Semua Bab My Billionaire Ex Begs: Return with Our Triplets: Bab 71 - Bab 80

Elliot's P.O.V.“She said she wasn’t married…” Henry whimpered, shielding his face with his arms, his palms raised as though he thought they could protect him from me.Hearing that Christine hadn’t mentioned me stung. But what did I expect? We weren’t anything. Not anymore.“Let me make it clear for you, then.” I grabbed him by the hair and slammed my fist into his face again. His nose cracked under the impact. “Christine Ferris is my woman. And anyone who yells at her, I hit. Anyone who touches her... I kill. Got it?”Still holding his hair, I forced him to nod like a puppet before letting his head drop. It bounced off the floor with a dull thud.“Are you going to press charges?” Bernice asked gently, still cradling Christine like a child in her lap.“Press charges?” I scoffed, my voice heavy with the storm still raging in my chest. “You think I just want him to post bail and walk away? No.” I turned to glare at Henry, who was being helped to his feet, blood dripping from his fa

Christine's P.O.V.While Elliot was showering, I slipped out of the bedroom. He had told me to rest, but I needed to believe I could still go about my life like normal. I shuffled into the kitchen, poured myself a cup of coffee, and took a long sip to ease my pounding headache.That’s when I heard movement in the living room.I turned and froze.A man about my age peeked out from behind the couch. His hair was tousled, his face scribbled with colored markers. We stared at each other: me in shock, him in half-awake confusion.I slowly raised my coffee cup, ready to hurl it in self-defense, when he suddenly realized what I was about to do.“Wait—don’t!” he yelped, throwing his hands up like a human shield. But he knew it wouldn’t be enough. So, he ducked back behind the couch.“Elliot!” I shouted, my eyes scanning for something bigger to smack the intruder with. “Elliot!”I grabbed the coat rack and tiptoed toward the living room, peeking over the back of the sofa—and there they

Christine’s P.O.V.Lucas’s eyes darkened briefly, a flicker of something unreadable passing over his face. His lips pressed into a tight line, and I could tell that there was something he didn’t want to share. Before I could push him for answers, the kids swarmed him again, giving him the perfect excuse to dodge my question and hide behind their playful chaos.“What about Henry Belmont? What are you going to do about that bastard?” Elliot asked as we both watched Lucas collapse in the hallway with the kids piling on top of him. It looked like they were wrestling, but clearly, Lucas didn’t quite understand the rules.“What can I do?” I sighed, my voice trembling. “Apparently, every man in the modeling industry thinks it’s their right to take advantage of women. The only difference is how much power they hold, and I had the misfortune of crossing one of the powerful ones. Something tells me I won’t be able to find a single model for the runway show. I’ll have to talk to Serena and adm

Elliot's P.O.V.“Let me explain…” Lucas held up his hands, trying to stop me, but I brushed past him, heading straight for Christine.“Elliot! Wait!” he called, jogging after me. “She was really stressed and upset, and I just wanted to help her relax a little…” He trailed off, then groaned. “Okay, that sounds really bad too, but I swear—”The moment I stepped into the room, I realized Christine wasn’t in bed. Then, I spotted Lucas’s shirt on the floor. It reeked of vomit, and I heard noises coming from the bathroom.“You got her drunk?” I asked through clenched teeth. Strangely, he looked relieved.“Yes! That’s all I did! I swear!” he said with a hand to his chest and a wide grin. “I’d never touch what’s yours, Elliot.”I didn’t feel reassured, but it did lift a weight off my chest. I couldn’t bear the thought of Christine in another man’s arms—especially not his.I opened the bathroom door and found her hunched over the sink, rinsing her mouth, her eyes glassy and distant.“Yo

Christine's P.O.V."So, Bernice, how can I help you?" I asked with a polite smile—though it was anything but genuine—once we stepped into my office."I think the real question is how can I help you, Christine?" she replied, her confidence unnervingly steady although her smile was tight, almost brittle. Then, she pulled out a folder she had been carrying under her arm—the same one she had shown Elliot."I understand you’re having trouble with your models. They walked out on you, didn’t they? Luckily for you, I happen to be the director of one of the most prestigious modeling agencies in Europe."I took the folder, and when I opened it, I found detailed profiles for each of her models from their measurements, photos, and portfolios—the works."I get it. It’s cheaper to have your own girls, but nothing beats the security of an agency. If there’s one thing you can count on, it’s that I would never leave you without models," she added.That stopped me cold.No one outside my team kne