Все главы Claiming the billionaire ceo genius baby: Глава 21 - Глава 30

Icy spoken, he said to the executive, "Excuse me." We will have to carry on with this later. A jolt of fire rushed through her shoulder, robbing her breath. The agony was acute, perhaps too acute. Her breath seized and for a little moment she couldn't even grasp what had occurred. The only thing she could sense was the excruciating heat sweeping across her body like wildfire. Her eyesight wavered, her legs turning to jelly under her, and she gasped. Her knees gave way. Unable to prevent herself from falling, she slowly fell to the ground. Her fingers sought for anything to grasp, but the glossy marble floor was too far. The jagged edge of the floor gnawed into her skin as her body fell like a ragdoll. Though there was something more awful, something different, the bullet's agony was blinding. The chill of the floor penetrated her, but it was not strong enough to dull the suffering gnawing at her head. Gasping and fighting for breath, her chest heaving with the strain and her pulse

Gabrielle's voice sliced through the stillness like a sharp knife. You are wrong. Alistair tensed, his mouth clenching at her comments. Wordlessly, he turned to confront her, his eyes black with unexpressed anger. His voice tight, he said, "I'm doing what has to be done." I will locate who caused this. I will see to it that they suffer. Gabrielle moved nearer, her face a blend of worry and annoyance. Alistair, do you really believe this fanatical quest will give you peace? Though her voice softened, her comments struck more forcefully than any charge. You're just digging your own grave. Her gaze never left Alistair, Gabrielle studied him intently. Tall and imposing as always, he stood there, but the fissures in his normally impenetrable front were obvious. Belle's illness was weighing on him, the guilt driving him crazy; she could tell he was coming apart. Haven't you always believed that control was the solution? Though sharp, Gabrielle's voice was steady. But see where it has l

"I was never allowed to love anyone," he said again, his voice dropping and a hint of remorse seeping into his words. Not even you. Belle sat quietly, taking in Alistair's admission's gravity. Every statement echoed through her, distorting her view of the guy she had known, the man she had loved. His face contorted with sorrow and rage as she observed him intently. Raw and exposed, devoid of the control he clung to so fiercely, this was a side of him I had not seen before. "My father... he never gave me a choice," Alistair said, his voice strained as if the words were fighting to break free. Fighting the overpowering wave of feeling threatening to engulf him, his hands became white-knuckled fists. He ordered every aspect of my existence. The business, the marriage, the individuals I could rely on... all of it was his design. His might. Belle's heart sank. She had always understood that Alistair carried a weight, that the empire he built came at a great cost, but hearing him talk of

"You're here," he whispered quietly, moving forward to greet her. Low and heavy with their shared secret, Bernard spoke. Rugged with a sharp jawline and dark eyes that always seemed to be judging the world around him, he was a man in his forties. He had always been faithful to her, but now more than ever, his deeds would show whether that loyalty stretched deeper than simple obligation. Belle said, her voice strained with stress, "I had no choice." Though the dread of being found still ate at her insides, she had been getting ready for this day for weeks. I am prepared. You claimed you could assist me. Bernard nodded, his eyes darting anxiously to the passage's dark shadows. Everything is set up. You must believe me. That is the only approach. Belle was unsure. Bernard had been there when no one else had, therefore she wanted to trust him. But after hearing what she had from Rosalie, the fear of treachery was like a darkness hanging over every choice she made. Could she now genuine

She had left. The sheets twisted about his legs as Alistair leapt out of bed. His chest constricting, he breathed quicker. Stumbling out of the bedroom and into the corridor, his head spun. He had to locate her right now. He had to understand why she was missing, what had occurred. He didn't even recall when she departed, undetected slipping from his side. The memories of their last moments together were a muddle, the drunken haze of the night before still clouding his mind. But down inside, something primitive knew. She was gone; he was to blame. Rushing down the corridor, his eyes searching every corner and every shadow, his heart raced with eagerness as if expecting her to materialise out of nowhere. But there was no one. There was no one in the house. A voice crackled over the intercom just as he got to the stairs. "Sir, we found her car. She is no longer here. He felt a sinking in his gut. The words suffocated him, hanging in the air. She had fled. She had truly run. A floo