All Chapters of Billionaire's Captive Heiress: Love Under His Rule: Chapter 21 - Chapter 26

ClaraI push open the hospital room door carefully, trying not to wake my mother if she’s asleep. But instead of finding her resting, I see her sitting upright in bed, a warm smile lighting her tired features. Her frail hands rest on the blanket covering her legs, and the faint beeping of the monitors reminds me of why she’s here in the first place.“Clara, sweetheart,” she greets me with that familiar softness in her voice that always makes my heart ache. “You didn’t have to come this late.”I force a smile, stepping closer and placing the stuffed bear on the small table beside her bed. "I wanted to see you. How are you feeling, Mom? Are the doctors saying you're getting better?"She sighs softly, offering a reassuring smile. "I'm doing okay, sweetheart. The doctors say it's a slow process, but they seem optimistic. Don't worry too much about me."Sitting down beside her, I take her hand, feeling the coolness of her skin beneath my fingertips. She squeezes back gently. “How’s work goi

ClaraIt has been a week since that encounter on the road with Anton Montgomery, but his words still echo in my head. A warning. A threat. I don’t know the full extent of what he meant, but I know one thing for sure—nothing good ever comes when men like him and Zachary cross paths.I sit in the audience, watching Ella walk confidently across the stage. This isn't just any rehearsal. It’s for Fashion Week, the biggest moment of her career so far. My phone buzzes, pulling me from my thoughts. It's none other than Zachary.Zachary: Where are both of you right now?I sigh. Lately, Zachary has been texting me about our whereabouts like some overbearing bodyguard. It’s a little creepy, honestly. The man is like a high-class stalker. Though, to be fair, considering that 'trouble' is practically his twin brother, I can’t blame him for being paranoid.Me: We’re in the middle of the Fashion Week rehearsal. I mean, Ella.He sees the message instantly, but it takes him a moment to reply. When he

ClaraBackstage at Fashion Week is pure chaos. Models dart between clothing racks, makeup artists wield their brushes like weapons, and hairstylists wrestle with last-minute touch-ups. The event director, a sharp-dressed woman with a headset practically glued to her ear, barks orders at everyone within a ten-foot radius. She’s the eye of the storm, holding everything together with sheer force of will—and a never-ending supply of coffee.Ella, of course, is in her element. She lounges in a chair while a stylist sets her hair in perfect waves, chatting animatedly with another model. If she’s nervous, she’s got an award-winning poker face.I, on the other hand, am only half-present. While making sure Ella’s dress isn’t wrinkled and adjusting the straps on her heels, my thoughts keep drifting back to dinner with Zachary two weeks ago.“Fashion Week goes on. Ella’s involvement goes on as well. I’ll just make a few adjustments.”What adjustments? The question has been bugging me ever since.