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chapter 436

Auteur: Deedson
last update Date de publication: 2026-10-09 04:39:03

Point of View: Alexander

“Young man, I am told you have your grandmother’s temper. Sit down before you scare my pie. I did not bake it for a man who stands over me like a judge.”

Marta Hart sat in the plastic visitor’s chair beside my father’s bed, with a covered dish on her knees and her handbag clamped under her arm. She was small, and straight as a rod, and she looked at me with Elena’s dark eyes and none of Elena’s patience. I sat at once.

The room smelled of warm butter and pears. It was T
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  • The Billionaire's Secret Bride   chapter 436

    Point of View: Alexander“Young man, I am told you have your grandmother’s temper. Sit down before you scare my pie. I did not bake it for a man who stands over me like a judge.”Marta Hart sat in the plastic visitor’s chair beside my father’s bed, with a covered dish on her knees and her handbag clamped under her arm. She was small, and straight as a rod, and she looked at me with Elena’s dark eyes and none of Elena’s patience. I sat at once.The room smelled of warm butter and pears. It was Thursday night, and the hospital hummed around us with the soft business of a place that never sleeps. Elena stood by the window, her hands clasped so tightly I could see the knuckles. Marcus leaned in the doorway. Nobody spoke.My father lay propped on three pillows, pale as paper, his eyes open and fixed on the dish.“Is that pear?” he whispered.“Pear,” Marta said.“It smells like…” His voice cracked. “It smells like a back step.”“It is her recipe. Lydia’s. I did not change a thing.” Marta’s

  • The Billionaire's Secret Bride   chapter 435

    Point of View: Elena“Someone sent me a photograph of my daughter holding a Sterling’s hand. Do you know what my grandmother would say, Elena? Do you know what it costs me to say her name to you?”My mother’s voice shook on the telephone. It was seven on Thursday morning, and I stood in the pantry with the door shut, so Claire would not hear. A box of cereal lay on its side on the shelf. I had been reaching for it when the phone rang.“Mama, where did you get that photograph?”“It came in the mail. No stamp. No name.” Her breath rattled. “I am sitting on the edge of my bed and my hands will not stop shaking. Elena, I told you what Lydia sewed. I told you it was only a story. I did not know you were walking straight into the middle of it.”“I did not know either.”“You should have told me.”“I should have.” I pressed my forehead against the cool wall. “I am sorry.”“Come. Now. Do not send a car. Come yourself.”She hung up.I drove across the city with the wipers going and the radio of

  • The Billionaire's Secret Bride   chapter 434

    Point of View: Alexander“You want to take that paper to a dying man, Alexander. A man who fell down in front of us yesterday. Tell me how that is justice, and not simply revenge wearing a good coat.”Elena stood in the doorway of our bedroom at midnight, with her arms crossed over her nightgown and a shawl around her shoulders. The lamp threw her shadow long across the carpet. I sat on the edge of the bed with the folded fire report in my hands, still in my shirt and trousers, unable to remember when I had last eaten.“It is not revenge,” I said.“Then what?”“I want to ask him why.”“Ask him tomorrow. Ask him when Dr. Osei says he can bear it.”“He may not have a tomorrow.”“Then ask him gently, and let him choose the day.” Her voice shook. “Do you hear yourself? You said the same thing to me last night. You said do not decide what I can carry. Now you want to decide what he can.”I flinched. It was a clean hit, and she knew it. She came and sat beside me, close enough that her shou

  • The Billionaire's Secret Bride   chapter 433

    Point of View: Elena“Please do not call the police. They will not reach me in time. My father has a man in every precinct, and I have been sleeping in a laundry room for two nights.”Dale Pruitt sat on the edge of a leather sofa in Alexander’s private lounge, a paper cup shaking in both hands. He was younger than I remembered. Twenty six, maybe. His gray suit was wrinkled and gray with dust. His fingernails were bitten to the quick. A purple bruise ran along his jaw, and his left eye was swollen half shut.I stood by the window with my arms folded. I had come straight from the hospital. I should have been angry. I had rehearsed my anger in the car. Instead, my heart was doing something strange and unwelcome.It hurt.“Who hit you?” Alexander asked from the door. He had sent Thorne away with a polite smile and a cold promise, and his temper was still on his face.“My father.” Dale laughed, wetly. “On Monday night, after the bank. He said I was a weak little fool who could not even sig

  • The Billionaire's Secret Bride   chapter 432

    Point of View: Alexander“Mrs. Sterling, we adore you, but my husband says we cannot put our daughter’s name on a school that is being sued. Please understand. We are only afraid. Nobody wants to be on the wrong side.”The voice came from the kitchen speaker at seven the next morning, bright with false kindness. I stood in the doorway with a cup of coffee going cold in my hand. Elena sat at the table in yesterday’s clothes. She had not gone to bed. A pile of printed emails lay beside her plate, each one the same polite knife.“I understand,” Elena said. Her voice was perfectly even. “Thank you for telling me yourself.”“We hope this does not change anything between us.”“Of course not.”She ended the call. Then she laid her phone face down very carefully, as if it might break, and put both hands flat on the table.“That is the ninth family,” she said.“Elena.”“Nine families in sixteen hours. The Delancey waiting list has two hundred children on it. I built that list myself. I wrote t

  • The Billionaire's Secret Bride   chapter 431

    Point of View: Elena“Do not close your eyes, Richard. Please. You are not allowed to leave in the middle of a sentence. You promised my daughter a Sunday in the garden. Not today. Not like this.”His hand was cold in mine. It lay on the library carpet where he had fallen, light as a bundle of dry sticks, and the fire in the grate crackled on as if nothing had happened. His cane lay beside him. His lips were gray.“Ambulance is three minutes away,” Alexander said. He was on his knees on the other side, his phone pressed to his ear, his voice flat and terrible. “Marcus, open the front gate. Naomi, get a blanket. Iris, call Dr. Osei.”Nobody argued. Nobody asked who had made him the general. They simply ran.“Elena,” Alexander whispered. “What did we do?”“We asked him to tell the truth.”“He is eighty years old.”“I know.”“We made him say it out loud.”“Alexander, look at me.” I held his eyes across the old man’s body. “He wanted to say it. Nobody dragged it out of him.”“Then why do

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