All Chapters of The Billionaire’s Forgotten Bride: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Maxwell POV The night came faster than I expected as I stepped outside. Cool air brushed against my skin, but it did nothing to cool the fire building in my chest. Amelia’s eyes haunted me—the hurt, the questions, the doubt I had left behind in that bedroom. She thought I was pulling away, thought there was a vacuum between us. And she was right.But she didn’t understand why.The car’s engine hummed low as I drove, hands tight on the wheel, mind racing faster than the road ahead. Amelia thought I was heading to a simple meeting, maybe reviewing paperwork, or something else. She didn’t know this was far from ordinary. This was a war. And tonight, I had to see the lawyer.The office came into view, its lights stark against the darkened street. I parked, taking a long breath before stepping inside. The air was warm, thick with the scent of polished wood and old paper. The lawyer was waiting, calm, but with an intensity that always made me sit a little straighter.“We need to talk,” the

Amelia POV The silence of the room pressed against me like a weight. I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, the dim light spilling in from the lamp Maxwell had forgotten to switch off. It wasn’t just quiet, it was suffocating. My thoughts filled every corner, screaming questions I couldn’t silence no matter how hard I tried.Maxwell had left again, another meeting, another excuse. He never explained, never gave more than half answers. And yet, when I looked into his eyes earlier tonight, I saw something—something he was holding back. Something he refused to tell me.My chest tightened. Why does it feel like he’s slipping away from me?I turned on my side, pulling the blanket tighter around me, but the warmth didn’t reach me. All I could see was Victoria’s face, her cold smile, her venom hidden behind the elegance of her words. She wanted me gone—I knew it. And yet… a part of me couldn’t shake the fear that maybe Maxwell didn’t entirely mind her presence.After all, she was Lilia’s

Amelia POVRebecca’s words sliced through me like a blade. She is not your child… after you killed her.For a heartbeat, I couldn’t breathe. The room spun, the walls seemed to close in. My ears rang with the echo of her accusation, louder than my own scream, louder than the thundering of my heart.Killed her?My fingers trembled as they dug deeper into the teddy bear’s worn fur, my chest heaving in ragged gasps. The weight of Rebecca’s fury, her hand still tangled in my hair, felt like chains dragging me under.“I… I didn’t,” I stammered, my voice a whisper drowned by her rage. “I loved her, Rebecca. I would never—”Her grip tightened, yanking my head back until tears spilled from my eyes. “Lies,” she hissed, venom dripping from every syllable. “You don’t get to rewrite what happened that night. You don’t get to wear black and parade around as if you lost something that was ever yours. She died because of you, Amelia. Because of your carelessness. And deep down, you know it.”The room

Maxwell POVThe glass was heavy in my hand, heavier than the liquid swirling inside. I tipped it back anyway, letting the burn of whiskey scorch my throat as if it could sear away the memories clawing at me. But no amount of liquor could wash away the truth.Lila’s laughter haunted me. Her small voice, soft and eager, echoed in my skull, every sound a cruel reminder of what I had lost—what we had lost. The house was silent now, but silence had become my enemy. It amplified the guilt, forcing me to hear the echoes of that night over and over until I thought I’d go mad.I slammed the glass down onto the table, the sharp crack slicing through the quiet. My hand shook. My chest heaved. And still, the memory played on.The phone call. My voice raised. Amelia crying on the other end, her tone cracking with anger. The fight had been ugly, bitter words hurled like blades. I had accused her of things that now seemed trivial compared to what came after. But in my rage, I demanded her attention,

Amelia POVThe night pressed down on me like a suffocating shroud. Sleep didn’t come—how could it, when my entire world had tilted on its axis in the span of a single plastic stick and two pink lines? I sat curled up on the edge of my bed, my shawl wrapped tightly around me, the pregnancy test lying on the nightstand like a silent witness to the chaos unraveling inside me.The house was still. Too still. Every creak of the old floorboards sounded louder than usual, like the walls themselves were waiting for me to make a decision. My hands instinctively went to my abdomen again, resting there lightly. It was barely real yet. A handful of weeks, maybe. And yet… it was everything.Maxwell’s signature on those divorce papers flashed in my mind. Bold. Final. Detached. He had walked away without a backward glance, leaving me to drown in the wreckage of what we once were. And now, here I was, clutching the single thread that bound us still.No. I squeezed my eyes shut. This wasn’t his. Not a