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Chapter 68- Cruel twist
Last Updated:
2025-10-05 21:30:48
Latest chapter
The Billionaire’s Forgotten Bride Chapter 73- Accusations
Amelia POV The house was still when I finally made it upstairs. For a brief, fragile moment, I let myself believe I could breathe again. I changed into a loose T-shirt and curled up on the edge of the bed, my hands resting protectively over my stomach. Daniel’s face kept flashing in my mind—his wide eyes, his warm voice, that unexpected flicker of comfort in the middle of chaos.I had barely exhaled when the sound of footsteps thundered down the hallway.My head snapped toward the door. Before I could stand, it burst open with a violent bang, slamming against the wall.Maxwell stormed in like a storm that had been brewing for too long—jaw clenched, eyes blazing, his suit jacket unbuttoned as though he’d ripped it off mid-stride. His presence sucked the air right out of the room.“What the hell is wrong with you?!” he barked.My heart skipped. “Maxwell—”“You think this is funny?!” he cut me off, his voice cracking like a whip. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”I blinked rapidly
The Billionaire’s Forgotten Bride Chapter 72- We need to talk
Amelia POV The world blurred for a second. My thoughts had been circling the same drain all day—Maxwell’s visit, his accusation, the way his voice cracked when he said we should be grieving together.I had gone out for some air, hoping the quiet streets would soothe the chaos inside me. But my mind wouldn’t stop. Every memory, every mistake, every almost between Maxwell and me tangled like vines, wrapping tighter around my chest until I could hardly breathe.The late afternoon sun dipped low, casting a golden glow over the quiet lane. My feet carried me toward the small corner café I used to visit back in university. It had been years since I’d walked this route. Everything felt eerily unchanged—the chipped pavement, the faint smell of baked bread from the nearby bakery, the old streetlamp that still leaned slightly to the right.But I wasn’t really seeing any of it. My mind was replaying his words.“Why are you trying to leave me now? This isn’t over, Amelia.”I didn’t notice the lig
The Billionaire’s Forgotten Bride Chapter 71- Maxwell visit again
Amelia POVThe morning light was cruel. It spilled through the curtains like shards of gold, piercing the quiet stillness of my room. I hadn’t slept. How could I? The events of last night replayed over and over in my mind like a broken record.Maxwell had stood at my door after more than a month of silence—looking tired, looking almost human again—and for a terrifying moment, my heart had wanted to run to him. But reality had clawed its way back just as quickly, whispering reminders of his signature on those divorce papers, of the coldness that had replaced his love.I drew the shawl tighter around myself as I paced the room. My bare feet made soft sounds against the carpet, but inside, my thoughts were deafening.A month. That’s how long it had been since Maxwell had avoided every attempt at contact. No calls. No visits. Not even a formal text. It was as though he’d erased me entirely the moment his pen left the paper. We had once shared a bed, whispered secrets in the dark, planned
The Billionaire’s Forgotten Bride Chapter 70- I know
Rebecca POVTriumph tasted like fine wine—sweet, intoxicating, and long overdue.I leaned back in my chair, swirling the stem of my champagne glass as the city glittered beneath the penthouse balcony. From this height, everything looked small. Manageable. Just like Amelia.The faint hum of soft jazz filled the room, mingling with the distant sounds of traffic below. I’d just gotten off the phone with Maxwell’s lawyer—another small but satisfying confirmation that the divorce papers had been filed and processed. Clean. Efficient. Final.A slow smile spread across my face.She was out of the picture.For months, I had watched their marriage unravel thread by fragile thread, gently tugging in all the right places. A well-placed whisper here. A fabricated “anonymous” tip there. A doctored email. A carefully timed accusation about Amelia’s loyalty and finances.Maxwell, with all his cold intelligence, had been so easy to steer once his trust cracked. And Amelia? Pathetic. She wore her emot
The Billionaire’s Forgotten Bride Chapter 69- Stuck with my fate
Amelia POVThe night pressed down on me like a suffocating shroud. Sleep didn’t come—how could it, when my entire world had tilted on its axis in the span of a single plastic stick and two pink lines? I sat curled up on the edge of my bed, my shawl wrapped tightly around me, the pregnancy test lying on the nightstand like a silent witness to the chaos unraveling inside me.The house was still. Too still. Every creak of the old floorboards sounded louder than usual, like the walls themselves were waiting for me to make a decision. My hands instinctively went to my abdomen again, resting there lightly. It was barely real yet. A handful of weeks, maybe. And yet… it was everything.Maxwell’s signature on those divorce papers flashed in my mind. Bold. Final. Detached. He had walked away without a backward glance, leaving me to drown in the wreckage of what we once were. And now, here I was, clutching the single thread that bound us still.No. I squeezed my eyes shut. This wasn’t his. Not a
The Billionaire’s Forgotten Bride Chapter 68- Cruel twist
Amelia POVThe night dragged on like a cruel symphony, every ticking second a sharp note against my fraying nerves. I hadn’t slept. I couldn’t. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Maxwell’s scrawled words burned against the darkness—You killed her. I can’t forgive you.The divorce papers lay spread out on my vanity, illuminated by the dim yellow light of the bedside lamp. I had read them so many times that the words had begun to blur, yet the pain remained sharp. Each clause, each legal phrase, was a dagger expertly placed.By dawn, my throat was raw from silent crying, and my reflection in the mirror looked almost foreign. Pale skin, swollen eyes, lips trembling between fury and heartbreak. My hair clung in loose strands to my damp cheeks.Pull yourself together, I told myself. But my voice cracked even in my own head.The house was quiet—eerily so. Servants had started moving about in hushed tones, as though my grief were a contagious disease. Every corner whispered Maxwell’s absence
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