All Chapters of Secret Billionaire Divorcee: Chapter 181 - Chapter 190

Caroline’s Point of ViewThe air is damp and cold. My skin sticks to the back of the chair I’m tied to, my wrists aching where the ropes cut into them. There’s a dull throb at the base of my skull—probably from being knocked out—but it’s nothing compared to the twist of fear in my chest.I don’t know how long I’ve been here. There are no windows in the warehouse, just faint light from a single flickering bulb above me. I keep waiting for someone to come in. Waiting for anything—another voice, footsteps, even a cough.But it’s been hours. Or maybe minutes. I can’t tell anymore.I test the ropes again. They’re tight. No give. My ankles are bound too, and the chair creaks every time I shift.Liam.The thought of my son rushes in like a knife. What if I never see him again? What if he wakes up tomorrow and I’m not there? What if no one tells him what happened? What if he grows up thinking I abandoned him?I breathe through my nose, trying to stay calm. If I break down now, I won’t think s

Caroline’s Point of ViewI don’t know how long I’ve been in here.The cold, stale air presses against my skin. It clings to me like a second layer, suffocating and oppressive. My mouth is dry again, and the back of my throat feels like I’ve swallowed sandpaper. My wrists are sore from the ropes, and my shoulders are tense, locked in place. My mind races through a thousand thoughts, but nothing settles long enough to make sense.Please, God. Please let Adrian find me.I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the noise of the warehouse, the eerily quiet space that feels like a tomb. The only thing that keeps me grounded is the tiny device in my hand, the recording still running—everything Dolly’s said, everything she’s done, all captured in that one small, hidden gadget. It’s not enough to calm my nerves, though. What good is it if I die here?A part of me doesn’t want to think about that. I don’t want to imagine that this could be it.Then—A sound—a bang.I jerk upright in the chai

Caroline’s Point of ViewThe world feels like it’s moving in slow motion. The fear in my chest, the frantic beat of my heart, it’s all consuming, but nothing hits harder than the weight of the doctor’s words.“Ma’am, you can’t sign. You’re not family.”I blink, struggling to grasp the meaning. Not family? I’m not family. The thought catches in my throat. I don’t have the right to make decisions. Not for Adrian. Not in this moment when it matters the most.I try to speak, my voice weak and trembling. “But... I—” My words break off, choked by the panic rising in my chest. I need to help him. But without permission, there’s nothing I can do.The doctor’s gaze softens slightly, his eyes full of pity. “I’m sorry, but we need someone with legal authority to make this call.”The cold, sterile air of the room presses down on me, suffocat

Caroline’s Point of ViewI sit across from the detective in the cold, gray-walled interrogation room, the recorder lying on the table between us. My fingers tremble slightly as I slide the flash drive across the smooth surface. I’ve played this moment in my head all night—how I’d hand over the truth, how I’d finally clear my name.“This is it,” I say, voice low but steady. “Everything she confessed. It’s all there.”Detective Ramirez picks up the drive, giving me a long, assessing look. “You’re sure she wasn’t coerced? No threats?”I meet his gaze. “She talked on her own. I just listened.”He nods slowly, motioning for the officer behind the mirror to take it for processing. My stomach tightens as the door clicks shut again. The moment feels heavier than I imagined.“She admitted to the theft of your designs, the drugging incident, and the incident involving the late Mr. Wayne?” he asks.“Yes,” I say. “She confessed to all of it. She also named someone else. A man. I don’t know his fu

Caroline’s Point of ViewKnoxx is standing in front of me again. Same expensive suit. Same arrogant posture. Same eyes that once used to undo me with a single look. Not anymore.I don’t flinch when he speaks.“You really won’t even look at me?”I cross my arms, leaning back against the wall of the hospital waiting area. The air smells sterile and cold. But inside, I feel oddly still. Numb, even.“I’m looking at you right now,” I say quietly.“That’s not what I meant,” he replies. He shifts on his feet like he’s uncomfortable. “Caroline… everything’s out. Everyone knows what Dolly did. She’s going to prison. You don’t have to keep pretending like you’re angry at me.”“I’m not pretending,” I say, still calm. Too calm. “And I’m not angry.”He frowns. “You’re not?”