Billionaire’s Forgotten Bride Chapter 93: The Apology
The morning after Vanessa’s arrest, the sky over New York was a bruised, delicate purple. The storm had broken, leaving the air sharp and clean, but the city still felt like it was recovering from a fever.Aurora stood in the center of her atelier.It was 7 AM. The doors were locked. The staff hadn't arrived yet.The space was silent, but it wasn't empty.The midnight-blue velvet gown—the "Reconciliation"—stood on its form in the center of the room. It was untouched. Perfect. A storm cloud captured in silk and tulle.Aurora walked around it, her fingers trailing in the air, not quite touching the fabric.She had saved it. But she felt... heavy.The adrenaline of the chase, the terror of the sabotage, the rage at Vanessa... it had all burned off, leaving behind a cold, hollow ache.She had won the battle. But the war inside her was still raging.He didn't do it.The realization was a stone in her shoe. Liam hadn't sent Sophie. He hadn't tried to destroy her work. He had hunted Vanessa
Runaway Heiress: The Billionaire’s Forgotten Bride Chapter 92: Vanessa's Firing
The lights of the Cross Empire tower blazed through the rain, but inside, the atmosphere was cold enough to crack stone.It was 3 AM. The building was on lockdown. The only sound was the hum of the servers being methodically scrubbed by the forensic IT team.Liam Cross sat behind his massive mahogany desk. He was still wearing the clothes he had worn to hunt Vanessa—dark jeans, a t-shirt, a jacket damp with the river fog. He hadn't changed. He hadn't slept.He was waiting.The door opened.Graves walked in. He was holding a tablet."We found the rest," Graves said, his voice low. "The backups she hid on the legacy server. The 'insurance' files.""Show me," Liam said.Graves placed the tablet on the desk.Liam swiped through the files. It was a catalogue of petty treasons. Stolen client lists. Leaked designs. Drafts of emails to gossip columnists detailing his "coldness," his "cruelty."And then, there was a folder labeled simply: AURORA.He opened it.It was worse than the map.It was
Runaway Heiress: The Billionaire’s Forgotten Bride Chapter 91: The Culprit
The rain had stopped, but the air in the small apartment in Queens was heavy with the smell of damp plaster and impending disaster.Liam Cross stood in the center of the room, the laptop open on the table, the map of his son's life taped to the wall. The word BURN was scrawled in red marker next to the location of the IFA Awards.He had found the ghost. He had found the proof.But he hadn't found Vanessa."Mr. Cross," Graves said, stepping into the room, his face grim. "We have a trace on her phone. It just pinged.""Where?" Liam demanded."She's moving," Graves said. "Fast. She's heading toward the West Side Highway.""The Intrepid," Liam realized. The venue for the awards was an aircraft carrier docked on the Hudson. "She's going there now.""The event isn't until tomorrow," Graves said."She's planting something," Liam said, the cold certainty settling in his gut. "Or she's casing it. Either way, we have to stop her."He walked out of the apartment, leaving the map, the laptop, the
Runaway Heiress: The Billionaire’s Forgotten Bride Chapter 90: Liam's Innocence
The "lady in red" was a ghost. A phantom who had moved through the locked doors and secure servers of Cross Empire for five years, unseen and unchecked.But tonight, Liam Cross was hunting her.He sat in his office, the lights off, the city below a grid of rain-swept indifference. It was 4 AM. He hadn't slept since Aurora’s call.The lady in red. Vanessa.The accusation burned in his chest. Is she? Because she seems very active on your behalf, Liam.Aurora thought he knew. She thought he was complicit. She thought he was the kind of man who would hire a terrified assistant to throw paint thinner on a dress because he was afraid of losing a competition.That thought—that she still saw him as a monster—was more painful than the sabotage itself.He looked at his computer screen. He had bypassed his own security team. He had bypassed HR. He was logged into the server root, tracing the digital footprints of a ghost.Vanessa Leigh.She had been fired. Her access revoked. Her keycard deactiv
Runaway Heiress: The Billionaire’s Forgotten Bride Chapter 89: Sabotage Attempt
The final piece for the International Fashion Awards was a secret.It hung in the back of the AVA atelier, shrouded in black muslin, guarded by the two elderly seamstresses, Yvette and Marie, who treated it with the reverence of a holy relic.It was the "Reconciliation" gown. The midnight blue velvet storm cloud Aurora had been stitching when Liam had walked in at 3 AM.It was finished.It was 10 PM on the night before the submission deadline. The atelier was quiet, the frantic energy of the last few weeks settling into a tense, exhausted hum.Aurora stood in her office, reviewing the final logistics with Elias."The courier is scheduled for 8 AM," Elias said, checking his watch. "The security team will escort the crate to the IFA headquarters.""Good," Aurora said. She was running on fumes, her eyes gritty, her body aching. But she felt... light.She had done it. She had faced Liam. She had faced the competition. And she had created something that wasn't just armor. It was art."Go h
Runaway Heiress: The Billionaire’s Forgotten Bride Chapter 88: The Fashion Competition
The air inside the Maison AVA headquarters was no longer the cold, sterile vacuum of a showroom. It was the superheated, electric atmosphere of a war room.One month had passed since the "truce" in the Adirondacks.Aurora sat at the head of the long, concrete conference table, her "wolf" suit—the charcoal one—buttoned tight. Her team was gathered around her: Elias, looking sharp but tired; Sophia, who had been "forgiven" but was still on a tight leash of professional distance; and her new head of production, a woman she had poached from Chanel.On the screen at the end of the room was the logo of the International Fashion Awards.The IFA.It was the Oscars of the fashion world. The single most prestigious, global platform for design. Winning meant immortality. It meant contracts, distribution, and a legacy that couldn't be erased by a tabloid scandal.And this year, the theme was "Duality.""It is fate," Elias murmured, tapping his cane on the floor. "Or irony. The theme is tailor-mad
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