THE BILLIONAIRE'S DANGEROUS LOVE のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 61 - チャプター 70

Brenda's POV “I have evidence that could exonerate you, Brenda”I gasped, my heart pounding in my chest as Ralph's words sank in. Evidence that could exonerate me?I felt my breath hitch as a powerful wave of relief and disbelief washed over me. Could this be real? Could I finally clear my name?"Ralph," I whispered, my voice trembling, "what do you mean? What kind of evidence?"He exhaled, running a hand through his hair, his expression serious. "I found a private investigator," he said. "The same one Vivian hired."That caught me off guard. Vivian? My brows furrowed. "Vivian? What does she have to do with this?""She was already looking into Vanessa," Ralph explained. "I don't know all the details, but I know she had suspicions about her. The investigator had already started gathering proof, but I needed something solid, something undeniable. So I paid him—almost all the money Vanessa gave me—so he could finish the job and get the real evidence we needed. Evidence that proves you'r

Brenda’s POVThe hospital loomed ahead like an inevitable judgment day.Ralph and I walked in silence, our footsteps echoing against the sterile white tiles of the hallway. The air smelled of antiseptic, a cold reminder of pain and suffering. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure Ralph could hear it.We had agreed—this was the only way. Running was no longer an option. If we wanted a chance at clearing my name, we had to face the truth, no matter how terrifying it was.For Ralph, it was about reuniting with his family after years of estrangement. For me, it was about standing before the very man who wanted to see me behind bars and proving my innocence.A man who, as of this moment, still saw me as nothing more than a criminal.I swallowed hard as a nurse guided us through the corridors toward the ward. My legs felt like jelly, my stomach churning with unease.“Are you sure about this?” I asked Ralph under my breath, my fingers gripping the strap of my bag to stop them from shaking.R

Vanessa’s POVThe sound of my heels clicking against the marble floors filled the grand hallway as I walked into our mansion, shopping bags in hand. I had barely set them down when the front doors burst open with a violent force.A wave of officers in uniform flooded into the house."What the hell is going on?" I demanded, stepping back in shock.Before I could process what was happening, they swarmed the living room, guns drawn, voices firm. My pulse spiked. The air in the room felt suffocating."Vanessa Grayson, you are under arrest for attempted murder," one of them said, stepping forward with handcuffs in his grip.My mind went blank.“What?” I breathed.Before I could react, cold steel clamped around my wrists. The sensation was sharp, intrusive—completely unreal.My mother, who had been lounging on the couch, shot to her feet, panic flashing in her eyes.“Wait! This must be a misunderstanding!” she cried, rushing toward me. “There has to be some mistake! We can settle whatever t

Brenda's POVThe cool afternoon air brushed against my skin as I stepped out of the police station, but it did nothing to ease the suffocating weight pressing down on my chest. I was free. That was what mattered, wasn’t it? That I could walk out of that place without shackles around my wrists, without the burden of false accusations dragging me down?But if I was truly free, why did I feel so… empty?I crossed the street, my steps slow and unsteady, as if my body wasn’t entirely convinced that it was over. My emotions were tangled in a mess so complex I could barely make sense of them. There was relief, yes, but it was so small compared to the overwhelming sadness clawing at me.I had spent days fearing that I would never see the outside world again, terrified for my life . But what life? What was left of it now? My father—no, the man I had believed was my father—was gone. The family I thought I belonged to was never truly mine. my home, my security, my very identity had been ripped

Lucian's POVThe moment I pulled into the long, guarded driveway of my father’s estate, my grip on the wheel tightened. The place was as cold and intimidating as ever, a fortress of secrets and bloodshed.The two guards at the entrance stood like statues, their eyes scanning the vehicle as I rolled down the window. My muscles tensed, expecting some kind of resistance, some sign that they had recognized me as the one who had driven off with Mrs. Elizabeth that day.But nothing.They barely glanced at me before stepping aside, signaling for me to drive in.I almost scoffed.So they didn’t even realize that I had been the one behind the wheel that day? That meant my father hadn’t told them. Either he didn’t know himself, or he hadn’t cared enough to mention it.Either way, it worked in my favor.I parked the car and stepped out, my footsteps echoing against the marble driveway as I made my way to the grand entrance. My jaw clenched as I prepared myself for this confrontation.This time,