All Chapters of Secret Billionaire Divorcee: Chapter 291 - Chapter 300

Caroline's Point of View The kindergarten playground is buzzing with its usual afternoon chaos—children shrieking with delight as they climb jungle gyms, parents chatting in clusters while keeping one eye on their kids, teachers shepherding stragglers toward the pickup area. It's the kind of normal, everyday scene that should feel comforting after everything we've been through. But today, something feels off. I spot Liam immediately. He's sitting alone on the bench by the sandbox, his little backpack clutched in his lap, staring at the ground while other children play around him. Usually, he's one of the first kids to run toward me when I arrive, chattering excitedly about his day, showing me artwork or asking if we can stop for ice cream. Today, he doesn't even look up when I call his name. "Liam, sweetheart," I say, kneeling down in front of him. "Ready to go home?"

Caroline's Point of View The silence in the hospital room stretches like a taut wire after Adrian's final message. Liam has fallen asleep between us, exhausted by the emotional rollercoaster of the day, his small body curled against Knoxx's uninjured side. The cartoon penguin movie plays on, but neither of us is watching anymore. "You're not going," Knoxx says finally, his voice low but absolute. "Caroline, I'm telling you right now—you are not meeting Adrian anywhere, especially not alone." I stare at my phone, re-reading Adrian's words for what feels like the hundredth time. I know about your mother's death. I know what really happened why she died. "He knows something about my mother," I whisper, unable to keep the desperation out of my voice. "Knoxx, she died when I was eight. Cancer. I watched her waste away in that hospital bed for months. I held her hand when she..." 

Caroline's Point of View The silence stretches between us like a chasm. Adrian's question echoes in my head—How well do you know your father?—while my heart pounds so loudly I'm sure he can hear it across the room. "My father loved my mother," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "He would never hurt her." Adrian's expression shifts to something that might be pity. "Love and hurt aren't mutually exclusive, Caroline. Sometimes the people we love the most are the ones who pay the highest price for our choices." He reaches into the folder again, this time pulling out what looks like an official document. Even from across the room, I can see the letterhead of a medical laboratory, the kind of precise formatting that accompanies test results. "What is that?" I ask, though part of me already knows I don't want to hear the answer. "DNA analysis result

Caroline's Point of View The hospital waiting room feels like a recurring nightmare. Here I am again, sitting in an uncomfortable plastic chair, watching doctors and nurses rush past while the man I love recovers from yet another violent encounter. The smell of antiseptic mingles with coffee from the vending machine, creating an atmosphere that's becoming far too familiar. This time, though, there are police officers stationed at every entrance. Detective Morrison insisted on the security detail after what happened at the ruins, though I suspect they're here as much to keep us contained as to keep potential threats out. Liam is curled up in the chair beside me, finally asleep after hours of worried questions about why Daddy Knoxx had to go back to the hospital. I've run out of age-appropriate explanations for the violence that keeps erupting around us, and I'm starting to wonder if there are any. "Mr

Caroline's Point of ViewThe cemetery is quiet this early in the morning, with only the distant hum of city traffic and the occasional rustle of wind through the old oak trees. I've been standing at my mother's grave for twenty minutes, but it feels like hours. The marble headstone reads "Elizabeth Rose Hill, Beloved Wife and Mother," with dates that now carry a weight I never understood before.Twenty years I've been visiting this place, bringing flowers on her birthday and anniversary, telling her about my life's milestones. Twenty years of believing she died of cancer, that her suffering was natural and unavoidable.Now I know better.The toxicology report in my left hand feels like it weighs a thousand pounds. Official laboratory stationary, Detective Morrison's signature on the authorization, results that confirm what Adrian revealed in those ruins: my mother was murdered. Systematic thallium poisoning over several weeks, designed to mimic the progression of her existing illness.