Início / Romance / A Twist of Fate with the Callous Billionaire / Capítulo 121 - Capítulo 130

Todos os capítulos de A Twist of Fate with the Callous Billionaire : Capítulo 121 - Capítulo 130

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Chapter 121 The Inheritance Trap

—Ethan’s POVSmoke. Blood. Screams.The east wing was gone.Ash rained through the hole where the roof had been. I could taste fire in my teeth. Hear the pop of timber snapping. One more second, and Sophia—She clutched the baby tighter against her chest, her eyes glassy from shock. My body had shielded hers from the worst, but her skin was singed. Her cheek had a burn mark the size of my palm.And still, she didn’t cry.But the child did.For the first time since he was born, his voice cracked open the air. Raw. Pure. Alive.We were all still alive.Barely.Then I heard it again.Maurice’s voice."Julian, come out! No point hiding in rubble. Not when we both know who’s next in line."Next in line.He still believed that mattered. That legacy was blood-deep and predictable.It wasn’t.It never was.“Sophia,” I whispered. “Stay low. Don’t move until I say.”She nodded, numb. But alert. Her eyes had turned hard. Focused. Like the fire re-lit something buried deep in her bones.I stood.

Chapter 122 Bloodlines and Ghosts

— Sophia’s POVI couldn't sleep.The cot creaked every time I shifted, and the concrete beneath it hummed with the cold of the earth. Vermont was supposed to be a ghost zone—no signal, no heat trace, no footsteps but our own. And yet, even here, I felt watched.I sat by the boy. My boy. Not some formula. Not a code or key or prototype.Mine.But Ethan hadn't said a word since I showed him the chain—the broken bangle. The same one I pulled from that sterile lab floor just before we ran.His face had gone…still. Not unreadable. Not cold. Just locked. Like whatever gears turned behind those eyes had started grinding too fast.“Ethan,” I whispered. “Say something. Please.”He looked at me. Just for a breath.Then at the baby.Then at the wall, like he could see through it. Through time.“The boy from the cage,” he said. “He had that bangle.”“Yes,” I murmured.“But I gave that to…to Aria.”My heart clenched. He said it like Aria was someone else. Like I'd been a ghost from another life.

Chapter 123 The Other Son

— Ethan's POVI couldn't breath properly as I watched how the little boy’s chest rose and fell, each breath shallow, uneven.His skin felt cold. I placed my hand on his wrist, his pulse fluttered under my fingertips like it was struggling to stay."I think he needs some heat," Sophia whispered, bringing his head against her chest, rocking slightly, stroking his damp hairs.Her eyes were wild with fear.Marcus was already moving, dragging the emergency blanket from the storage trunk. I shoved my jacket off, wrapped it around the kid, then added the blanket. Sophia didn't let the little boy go. She couldn't. I never planned on asking her to.He was more important now.I just sat close by there. My jeans had some dirt on the knees. I placed my fisted hand on my thighs. Just staring, blankly.This boy...this boy wasn't the one in the cribHe wasn't the one who cried at 3AM or smiled in his sleep. This boy was older. he looked marked, like he was chased, or even hunted. And somehow, he ma

Chapter 124 The Incarnate

— Ethan’s POV He wasn’t mine. I knew it the instant I touched him. His heartbeat, too calm. His reflexes, unnervingly fast. And the way he looked at me... like he recognized me from somewhere I hadn’t yet been. The boy who called me “Father” wasn’t Irene. Couldn’t be. Because my daughter was asleep in her crib across the room, her tiny fingers clenched like she was still fighting the world she’d just entered. She was barely five months old. Delicate. Real. This boy? He was something else entirely. “He’s not ours,” I murmured, the words barely escaping my mouth. “Not in the way we believe.” Sophia sat beside him, cradling him like she was holding a ghost. Her hair clung to her cheeks, damp with fear. Her eyes were rimmed red. “But he has your eyes,” she whispered. I shook my head. “No. He has someone’s version of my eyes.” Marcus was crouched by the door, still on high alert. The rifle in his grip had fallen silent, but his knuckles were tight and white. “He’s Subj

Chapter 125 The Breakout

—Ethan’s PovThe red light of the data card throbbed like a heartbeat—taunting, precise, insistent.Three… two…I didn't wait for a second.“Go!” I panted, already moving Sophia towards the back-up shaft entrance we’d spotted on our first night there. My son, Irene, was securely clipped to my chest in her carrier, tiny frame compressed against me, her breathing a gentle whisper. He struggled but didn’t shriek, God bless him.The boy—Subject A-17, or whatever his name would be—jumped alongside us with great agility for a boy so tiny. Marcus followed behind, rifle at the ready, every step deliberate, measured.Shadows came from the north tunnel. One. Three. And dozens.“Echo-One, visual confirmed—male, female, juvenile. Copy?” a voice crackled through the radio pinned to the dead beacon I now stomped beneath my foot.“Copy. Maintain perimeter. Do not fire until all assets are secure.”We ran.The tunnel closed in, darkness surrounding us as the rest of the chill morning light was absor

