All Chapters of My Daughter Found Me A Billionaire Husband : Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

Ryan Edwards The docks were quiet at night, but not empty. I kept to the shadows, pulling my hood lower as I scanned the rows of warehouses. The address burned in my mind. A van. A child inside. I moved closer, my steps light, my fists ready. My heart pounded hard, but not from fear. From rage. If Isabella was here, I would tear through anyone in my way. A group of men smoked near one of the doors. Their voices carried in the night, low and rough. I slipped behind a stack of crates, straining to listen. “Boss says we move her soon,” one muttered. “She’s been crying nonstop,” another replied. “Almost feel bad for the kid.” My blood turned hot. She was here. I gripped the knife in my pocket tighter. This was it. Lily Thompson While Ryan was out chasing danger, I faced another kind of war. The press hadn’t left the gate since morning. Their voices carried through the windows, their questions sharp and cruel. “Why would she give up her inheritance to a crimin

Lily Thompson I listened to his voice mail three times and still wanted to throw the phone across the room. I sat on the edge of the bed with Isabella’s bunny in my lap and picked at the loose thread in its ear. My eyes hurt. My throat felt raw. I could still hear my own words from earlier and I hated how sharp they sounded, but I also meant every one. This is your fault. Theo knocked once and pushed the door open. He held up a paper bag. “Food.” “I am not hungry,” I said. “I know,” he said. “Eat anyway.” He set the bag on the dresser and did not leave. “He sent it.” I stared at the bag and felt stupid tears start again. “I told him I cannot do this with him.” Theo did not move closer. He kept his voice even. “And you do not have to. You can lean on me. Lean on the police. Lean on the plan. You do not have to lean on him.” I wiped my face with the heel of my hand. “He said he is clean tonight.” Theo’s jaw worked once. “Good. That is the least he can be.” “Do

Lily Thompson The night dragged on like a punishment. I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Isabella’s face. Sometimes she was crying. Sometimes she was calling my name. Sometimes she was lying still, and those were the worst ones. I sat at the kitchen table with cold coffee in front of me, staring at the steam that had faded hours ago. The blanket was still in my lap. I hadn’t let it go since the raid. The front door creaked open, and Ryan walked in, shoulders heavy, his shirt damp with sweat. He looked like he had been fighting ghosts all night. Theo followed a few minutes later, his laptop bag over his shoulder. For once, they didn’t start arguing. They just stood there, watching me. “What?” I whispered. My voice sounded cracked, like I hadn’t used it in years. Ryan set a folder on the table. Theo opened his laptop. They exchanged a glance, then Theo said, “We found something.” Theo turned the screen toward me. “Your stepfather isn’t as careful as he

Lily Thompson The farmhouse was swarming with police. Flashlights cut through every corner, radios buzzed, men shouted orders. But all I could do was hold Isabella against me and keep my eyes on the boy in the corner. He looked so small. Too small for his age. His eyes were tired, but they never left Ryan. Ryan hadn’t moved since he saw him. He stood frozen, fists clenched, chest rising and falling like he had run a mile. His face was pale, his eyes wide. Theo knelt beside me, helping untie Isabella’s wrists. His voice was calm, steady, everything I wasn’t. “She’s safe now. You’re safe.” Isabella clung tighter. “Don’t let them take me again, Mommy.” I kissed her forehead, my tears dripping into her hair. “Never again, baby. Never.” The detective shouted from the hall. “He’s not here. Ochoa slipped out before we arrived.” My head jerked up. “What?” “He must have had someone tip him off,” the detective said, grim. “But we’ve got his men. We’ll squeeze them until they

Thompson The courtroom was cold. Too cold. Dante sat across from me, his wrists in cuffs, his eyes sharp and smug even in chains. He looked nothing like the father I had once begged to love me. He looked like what he had always been — a man who saw me as property. The detective stood behind him. Theo sat beside me, his files stacked high, every page filled with the evidence that had finally dragged Ochoa into the light. Ryan stood against the wall, arms crossed, his eyes never leaving Dante . I clutched the papers in my lap — the DNA results, proof of the truth that had shattered me. The boy wasn’t just another victim. He was mine. My son. And Dante had stolen him from me. “Why?” My voice shook, but I didn’t care. “Why would you do this to me? To him?” Dante smirked. “Because I could. Because you never deserved what was given to you. Everything should have been mine. The money. The name. The power. And you—” his eyes flicked to me, cruel — “you were always weak. Easy t