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Chapter fifty five

مؤلف: Miss Robb
last update آخر تحديث: 2025-12-30 08:18:41

The hospital room felt like a cage, it brought back memories of the crash it has sterile walls closing in under the hum of fluorescent lights. Alex lay propped against pillows, his shoulder wrapped in fresh gauze, the faint scent of antiseptic clinging to his skin. He’d been shot—grazed, the doctors said but the painkillers dulled the edge, leaving him sharp-eyed and restless. I sat beside him, my hand in his, thumb tracing lazy circles on his palm. It was our quiet ritual, a reminder that we were still here, still fighting.

A soft knock pulled us from the silence.

Bella stood in the doorway, a vision of false sympathy. Her hair fell in perfect waves, makeup subtle but flawless, a bouquet of white lilies clutched in her manicured hands. She looked like she’d stepped from a sympathy card—concerned, innocent, the girl who once pretended to be my friend.

“Oh, Alex,” she breathed, stepping inside without invitation. Her eyes flicked to me for a split second, then back to him, widen
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  • The Billionaire’s Lost Heiress    chapter sixty three

    The weeks after graduation didn’t slow down the world the way I thought they would. If anything, they peeled it open. Healing, I learned, isn’t a quiet exhale after the storm. It’s work. It’s choosing, every single day, not to run from the scars that still ache when the weather changes. ********** Eleanor started calling more. Not the stiff, hesitant calls from before, but small ones. Ordinary ones. Did you eat today? I found Dad’s old watch—do you want it? There’s a farmers market near my place. You used to love the honey bread. At first, every call tightened something in my chest. Years of abandonment don’t dissolve just because someone says sorry. But she didn’t rush me. She didn’t push. She showed up, every given opportunity. She came to my therapy sessions once a month when I invited her. Sat quietly, hands folded, eyes damp, listening to me say things I’d buried for years. “You left,” I told her during one session, voice shaking. “Not physically. Emotionally. And I n

  • The Billionaire’s Lost Heiress    Chapter sixty two

    The morning of graduation dawned with a clarity that felt almost surreal, the sky a vast expanse of blue unbroken by clouds. I stood before the mirror in our small apartment, adjusting the black cap atop my head, the tassel swaying gently with each movement. The gown draped over me like a symbol of culmination, its weight both literal and metaphorical. Four years of relentless effort, nights blurred by textbooks and grief, had led to this moment. Top of the class. Valedictorian. The engineer Dad had always envisioned, ready to rebuild what had been lost. Alex entered the room, his presence is a steady anchor amid the whirlwind of emotions. He approached from behind, his hands resting lightly on my shoulders, his reflection joining mine in the glass. "You look remarkable," he said, his voice low and filled with pride. His eyes met mine, conveying a depth of support that words could scarcely capture. The scar on his shoulder, now a faint line, served as a reminder of the trials we ha

  • The Billionaire’s Lost Heiress    chapter sixty one

    Alex stood in the doorway, the light from the hall casting long shadows across his face. His shirt was untucked, hair messy like he’d run his hands through it a hundred times, eyes red-rimmed and raw. My heart hammered so loud I could barely hear the rain pattering outside. This was it, the moment everything broke or mended.“We need to talk,” he said again, voice thick, closing the door behind him with a soft click that felt final.I stood from the couch, arms wrapped around myself like armor trying to brace myself for impact . The photo from Victoria’s account burned in my mind: her in that silk robe, him too close, the caption mocking me. “Did you sleep with her?” The words tumbled out, sharp and scared.He flinched like I’d slapped him. “No. God, Clara, no.” He crossed the room in two strides, reaching for me, but I stepped back. Hurt flashed in his eyes, but he stopped, hands dropping to his sides. “Let me explain. Please.”I nodded, throat tight. “Start with why you’re late. And

  • The Billionaire’s Lost Heiress    chapter sixty :Temptation’s Edge

    The days after that confrontation felt like walking on glass sharp, fragile, ready to shatter under one wrong step. I threw myself into finals like a lifeline. Graduation was four days away. Just Four. The ceremony I’d dreamed of since the crash, the one Dad would’ve beamed at from the front row, Liam waving a goofy sign. I couldn’t let Victoria,or doubt l⁷steal it. Langford name meant something once: innovation, integrity, and building things that lasted. Dad’s company was gone, scattered by Richard’s greed, but I could rebuild it in my way. Top of the class. Best thesis. Scholarships for grad school. Prove we weren’t broken. So I studied until my eyes were bloodshot . Labs at dawn, library until closing, caffeine my constant companion. Alex tried to help bring dinner, massaging my neck, quizzing me on control systems until his voice went hoarse. But the air between us was thick with unsaid things. He’d touch me tentative now, like I might pull away. And sometimes I did, the memor

  • The Billionaire’s Lost Heiress    chapter fifty nine:Old Flames, New Cracks

    ********Graduation was three weeks away, and the apartment smelled like coffee, highlighters, and the faint vanilla candle I burned when stress got too loud. I was neck-deep in thesis revisions, circuits diagrams scattered across the table like puzzle pieces. Alex had been my rock ,bringing late-night snacks, rubbing my shoulders when my neck cramped, whispering “You’re almost there, baby” until I believed it.The night he proposed properly still glowed in my chest. He’d waited until rain drummed soft against the window, then dropped to one knee in our tiny living room, the diamond ring catching every lamp light like stars trapped in metal. “Marry me after graduation,” he said, voice thick. Let’s build that life—ours, not his.*********I jumped on him before he finished, kissing him so deeply the world blurred. Tears mixed with laughter as I said yes a hundred times, hands in his hair, bodies pressing close on the couch. We made love right there—slow,his mouth mapping every inch lik

  • The Billionaire’s Lost Heiress    chapter fifty Eight

    The plea deal request landed like a grenade in our laps. Richard’s lawyer delivered it personally slick suit, no eye contact—as if handing over a poisoned gift. “Life without parole,” the terms read, “in exchange for full disclosure of offshore accounts and accomplices.” But the kicker: a private meeting with Alex. “Father and son,” the note said in Richard’s precise handwriting. One last conversation. Alex stared at the paper for a long minute, jaw clenched so tight I thought it might crack. We were in the safe house kitchen, coffee going cold between us, the weight of the trial still hanging like smoke. “He wants to twist the knife one more time,” Alex muttered finally,Get in my head maybe. “Don’t go,” I said, my hand on his arm. The scar from the graze was fading, but the memory wasn’t. “Let the feds handle him.” He looked at me, eyes stormy. “I have to. To end it. For us.” The meeting happened two days later in a federal holding cell gray walls, one-way glass, guards outside.

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