Chapter 126 The Echo And The Edge

— Ethan’s PovWe were ghosts in a grave.The old freight station creaked around us, rusted beams curling overhead like ribs in some long-forgotten skeleton. Everything stank of mildew and rot. Concrete walls, wet and aching cold. The kind of cold that slips under your skin and settles in your bones.The furnace coughed in the corner, weak and tired. It couldn’t fight the cold. Nothing could, not really.I sat on the floor. Irene was asleep on my chest, small and warm and completely unaware of the storm gathering outside. Her fingers curled tight into my shirt, like she knew that if she let go, the world might forget we ever existed.Sophia paced.Not panicked. Not exactly calm either.Her eyes kept drifting to the boy. No, not the boy anymore. He called himself Rhett now.He sat cross-legged on a faded blue tarp, hands resting on his knees like he was meditating — or listening. To what, I had no idea. Something deep, maybe. Something none of us could hear.There was something off ab

Chapter 127 Echoes In The Dark

—Sophia’s PovThe sound hadn’t left me.Even a mile out, I could still feel it.The explosion had carved itself into the sky, into the trees, into the marrow of everything around us. Birds scattered like smoke. The wind changed direction.But I didn’t look back.I couldn’t.If I turned…If I even glanced over my shoulder…I would shatter.Because the man I love just set himself on fire to keep us breathing.Our son whimpered, tucked against my chest, wrapped in so many layers he didn’t even look like a baby anymore. Just a shape. A heartbeat.I moved on instinct. One arm wrapped tight around him.The other clutching Rhett’s wrist to keep him close.His skin felt cold. Too cold. But he didn’t say a word.Didn’t trip. Didn’t ask. Didn’t complain.He hadn’t spoken once since we left the station.The trees thickened the higher we climbed.Everything above us glistened with ice.The wind howled through the valley, sharp and hungry.My legs were shaking, and my lungs burned with the cold,

Chapter 128 Thin Lines and Loaded Truths

—Ethan’s POVThe boy slept between us.Shallow breaths. One arm tucked beneath his head like he’d done it a hundred times before, ready to run the second the dream soured.My hand hovered near his shoulder.For a long time.But I didn’t touch him.Not yet.Not like a father.Aria did.She wrapped her arms around him, rocked gently. Whispered quiet nothings into his hair.Her hands shook.Her voice didn’t.The fire had burned down to red bones.Marcus stood at the door, back flat to the wall, rifle trained on the slit where someone had tried to kill the boy before he even had a chance to live.Irene lay in her cot. Frowning in her sleep.Too young to know what danger smells like.But I kept checking her anyway, just to see her chest rise. Just to be sure.Aria spoke again, like the words weren’t meant for me.Like they were meant for herself.“For all of us.”“He found us,” she whispered, voice catching. “Julian… he remembered.”Julian.My name. Not the one I built out of necessity. No

Chapter 129 No More Running

—ETHAN’S POVI didn’t speak.Not when the old floor groaned beneath our boots.Not when Sophia pulled the boy tighter against her chest, like she could will his heart to keep beating.Not when Marcus cracked the hatch open and that bitter, blood-soaked Vermont air came slicing in.The boy—wrapped in one of my coats, body slack, head tucked into Sophia like he was born there—still hadn’t opened his eyes.But he would.And when he did, I’d have to face whatever was looking back.Because it wouldn’t be a stranger.And it wouldn’t be a son.Not yet. Maybe not ever.It would be a question I couldn’t answer.And I’d have to pretend like I wasn’t terrified of what it might become.“Get in,” I said, nodding toward the SUV Marcus had hotwired from a boarded-up farmhouse ten miles west.Remote.Empty.A place no one cared about—perfect for men like us.Sophia hesitated. Looked from the boy to me. “Where are we going?”I slid the rifle into the backseat. Checked the GPS jammer again. Still hummi

Chapter 130 The Lie Beneath the Silence

—Sophia’s POVThe night didn’t bring sleep.Not for me. Not anymore. Not with so many truths pacing inside my head, teeth bared.Ethan lay in silence on the other side of the cabin—not asleep, just still. His kind of quiet was never restful. It was restraint. A barrier built from too many losses and too little time to grieve them.He thought silence could protect us.Maybe it could.But not from the truth.I sat on the edge of the bed, brushing a hand through Noah’s hair—soft, tangled, warm with sleep. He didn’t stir, except once, when he mumbled something about a white room, and gripped my wrist like it was the only thing holding him here.I didn’t let go.I didn’t tell Ethan, but something in me had already chosen.He was ours.Maybe not by law.Maybe not by name.But by something older. Wilder. More honest.Something like blood.I found Ethan at dawn.He was standing on the porch again. Smoking a cigarette he never lit. Just holding it like a habit, like a tether.The wind clawed

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