Surrogate Wife For The Mysterious Billionaire のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 81 - チャプター 90

Around seven in the morning, Damon’s white car could be seen driving down the private road leading to Nana’s grand estate. Inside the car, the silence was deafening as the only thing that could be heard was hum of the engine and the quiet rustle of fabric every time Scarlett shifted in her seat.She looked absolutely breath-taking. She wore a beautifully tailored, yellow dress that seemed to capture the very essence of the morning sun. The color was a stark contrast to the dark, suffocating shadows that had plagued her mind for the past forty-eight hours. The dress had a modest neckline and puffed sleeves, casting her in an aura of pure, elegant innocence. She had done her best to use makeup to conceal the faint, stubborn puffiness around her eyes, and the vibrant hue of the fabric successfully breathed life back into her pale complexion.In her lap, her hands rested protectively over a beautifully wrapped, flat package—the completed painting she had spent the previous afternoon finis

DAMONI could hear people talking all around me, but I couldn’t comprehend a single damn word they were saying.The sounds collided in midair, smashing together into a loud, suffocating wall of white noise. Footsteps rushed past me like the wind, heels clicking sharply against the polished floor, doors slamming, paper rustling—everything was moving at a frantic, hyper-speed pace while I remained utterly paralyzed. My vision was completely blurred, reduced to heavy smears of sterile white light and passing shadows."Mr. Hilton? Sir, can you hear me?"A voice finally broke through the static, anchoring me back to the cold reality of the hospital corridor. I blinked heavily, the fog in my eyes slowly clearing until the grim face of the chief medical officer came into sharp focus. He was holding a clipboard, his mouth moving, his expression dripping with that practiced, heavy-hearted pity that doctors used when they had just failed."We did everything we could," his voice finally register

SCARLETT Three months later. I couldn’t sleep. I’d collapsed into bed three hours ago, my body exhausted from staying awake to calm down Cameron. He’s been crying furiously for days, he was teething. This is not his first teeth and I didn’t know anything about soothing his teeth until I called Grace for help. But that wasn’t what was keeping me awake. Today I called myself his mommy.Flashback I sat at the edge of the armchair in the nursery, my shoulders tight with a heavy, aching exhaustion that seemed to seep straight into my bones. The digital clock on the changing table read 11:14 PM. My eyes were tired from hours of staying awake, and singing and humming for the little human on my chest, but sleep was the furthest thing from my mind."I know, my sweet boy, I know," I cooed softly, my voice barely a thread in the dim room. I shifted Cameron higher against my chest, gently swaying my hips back and forth in a slow, hypnotic rhythm.He was wriggling against me and his tiny chee

SCARLETTIt’s been six hours since Damon left the house in a hurry after I told him I wanted to leave. I don’t know where he went to and I don’t care. At least his absence gave me time to do the next thing I need to do to leave this place.A divorce.I don’t have a lawyer and I sure as hell don’t have enough time to wait around and find one, so I did what any desperate person would do.I quickly went online and searched for a divorce attorney. Luck was on my side as I finally found one whose reviews seemed promising—a small, independent firm on the south side of town that promised fast, discreet turnarounds for straightforward filings. I didn't care about the cost, nor did I care if the terms were stacked entirely in Damon’s favor. I didn't want his money. I didn't want his family's vast wealth, his sprawling real estate, or a single cent of spousal support from the Hilton fortune.All I wanted was my name back. All I wanted was my freedom.By the time the messenger delivered the cris

SCARLETTThe drive back to the estate felt like a funeral procession.Tom didn’t speak a word from the front seat, his hands gripped tight on the steering wheel, his eyes darting to me occasionally in the rearview mirror. I couldn't bring myself to look at him or out the window. Every single mile took me further away from the ICU, further away from the man whose blood had soaked into the very threads of my clothes.When the heavy iron gates of the mansion slowly parted, the sight of the grand house didn't bring me any comfort. It loomed ahead under the twilight sky—dark, sprawling, and hollow. A place I was somewhat excited to be the first time I came here, but tonight, it just felt like a monument to everything that was falling apart.The car rolled to a stop in the front circular driveway. I opened the door before Tom could step out to get it for me, my legs numb as my feet hit the cold gravel.Inside the house, Grace was standing near the foot of the marble staircase. Her sharp eye