บททั้งหมดของ RELUCTANT BRIDE FOR THE RUTHLESS BILLIONAIRE: บทที่ 201 - บทที่ 210

AUTHORS POVTwo weeks had gone by, two whole weeks and Pedro was still hospitalized.His sister, Regina had been try to reach him from Spain to know how he was faring, all to no avail.That very morning, he awoke with a start, the antiseptic smell of the hospital room filling his nostrils, it made him sneeze.It was cloudy that morning, the wind slanted through the slatted blinds, casting pelts of soft breeze across the room. For a moment, he lay still, studying the white expanse above him, trying to remember how he got here.His first thought was of the boardroom—the moment Tessa Moretti had produced that file and taken his seat. His vision had blurred, his chest had tightened, and the next thing he knew, he was on the floor, gasping. Then darkness. And now this.He turned his head slowly and saw the drip stand beside his bed, the clear bag of fluid feeding through the tube into his arm. A nurse had already drawn his curtains closed for privacy, and the soft beeping of the monitor

AUTHORS POV Tessa stood by the bedside, her boots planted firmly on the soft hospital carpet. The steady beep of the heart monitor filled the hushed room like a metronome of Pedro’s fragile life. Tubes and wires snaked from his body into the machines that kept him breathing and his blood pressure steady. She folded her arms and looked down at him. His fine hair was rumpled, and the colour had drained from his normally tanned face. He lay very still, eyes closed under heavy lids. She felt a flicker of something—pity, perhaps—but chased it away. “Give me one valid reason why I shouldn’t turn all these machines off,” she said, voice low but clear, as if commanding a thunder strike. “I thought you were the mighty Pedro Lorenzo. Why do you need all this to stay alive?” Pedro’s eyelids fluttered. He blinked awake, confusion clouding his gaze. For a moment he looked at her as though seeing a stranger in a stranger’s clothes. Then his eyes widened. “Tessa?” he croaked. “What are you

AUTHORS POV It was well past seven o’clock when Tessa finally set down her pen, the last of the day’s contracts signed and initialled. The glow of the late afternoon sun had faded into dusk by the floor-to-ceiling windows of Ramon Enterprises’ headquarters, and the flood lights of Monterrey were beginning to sparkle against the darkening sky. She rubbed her temples and leaned back, satisfied that their latest merger prospectus was airtight. Her phone buzzed on the oak desk. The caller ID flashed “HOME – EMERGENCY.” Her heart stuttered. She pressed Accept without a second thought. “Tessa?” The voice on the line was breathless—Marta, her head housekeeper. “It’s… it’s Dean. He’s been in an accident. Please, you need to get home right away.” “Where is he? Are you with him?” Tessa’s voice shook, the calm professionalism she carried all day vanishing in an instant. “We’re at the sitting room…” Marta hesitated. “But there’s someone else here.” Tessa grabbed her coat and purse. “I’m

AUTHORThe Monday was bland.Bits of sunshine slanted through the sheer curtains of Tessa’s sitting room, painting soft gold stripes across the carpet. It ought to have been a pleasant morning—one of those rare days when the calendar was mercifully empty of meetings and emails. Instead, the air felt heavy, as though something dreadful was waiting to break. Tessa could feel it; the sheer uneasiness that settled into a lump in her throat.Tessa sat at her kitchen table, still in her suit from a last-minute meeting at Ramon Enterprises. A cup of untouched tea sat by her elbow, steam long dissipated. Clarissa was across from her, scrolling through her phone, searching for news on an upcoming merger that might affect their social media strategy. The children’s laughter drifted in through the open window as Dean and Sofia played in the garden, their shouts of joy a welcome counterpoint to the anxious knot in Tessa’s stomach.A sharp rap sounded at the front door, echoing down the hallw

AUTHORS POVIt was a very gloomy morning , the sun had barely broken through the narrow windows of Courtroom 4 when Tessa arrived, her shoulders slouched but hollow with dread. It was the sixth week of the custody battle, and each hearing had chipped away at her confidence until now, when the final judgement would be delivered. Her lawyer, Señorita Lasandra, gave her a reassuring nod as they passed the subdued marble columns.Clarissa stood in the back pew, her hand gripping the edge of the bench. She caught Tessa’s eye and managed a small, encouraging smile. Near her, three social workers and the family court officer sat apart, silent witnesses to the mother’s agony.Tessa took a steadying breath, smoothing the drape of her navy skirt. She crossed the aisle and sat beside Lasandra, placing her leather briefcase on the floor. It felt impossibly heavy.At precisely nine o’clock, the bailiff announced, “All rise. His Honour, Judge Lázaro.”The courtroom stood as the judge entered, robe