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Fury at the Gate
Last Updated:
2025-09-14 23:12:45
Latest chapter
The Billionaire's secret baby bride Shadows and Sanctuary
(Isabella’s POV)The car sped through the city under a bruised sky, headlights slicing through the dark like desperate hope. Rain poured down in violent sheets, beating against the windshield, each drop echoing the chaos in my chest.Alexander’s hands gripped the steering wheel tight, knuckles white, his jaw set in a way that made him look carved from stone. The rhythmic flick of the wipers did little to calm the storm inside either of us.Neither of us spoke for a long time. The silence between us was alive—thick with fear, exhaustion, and all the words we didn’t dare say.Finally, I whispered, “Where are we going?”He didn’t glance at me. “Somewhere safe.”Safe. I wasn’t sure I even knew what that meant anymore.We drove for nearly an hour before the city lights began to fade, swallowed by the dense forest that bordered the outskirts. The roads grew narrower, rougher, until we turned onto a barely visible dirt path that led into darkness.A few minutes later, a cabin appeared in the
The Billionaire's secret baby bride The Calms Before the Ruin
I woke up to silence.Not the peaceful kind that cradles you after a storm, but the kind that hums with things unsaid—delicate, waiting to shatter.Alexander’s arm was still around me, heavy and protective, his body warm against my back. For a fleeting second, I allowed myself to pretend that nothing had happened—that the lies, the distance, the heartbreak—were all part of a bad dream. That when I turned around, he’d smile and say it was okay.But then I opened my eyes.The morning light poured through the curtains, gilding the room in gold and gray. His scent lingered—clean, masculine, familiar. My heart ached at how much I’d missed that smell, that touch, that peace.He stirred beside me, shifting slightly, his breath brushing against my shoulder.For a heartbeat, I thought he’d pull me closer.Instead, he let go.The emptiness that followed was worse than any fight we’d ever had.He sat up slowly, rubbing his hand over his face, as if trying to wipe away the night. His eyes met min
The Billionaire's secret baby bride The Weight of His Silence
The night pressed down on the world like a held breath. Rain whispered against the glass walls of the penthouse, tracing paths of silver down the windows as if the sky itself wept for me. I stood there, motionless, my reflection staring back—pale, fractured, tired. My hands trembled, not from the cold but from the storm inside me that refused to calm.Alexander hadn’t spoken in hours. Not since the truth came out. Not since everything I’d buried under love and denial came clawing to the surface again.He sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, head bowed. The light from the chandelier carved his silhouette in gold and shadow. His silence was worse than shouting. Worse than anger. Because silence meant he was slipping away—and I couldn’t lose him. Not again. Not after everything we’d survived.“Say something,” I whispered, but my voice cracked before the words reached him.He didn’t move.I swallowed the lump rising in my throat and forced another breath. “You can’t just sit t
The Billionaire's secret baby bride The Shadows Return
Alexander’s POVThe night settled over the city like a warning. The skyline, once a river of lights, now looked like a battlefield dressed in gold and shadow. From the balcony, I could see my reflection against the glass—dark eyes, tense jaw, a man caught between vengeance and the fragile thing called peace.The message still burned in my mind.You can’t run from what you owe, Alexander. Not even with her.The number was untraceable. Marcus had already checked, scoured through encryption layers and dark web trails, but nothing. Whoever sent it knew exactly how to hide. That meant it wasn’t random. It was someone who knew me—someone who’d been close enough once to predict every move I’d make.I wasn’t going to tell Isabella the rest of what I’d found. Not yet. She’d seen enough darkness already.Inside, the penthouse was quiet except for the low hum of the surveillance screens. Isabella had fallen asleep on the couch, curled beneath a blanket, her hair spilling across the cushions like
The Billionaire's secret baby bride The Weight of Dawn
Isabella’s POVThe morning came with a cruel kind of stillness — the kind that arrives after a storm, when everything feels too quiet, too heavy, too real. The city below was wrapped in mist, the streets glistening with the remnants of last night’s rain. From the penthouse balcony, I could see the skyline shrouded in pale light, the clouds drifting lazily like exhausted ghosts.I stood there barefoot, one of Alexander’s shirts hanging loosely off my shoulder. The air was cold, sharp with the scent of wet asphalt and salt. But the ache in my chest was warmer — heavy, human, and hollow all at once.He hadn’t said a word since he came back last night. I’d washed the blood from his hands myself — crimson stains that refused to leave, no matter how long I scrubbed. And when his trembling fingers touched my face afterward, I realized it wasn’t just blood that clung to him — it was guilt.He was still asleep, sprawled across the bed, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. But even
The Billionaire's secret baby bride The Storm Before the Dawn
The night sky was a chaotic swirl of thunder and rage. Rain hammered down on the glass windows of the penthouse, the storm outside echoing the turmoil that churned in Alexander’s chest. He stood by the balcony, hands gripping the railing so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Every flash of lightning illuminated his face — sharp, angry, and haunted.He had just returned from the underground council, and the news had been nothing short of disastrous. His enemies were closing in. Betrayal was spreading through his ranks like poison, and for the first time in years, Alexander felt the ground beneath him tremble.The sound of soft footsteps reached him. Isabella appeared in the doorway, dressed in one of his shirts — her bare legs peeking out beneath the hem, her hair slightly damp from a shower. Even now, she looked breathtakingly calm, though her eyes carried that knowing sadness she often wore when he was troubled.“Another bad night?” she asked gently.Alexander didn’t turn to her
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