Semua Bab The Billionaire's Reluctant Bride : Bab 201 - Bab 210

Some ghosts don’t knock when they return.They walk in like they never left.Alexander was already dressed when I came down the stairs.His shoulders were too straight, his movements too careful.Something was off.He didn’t speak at first—just poured coffee into a mug, then another, and handed one to me without meeting my eyes.“Morning,” I said, watching him.“Morning,” he replied, too quickly.I took a sip. “You’re avoiding eye contact.”“I’m thinking.”“That’s new?”He looked up then, the ghost of a smile flickering across his mouth. But it didn’t stay.“There’s something I need to do today,” he said. “Alone.”I raised an eyebrow. “What kind of something?”“The kind I’ve put off for fifteen years.”That got my attention.“Where are you going?”He hesitated.“To my father’s house.”My stomach dropped.We didn’t talk much after that.He kissed me goodbye like he might not make it back, and I didn’t know how to tell him that was what scared me the most—not the ghosts he was chasing,

Some doors don’t open at once.They creak. They hesitate.But if you’re patient… they let you in.Alexander didn’t speak right away.He stared at the laptop screen like it might sprout teeth and bite.I sat beside him, the PDF attachment still unopened in his inbox. His hand hovered above the trackpad, trembling just enough for me to notice.“You don’t have to open it right now,” I said quietly.“I know,” he replied, not moving.“But you want to.”A beat.“I don’t know what I want. I just know I hate that it’s there. That they still have that kind of power over me.”His voice was rough, like it hurt to admit.“You’re not the same man you were when they could control you with a whisper,” I said. “You don’t owe them anything.”He turned to me, eyes dark.“But I owe myself the truth.”Still, we didn’t open the file.Not yet.Instead, he closed the laptop slowly, pushed it aside, and turned fully toward me.“I want to tell you something,” he said. “But I need you to promise you’ll let me

Some people break open.Others slowly unfold.Alexander always did both—with me.I didn’t expect him to say yes.Not when I held up the phone and read the coordinates out loud. Not when I asked, “Should we go?”But he nodded.Once. Steady. Certain.That was how I knew the walls weren’t just cracking. They were coming down—one jagged brick at a time.The morning after the message, Alexander stood at the foot of our bed, tie half-knotted, staring out the window like the skyline had answers he couldn’t reach.“I used to think vulnerability made you weak,” he said without turning.I sat up slowly. “What changed your mind?”He looked at me. “You.”We didn’t speak much on the drive.But it wasn’t the awkward kind of quiet.It was weighted. Anticipatory.He held my hand the whole time, thumb moving in slow circles over my skin like he needed the rhythm to keep him grounded.When we pulled up to the address—an old private airfield just outside the city—he didn’t flinch.I did.The place looke

Some confessions don’t come out in arguments or passionate kisses.Sometimes, they show up in the space between silence and surrender.“I think I’ve loved you longer than I’ve admitted to myself.”Alexander said it so quietly, it almost disappeared into the rhythm of his breath.We were sitting on the rooftop, the city stretched beneath us like a living thing. His arm was around my shoulders, the air just brisk enough to make me lean into him. We hadn’t spoken for a few minutes. Just sat there watching lights flicker in distant apartments, wondering about other people’s stories while trying to make sense of our own.But when did he say those words?Everything stopped.“I used to believe love had to come with a plan,” he went on, not looking at me. “That it had to be structured. Logical. If I couldn’t measure it or predict it, it wasn’t safe.”His hand tightened on my shoulder.“But you…” He exhaled a shaky breath. “You didn’t fit into a single box. You broke every system I relied on.”

Some habits don’t die quietly.They claw their way back in—right when you think you’re finally free.“I need you to breathe.”My voice sliced through the silence like a thread pulling him back from the edge. I placed my hand flat against Alexander’s chest, feeling the thunderous pace of his heartbeat beneath my palm.He stood rigid in the middle of our living room, eyes fixed on the TV where the news headline flashed over and over like a cruel mantra.Global Innovations Scandal Deepens—Chen Empire Under FireThe moment hung in the air, heavy as a verdict.He didn’t speak.His eyes flicked across the screen, scanning details his brain probably already memorized. The part of him trained to fix things, to control everything, was spinning up like a machine.“Alexander,” I said again, firmer this time. “You need to breathe. Now.”He blinked, like he was surfacing from underwater, and drew in a slow, shaky breath—but it wasn’t enough. His shoulders stayed locked. His fists clenched.“I can