Todos os capítulos de THE BILLIONAIRE SECRET TWIN HEIR : Capítulo 141 - Capítulo 150

~ Austin POV ~The newspaper hits the marble floor of the Walton penthouse with a sound like breaking glass. My hands shake as I stare at the headline screaming across the front page: "WALTON TWINS BEWITCHED BY CON ARTIST: Gallery Curator's Criminal Past Exposed."Isabella's photo stares back at me from beneath the headline, and everything inside me goes cold."Austin." Alex's voice cuts through the morning silence, sharp and dangerous. "We need to talk."I can't look at him. Can't process the words swimming across the page. Forgery. Fraud. Destroyed her father's gallery. Twenty million dollars. Criminal investigation."This is bullshit." The words scrape out of my throat. "All of it. She wouldn't... she couldn't...""Read it again." Alex's footsteps echo across the marble as he moves closer. "All of it, Austin. Every damn word."But I can't. Because even though I know Isabella, even though I've seen her passion for art, her integrity, her gentle heart that wouldn't hurt anyone... the

~ Isabella POV ~The coffee in my hands has gone cold, but I can't stop gripping the mug. My knuckles are white against the ceramic, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to shatter it if I hold on any tighter. But letting go feels impossible right now. Everything feels impossible.Three days. It's been three days since Madeline's article hit the internet, and I still feel like I'm drowning. The headlines flash behind my eyelids every time I blink: "Gallery Curator's Criminal Father Threatens Walton Empire." "Art World Scandal: Isabella Moretti's Family Secrets Exposed." "Billionaire Twins Caught in Love Triangle with Troubled Curator."My phone buzzes against the coffee table, and I flinch. Another reporter, probably. Or maybe someone from the gallery world, calling to tell me I'm persona non grata. I've stopped answering calls I don't recognize."Isabella." Nora's voice cuts through the fog in my head. She's been camping out in my apartment since the story broke, bringing me food I don't ea

They're gone.The apartment feels hollow without them, like all the air got sucked out when they closed the door behind them. I'm still sitting in the same chair, staring at the spot on the couch where they sat together. United. Brothers again.My phone buzzes on the coffee table. A text from Austin: *Take care of yourself, Bella. We meant what we said about helping with whatever you need.*Then another from Alex: *You're stronger than you know. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.*I set the phone aside without responding. What do you say to that? Thank you for breaking my heart so gently? Thank you for making the choice I couldn't?The Italian food they brought is still sitting on my kitchen counter, getting cold. The smell of garlic and basil should be comforting, but it just reminds me of everything I'm losing.I walk to the window and press my forehead against the cool glass. New York stretches out below me, millions of lights twinkling like stars. Somewhere out there, Alex and A

~ Nora POV ~I shove Isabella's sketchbooks into the cardboard box with more force than necessary, the sharp corner catching my thumb. Blood wells up, bright and immediate, but I don't stop packing. Can't stop. If I stop moving, I might actually scream at the pristine walls of this gallery office that's become Isabella's prison.The afternoon light slants through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting everything in that golden glow that makes rich people think their lives are touched by magic. But all I see are shadows. All I smell is expensive perfume lingering in the air from some client meeting, mixed with the chemical tang of fresh paint and the bitter scent of Isabella's barely touched coffee growing cold on her desk.Another sketchbook goes into the box. Then another. Each one filled with her dreams, her vision, her talent that these people have been using like a pretty ornament for their empire.The door opens behind me, and I don't need to turn around to know who it is. The air

~Isabella POV~I press my forehead against the cool airplane window and watch Manhattan shrink beneath me, all those glittering towers becoming toy blocks in a child's playroom. The city that almost broke me is just geography now, lines on a map, coordinates that exist in my rearview mirror.My phone buzzes one last time before we reach altitude. A message from Tessa: "San Francisco better treat you right, or I'm flying out there to kick some West Coast ass."I smile despite the tightness in my chest. Despite the way my fingers keep reaching for the empty space where my engagement ring used to sit before I remembered I never had one. Never would have one, not from either of them.The woman next to me is reading a romance novel, something with a shirtless man on the cover and a title involving the word "billionaire." I want to tell her it's all lies. That real billionaires don't sweep you off your feet and carry you into the sunset. They make you choose between pieces of your heart unt