All Chapters of Owned by Billionaire: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

The name Vincent Thorne echoed in my head like a siren I couldn't shut off.It had always lingered in the periphery—his name whispered in tense talks and yellowed documents, said quietly as a warning. But now it was looming before me, and I could sense the threat in every syllable.Damian filled both of us a tumbler of scotch, carefully, in silence. We were seated on either side of his study table, the lamp below casting heavy shadows, crowded with secrets yet unsaid."He's interested not just in my father now," Damian uttered slowly after drinking his scotch. "He wants me. Us."I did not inquire as to why. I already knew. For love was ever something Damian would seek to safeguard. And that was now the biggest target." Oh, your mother relinquished him. How is this pertinent to what happened?" I asked.Damian leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his fingers laced tightly like he needed to keep his hands from shaking. “That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out. Vincent’s name isn’t in

Raven sat on the edge of the garden bench, fists tightened into a white, icy teacup. Elena's confession hung in the air, a palpable thing like the smoke of an unshakeable flame. The things she'd confessed during the last few days had burnt away the gossamer veil of authority she'd fought so hard to maintain. And still, she couldn't help but feel that there was more, behind closed doors and secret silences. She gazed up at the house, the high building which had previously seemed to her like a cage, but now a maze—every hall ringing with secrets, every room containing whispers of a past nobody so much as wished to own. A sound behind her, the crunch of gravel underfoot, caused her to tense. Her heart beat that fraction faster. "I knew you'd come around," Killian's voice was gruff and shot through with fatigue. "You've been trying to hide from me." "I needed time," Raven didn't look back at him. "To think." He circled around behind the bench and stood in front of her, his palms stuff

Raven stood before the tall mirror, fingers shivering as she tugged on the high collar of her silk blouse. The apartment was still, with the distant hum of the city outside the penthouse windows. Her face looked back at her—a woman who'd weathered storms and broken hearts, and who now harbored secrets and flames in her eyes.This evening wasn't an ordinary evening for supper. It was the first time she and Killian would ever spend an evening with Richard since the world began to collapse. Her father's deceptions haunted her, echoing in her mind like a ghost that clung to each of her moves. She had asked, had stripped away layers of lies, only to discover further rot beneath."Are you sure that you want to do this?" Killian's tone was deep, but she felt beneath it the inflection of protector, of warning. She leaned in the doorway, suit charcoal, tailoring faultless, its curve running him in smooth line, eyes never faltering from hers."I must do that," Raven replied, her voice gentle bu

The sun flooded through the penthouse's massive windows, warming the glossy marble floors with the powerful light of morning. Elena gripped the kitchen counter, her knuckles white, as she grasped a steaming cup of coffee that she hadn't even yet been able to take. Her gaze drifted, turned out the window to the city skyline, but her mind was far from the row of towering skyscrapers outside the glass.She didn't notice Killian creeping in behind her. The soft padding of his bare feet on the marble floor was soundless, yet she moved back away from his soft touch on her shoulder."You didn't sleep," he breathed, his voice rough with exhaustion.Neither of them had.Elena crept toward him, hunting for something in his eyes—a sorry, an apology, a crack of trust. But Killian's face, as it had so many times before, shut down to her, twisted her stomach into jagged u-turns. He wasn't shutting her out, not exactly, but he wasn't opening to her in the one place that counted."I couldn't," she br

The corridor was still—too still.Elena stood just beyond the study, her hand mere inches from the doorknob. Behind it, she heard the soft rustle of pages, the low murmur of Killian's voice. He wasn't alone. Beyond the door, a second voice—a soft, feminine voice—responded to his.She hadn't been listening in. She'd simply descended to say something innocuous to him. Now, now that she stands there in the doorway, her mind is a jumble like a torn-asunder storm strand by strand. Something in that woman's voice. Not teasing, not flirting—worse. Familiar.She slipped within the doorway.Killian stood behind his desk, elbows on the lip, leaning forward, his voice low to the seated woman. The instant the door was even remotely ajar, they both glanced up."Elena."Killian's head snapped up, his face impassive.The woman slowly swiveled around. It was Genevieve.Elena's breath caught. "What…what is she doing here?"Killian looked agitated. "She came to discuss. The foundation. She has document