All Chapters of The Billionaire’s Forgotten Bride: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Victoria POVThe room felt like it was closing in on me.Walls lined with designer wallpaper and expensive art suddenly felt suffocating. Screens blared images of them—Maxwell and Amelia—on every channel, across every site. Laughing. Kissing. Holding hands like they were some goddamn royal couple.Charity Gala: The Power Couple of the Year.Is Amelia Cole the Next It-Girl in High Society?Maxwell Cole Defends Lover from Scandalous Barren Rumor—Fans Applaud His Devotion.Applaud?I flung the remote across the room. It crashed into the mirror, shattering both glass and my restraint.Applaud her for what? For being a parasite that latched onto my family? For seducing the father of my child and parading around in gowns while pretending to be his equal?I paced the room like a caged animal. My bare feet dug into the plush carpet. I didn’t care. The burn in my chest made it hard to breathe. Every headline was a slap in the face. Every picture, a dagger twisting deeper.He was supposed to re

Amelia’s POVI hated the way Victoria spoke to her.It wasn’t discipline. It wasn’t parenting. It was cruelty wrapped in red lipstick and false authority. Words like knives, flung carelessly, cutting into a little girl’s heart that hadn’t yet learned how to shield itself.I could still hear it—Lila’s small voice, trembling as she whispered, “Mommy yelled at me. She called me stupid.” The echo haunted me, louder than the gala music, louder than the whispers of reporters, louder than anything else in my head.And it wouldn’t let me rest.That night, after Maxwell returned from his endless board meeting, I couldn’t keep it in.We were in the kitchen. The city lights spilled in through the wide windows, scattering across the marble countertops. He loosened his tie, exhaustion dragging down his broad shoulders, but when his eyes found me leaning against the counter, arms crossed, he stilled.“Maxwell,” I said, my voice too sharp to sound casual.The way he looked at me told me he already k

Maxwell’s pov Patience was supposed to be my strength. But patience with Amelia was wearing into something sharper, rawer, every day. The house had become a battlefield. Every conversation with her seemed to circle back to one subject—Lila. And though I wanted to believe we were fighting on the same side, the way Amelia looked at me now, like I was the enemy, made my chest burn with equal parts anger and guilt. Tonight was no different. “You’re avoiding it again,” she said, her voice clipped as she stood in the doorway of my office. “You bury yourself in papers and strategy like this is some merger you can outwit. Meanwhile, Victoria’s tearing her down piece by piece. Don’t you see it, Maxwell?” I didn’t look up from the file I was scanning, because if I did, I might say something I couldn’t take back. “I see it. Every damn day.” “Then why don’t you do something?” Her voice broke, fierce and trembling. “She’s eight years old. Eight. Do you know what she asked me this mornin

Maxwell’s POV The air in the house felt poisoned. Amelia’s cries had shaken the walls, but it was the silence afterward that sank its claws into me. The silence wasn’t empty; it was alive, a suffocating weight pressing into every corner of the room. I shut the door to my office, pressing my palms against the desk to steady myself. My chest was heavy, my pulse a constant drumbeat in my ears, loud enough that I swore it could be heard through the walls. I told myself to think. To strategize. To be strong. To be the man who never faltered. Yet my hands betrayed me. They shook as I raked them through my hair, tugging hard, as if pain might steady me. But it didn’t. The tremor in my fingers wouldn’t stop. My composure—the shield I’d carried for years—was cracking. Then I saw it. An envelope. It lay on the rug near the door, pale against the dark wood. A foreign object in a room that should have been mine alone. No sound had warned me of its arrival. No footsteps on the marble. No

Amelia’s POVDarkness pressed against my eyes like cloth. My scream had ripped out before I could stop it, but now I bit it back, burying my face against Maxwell’s shoulder. His body was solid, rigid, his heartbeat hammering against my cheek.The house moaned with the storm. Every gust rattled the windows, every creak of the walls made it feel alive, as though it was breathing along with her. Victoria.I clutched his shirt with both hands. My nails scraped skin through the fabric. I wanted to believe him when he said he would not let her win. Yet the image of her smile across the window glass burned behind my eyelids. She was near. I could feel it in my bones.Maxwell shifted, pulling me tighter against him. His hand slid down my back with a roughness that was meant to comfort, but my body kept trembling. My throat was raw from holding back the sobs, from holding in my daughter’s name.Then I heard it again.The giggle. High. Sweet. Echoing through the vents like smoke curling through