บททั้งหมดของ Hidden Twins of a Billionaire Daddy: บทที่ 191 - บทที่ 200

★★★★★ Forty-eight hours after the operation, Damon slowly regained consciousness. The sterile scent of the hospital filled his nostrils as his eyes fluttered open. He stared at the ceiling, disoriented, his mind foggy. The room felt unfamiliar, and the quiet hum of machines by his bedside only deepened his confusion. Tubes and IV lines were attached to his hands, but it took him a moment to piece together the fragmented memories of what had happened. Jasmine. The ship. Haedon. Suddenly, everything came rushing back—the fight, the blood, Jasmine’s disappearance. Panic surged through him like a jolt of electricity. He ripped the needles from his arms with a growl of determination, flinging the tubes aside. The pain was intense, but he didn’t care. He had to get out of there, had to find Jasmine. Stumbling off the bed, Damon’s legs buckled under his weight, but he forced himself to stand. He’d barely taken a step when the door burst open, and a nurse, wide-eyed with alarm, rushed in.

★★★★★ Three weeks later; "Madeline, how are you feeling now?" Paul asked gently as he stepped into the room, a warm smile on his face. He watched as she slowly woke up, a faint smile curving her lips despite the fatigue that still lingered. "I’m feeling a bit better," she replied, though her voice was soft and tentative. "But… do I really have to keep taking that medicine? It’s so bitter, and it makes me feel worse afterward." Paul’s expression softened, his concern evident as he took her hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly. "I know it’s not pleasant," he said, his voice steady but kind, "but you had a really bad accident, Madeline. The doctors were clear—you need to keep taking the medication to recover. I care about you too much to let you skip it." Madeline looked down, frowning slightly as she processed his words. She touched the small bruises on her face, her fingers tracing over them absentmindedly. "But… why can’t I remember anything? Why does the name ‘Madeline’ feel s

★★★★★ "He’s always busy!" Jasmine sighed, her voice tinged with a mix of frustration and longing. She glanced around the room that had become her gilded cage, the four walls she knew too well, the garden outside that she’d only glimpsed through the window. "I was thinking," she continued, trying to sound casual, "maybe we could go out together, explore the town a bit? I’m feeling a little restless being cooped up here all the time." The caretaker gave her a sympathetic smile, but it was tinged with something else, something more guarded. "Madam, I understand your frustration," she said gently, "but your health is the top priority. Sir is very concerned, especially after all the injuries you’ve suffered. Staying here isn’t a restriction—it’s for your well-being. How about I take you back to your room? A little rest might help, just like it usually does when you’re feeling this way." Jasmine forced a smile, masking her disappointment. "No, thank you. I’ll go on my own," she repl

★★★★★ Dante sat across from Payne, his eyes clouded with the weight of uncertainty. The silence between them was heavy, punctuated only by Payne’s quiet sniffles as she wiped away her tears. “Are we never going to find Mom?” Payne’s voice trembled, breaking the stillness. “It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve seen her face. I can’t take it anymore, Dante.” Dante leaned forward, his heart aching at the sight of his sister’s despair. He wanted to offer her some semblance of hope, but the words felt hollow even as they left his lips. “Dad’s doing everything he can, Payne. We’ll find her. I promise you, we will.” Payne shook her head, her tears falling faster now. “But how? How can she not be looking for us? Mom wouldn’t leave me for a day, let alone weeks. Why hasn’t she reached out? Why hasn’t she tried to find us?” Dante’s throat tightened, and he struggled to find the right words. “I don’t think Mom is free to do what she wants. Maybe… maybe the people who took her are stopp

★★★★★ "Martha!" Paul greeted with a forced smile, clearly displeased by her sudden appearance. "How are you?" "I'm fine, Paul," Martha replied, her eyes darting towards Jasmine, who, despite her mask, had an unmistakable curiosity in her gaze. "I got married six months ago. I invited you and Layla. Neither of you showed up." "Time isn't always on our side," Paul said tersely. "I've been swamped with work." "Where's Layla? And what exactly are you doing here?" Martha pressed, her suspicions growing. She didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but the situation made it hard not to think the worst. Paul drew in a deep breath, resisting the urge to lose his temper. "You have Layla's number. She can tell you where she is," he said, irritation creeping into his voice. "How about we discuss this later?" "Are you cheating on Layla with her?" Martha cut to the chase, her voice sharp. "Do you think I didn’t notice? I know how much Layla loves you!" Paul slammed his hand on the table and stood