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Chapter Thirty five– The Weight of the Truth
Last Updated:
2025-12-09 06:18:26
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The Billionaire’s Lost Heiress chapter forty nine
The hospital smells like bleach and bad coffee. I’m curled in a plastic chair in the hallway outside Alex’s room, blanket around my shoulders, the makeshift silver ring twisted around my finger like a talisman. He’s inside getting a final check stitches clean, no concussion, just bruises blooming purple across his ribs. I keep replaying the moment he ripped the car door open, the way his blood hit the concrete while he fought for me. My fiancé. The word still feels surreal, soft and sharp at once. Footsteps echo down the corridor, quick and familiar. I look up and there’s Bella. She’s dressed like she actually cares—soft sweater, hair in a messy bun, eyes wide with what looks like worry. A small bouquet of grocery-store roses trembles in her hands. “Clara,” she breathes, rushing over. Oh my God, I heard what happened. Are you okay? I stiffen. The last time we spoke, she was smiling that poison smile while sending me photos of Alex’s hand up her skirt. I don’t trust this version
The Billionaire’s Lost Heiress Chapter forty Eight
The morning starts ordinary, almost gentle. I wake tangled in Alex’s sheets, his arm heavy across my waist, city sunlight striping the bed. For the first time in months, I don’t jolt awake from nightmares. I just lie there listening to his steady breathing, feeling the warmth of him against my back, and let myself believe we might actually survive this.We make slow, lazy love no rush, no desperation, just the quiet certainty of two people who finally know they belong to each other without any curse hanging over them. He kisses every bruise Bella’s rumors left on my heart, murmurs my name like it’s sacred. Afterward he makes coffee while I steal one of his shirts, and we drink it on the balcony, shoulders touching, planning how we’ll confront Richard when he gets back from New York tomorrow, and going to the US attorneys office to give put the recording we acquired the the previous day.I leave for campus around noon, promising to text when my last class ends. He watches me go with
The Billionaire’s Lost Heiress chapter forty-seven
The hotel suite smells like stale coffee and fear. We’re on the twenty-third floor of some anonymous downtown tower, curtains drawn tight against the city lights. The PI man mr Harlan, mid-fifties, ex-cop with tired eyes and a voice like gravel has turned the dining table into a war room: laptops open, files spread, a digital recorder spinning slowly in the center. Alex paces behind the sofa like a caged animal. I sit on the edge of an armchair, knees pressed together, hands twisted in my lap. And across from me, on the edge of the bed, is my mother. Eleanor Langford sorry i meant Eleanor Robert,looks smaller than I remember from that disastrous dinner months ago. Her hair is pulled back severely, face bare of makeup, eyes red-rimmed. She’s wearing a simple gray sweater that swallows her body When our gazes meet, she flinches like I’ve struck her. The silence stretches until it hurts. Harlan clears his throat. “We’re recording this for the file. Everything said in this room stay
The Billionaire’s Lost Heiress Chapter forty six
The planetarium is almost empty on a Thursday night,just a handful of couples scattered in the domed dark, heads tilted back to the slow swirl of projected stars. Adrian leads me by the hand down the sloping aisle, his palm warm and steady. He picked me up after my shift with a quiet smile and no questions, like he could sense the storm inside me and wanted to give me somewhere calm to stand in it. We settle into the back row, seats reclined, the lights dimming until the ceiling becomes a velvet sky. Galaxies bloom overhead, slow and ancient. His shoulder brushes mine. This place has no lies, he whispers. Just stars. They don’t pretend to be anything they’re not. I turn to look at him. The soft blue glow of nebulae paints his face high cheekbones, gentle eyes, the kind of handsome that feels safe. He’s wearing a dark sweater that smells faintly of cedar and winter air. When he reaches over and laces his fingers through mine, it feels like the simplest thing in the world. Halfw
The Billionaire’s Lost Heiress Chapter forty five
I shouldn’t be here. The penthouse is supposed to be empty,Richard and my mother still in New York, Kacey at some winter formal downtown, the staff given the weekend off. Alex texted me the code again, just in case, but I told myself I was only coming for the files he’d left in his old room. More evidence from the PI and Nothing else. But I lie to myself a lot these days. The elevator opens straight into the foyer, silent and dark except for the city glow bleeding through the windows. My boots echo too loud on the marble. I smell Richard’s cologne lingering like a warning. I head upstairs, heart thudding, telling myself I’ll grab the envelope and leave,don’t get into trouble. Alex’s old room is exactly how we left it that night,sheets still rumpled, my perfume faint on the pillow. The manila envelope is on the desk, thick with new pages. I tuck it under my arm, but my eyes immediately snag the hallway beyond. Richard’s study door is cracked open. Just an inch. Light spilling o
The Billionaire’s Lost Heiress chapter forty four
The audio file arrives at 3:17 a.m. I’m sitting cross-legged on my studio floor, headphones on, coffee gone cold beside me. The recording is grainy someone’s phone hidden in Richard Robert’s office ,but the voices are unmistakable. My mother’s soft laugh. Richard’s low murmur. A date mentioned. A payment. Words like “clean slate” and “permanent solution.” My hands go numb. I hit pause, rewind, listen again, and again, until the words carve themselves into my brain. I don’t cry I just sit there in the dark, feeling something inside me harden into steel. Morning comes very heavy , I drag myself to campus, hoodie up, eyes down. The rumors have evolved thanks to Bella—now I’m the girl who trades sex for money, who sleeps with professors, who chased Alex because of his last name. People whisper when I pass. I keep walking. Adrian finds me in the library stacks again, same spot where he once offered half a sandwich and quiet kindness. He’s in a charcoal coat that probably costs more
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