All Chapters of The Billionaire’s Forgotten Bride: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Maxwell POVI’ve grown used to my mother’s voice—sharp, polished, heavy with expectation. It used to slice me open when I was younger, when I was desperate to impress her, to earn even a flicker of approval. But somewhere along the line—somewhere after Amelia, after the lies, after the funeral, after the silence in my chest grew louder—I stopped reacting. The nagging, the insults disguised as concern, the disappointment she wore like jewelry… none of it pierced anymore. It just washed over me like rain on stone.I know she blames me. For the company. For the chaos. For the decline. For the shame. And maybe she’s right. Maybe I am everything the headlines say. Careless. Lost. Unfit to lead. But the truth is simpler than anyone wants to admit: I’m tired. Tired in a way that no sleep, no therapy, no empire could fix.When Amelia died, something in me simply shut down. And I didn’t fight it. I let it happen. I let myself sink. Maybe I wanted the world to move on without me. Maybe I wanted

Amelia POV Ethan stood beside me, his presence sharp and controlled, like a blade disguised in a tailored suit. The woman who had collided with me just moments ago shrank under the weight of his gaze, her confidence evaporating as if someone had pulled the air out of her lungs. Without another word, she turned on her heels and hurried away, heels clicking too loudly against the marble floor. Silence stretched between us for a moment. Ethan’s eyes moved from the retreating woman to me and then to Luke, who was still clinging to my leg. “Are you both okay?” His voice softened, the earlier coldness melting into concern. I nodded, smoothing Luke’s hair. “We’re fine.” Luke peeked up at Ethan. “She was mean,” he whispered. Ethan sighed deeply and crouched to ruffle Luke’s hair. “Then she’s not worth thinking about, buddy.” As he stood, I watched him carefully. A small prickle of intuition tapped at the back of my mind—nothing sharp, nothing alarming. Just… something. The woman’

Ethan POVMorning sunlight spilled across my office, bright and blinding, but nothing inside me felt clear.Not after last night.Not after what Claire said.I’d been sitting at my desk for almost an hour, a contract open in front of me, pen in hand—But I hadn’t written a single damn word.All I could hear was her voice.“I want to go back to Switzerland.”“I want peace.”“I have to protect Luke.”Every sentence hit me harder today than it had last night.And the more I replayed it, the more I realized…She wasn’t wrong.Since she arrived in my world, danger had followed her like a shadow—Break-ins, kidnappings, threats, stalkers—And now this woman in diamonds.Chloe.The name I hadn’t said in almost five years.I exhaled sharply, leaning back in my chair. I knew Claire had every right to want safety. I knew she had every right to demand it for Luke. Hell, I wanted it too.But uprooting our lives?Walking away now?I’d fought five years to claw my way back into this city, to earn t

Sylvester POVAnger had always been my closest companion.It sat heavy in my chest as I walked down the hallway, Luke’s small weight resting against my side. The boy was quiet now—too quiet. His wide eyes darted around the mansion, confused, afraid. Good. Fear taught obedience early. Claire had failed to learn that lesson, and now she would pay for it.I did not look back at the bedroom door I had locked her behind.I could still hear her screams echoing in my head. Her fists pounding uselessly against solid oak. Her voice cracking as she begged for her son.Begging never moved me.Ungrateful girl.I laid Luke gently on the sofa in the east sitting room and motioned for the nanny to come forward. She hesitated, her eyes flicking nervously toward me.“Take him upstairs,” I ordered coldly. “He will stay in the blue room. No visitors. No questions.”“But—sir—Mrs—”“Do not test me,” I snapped.She paled instantly and nodded, scooping Luke up as he clutched his bear tighter. He looked back

Ethan POVThe meeting room in Bamako was too quiet.I sat at the head of the long glass table, my executives still talking—numbers, contracts, expansion timelines—but their voices blurred into meaningless noise. My pen lay forgotten between my fingers as my gaze drifted to the dark screen of my phone.Claire still hadn’t called.I checked the time again. Late afternoon. I’d been done with the meeting for almost an hour now, yet I hadn’t moved from my seat. Normally, I’d be eager to wrap things up, to call her the moment I had breathing room. No matter how angry she was at me, no matter how heated our arguments became, Claire always picked up my calls.Always.The argument replayed itself in my head like a cruel loop.Her standing by the window, arms crossed tightly over her chest.Me, frustrated, distracted, saying things sharper than I meant to.Her eyes—hurt, disappointed, resigned.“I just need you to listen for once, Ethan.”I hadn’t.I chose work. Again.My jaw tightened as guilt