All Chapters of Claiming the billionaire ceo genius baby: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Alistair and Belle sneaked past the guards stationed outside the enemy's secret base in the dark. The moon made a silver path through the sky. Its black walls disappearing into the gloom, the vast compound was a fortress veiled in shadows and secrecy. Sharp and analytical, Alistair's eyes searched every inch of the perimeter, muscles coiled like a leopard poised to pounce. Steady but strong, Belle's heartbeat pounded in her ears. Alistair's voice was low, strained with tension as he said, "Keep close." Every action was calculated and intentional as his massive frame leaned against the frigid stone wall. Belle matched his speed; the leather of her jacket creaked gently, yet they went like ghosts, invisible and silent. Damp concrete's fragrance mixed with a little machine grease and something metal, danger. Belle's fingers stroked the uneven surface of a crate, the grain penetrating her skin and anchoring her. The tiny thread holding everything together let her feel the weight of what

Alistair's breath was shallow, every intake harsh and shallow, as a blurry swirl of shadow and faint light obscured his world. Heavy like storm curtains, his eyelids twitched. But in the haze, one unrelenting voice sliced through: Belle's gentle, consistent rhythm. Stay with me, Alistair. Keep your eyes open. Though he hardly heard her, the sound drew him nearer to the surface. Weakly against her palm, his fingers trembled in a frantic attempt to grasp something genuine. "Belle...", he said, voice broken and weak as if mentioning her name alone may destroy him. "Why now?" Belle's breath hitched; under his touch, her own heart thudded excruciatingly. "I never stopped loving you," she said softly, her voice cracking in spots. His eyes fought to open, swimming with agony and bewilderment. Though seemingly dull compared to the fire in her stare, the clinical white of the hospital room shone too bright. You... why? His speech stumbled, memories scattered in the haze of trauma. “You we

"We're not just fighting for Alistair's memory," she stated quietly but firmly. We are battling for his heart. For the truth that has been taken. Jaxon, the strategist, folded his arms. Lucy's impact is more profound than we thought. She has taken root in areas we cannot observe. Belle's jaw tightened. Then we excavate her. Then we excavate her. No more shadows. A younger man, tall and energetic, nodded. I have accessed several of her networks. Her hold is getting tighter. Belle urged, advancing, "We have to move fast." Every hour we wait gives her another opportunity to change his narrative. Alistair's name floated in the air, a thin thread binding them together. Belle's eyes softened momentarily at the mention, fingers clenching around a photo of them, smiling, living, entire. You believe he will recall? A voice from the rear muttered. Always wary but faithful, Belle looked towards the questioner, a close friend and valued comrade. Belle shot back vehemently. "Something insid

The glow from the screens flickered against Theodore’s sharp features, casting his face in hues of blue and green. His fingers danced rapidly across the keyboard, eyes narrowing as lines of code unraveled before him. “There’s more going on than we thought,” he muttered, his voice tight with urgency.“More than just memory loss?” asked Maya, sitting close, her concern etched in every wrinkle of her brow.Theodore glanced at her, then back at the screen. “Much more.” He clicked, pulling open a hidden folder labeled Project Forget. “This isn’t accidental. It’s deliberate.”Maya’s breath caught. “You mean someone’s been messing with Alistair’s memories?”“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Theodore’s jaw tightened. “And Lucy’s fingerprints are all over this.”The room grew heavy with the weight of the discovery. Outside, the city’s neon lights hummed, indifferent to the secrets being uncovered in this small apartment.“I knew something felt off,” Maya whispered, reaching to steady Theodore’

Alistair's breath caught as a sweet voice twisted through the darkness, just above a whisper. Alistair He fluttered open his eyes, his chest rising and falling irregularly, a chilly sweat dripping off his skin. Though the antiseptic medical room looked far away from the delicate sound, it remained hauntingly present. Stretching a quaking hand forward, he fingered the dense void next to him. Belle? His voice broke, almost inaudible. The stillness was dense and unrelenting in response. Sitting up slowly, the acute stinging of memory—or its absence—cutting deeper than the chill. Where are you? His voice was hoarse and frantic, the solitude gnawing through the stillness. His eyes flitted over the white walls, the monitor flicker, the low mechanical hum. Shadows danced, curling into forms that nearly matched her figure, smooth curves, a touch of laughter, warmth caressing his cheek like a sweet breeze. Reaching out, though, it disappeared, leaving only the name's echo on his lips. Be