Semua Bab The Billionaire’s Unexpected Love: Bab 41 - Bab 50

My heart stopped. A knife slid cleanly through the room. Silence followed—tight and immediate. I looked at Claudia, but she was already pretending it hadn’t happened. The marriage. She said the marriage. I saw one of the investors tilt his head, his interest piqued. “Married before?” John went still beside me. The sound of wine being poured echoed unnaturally loud. Claudia chuckled. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little mistake. We all make them, don’t we?” A warmth crept up my neck—hot, sickly shame—and I wished I could melt into the chair. Crawl under the table. Erase the part of me that ever trusted Claudia not to weaponize my past. John said nothing. He didn’t correct her. Didn’t stop the shift in tone or protect me from the gaze of men now trying to fit me into a different narrative. Just like he hadn’t stopped them before. Just like I wasn’t his to defend. After dessert, I slipped away. Not dramatically. Just enough.Back to my room, where I ripped the dress off and sto

May’s POV Something had shifted in John. It wasn’t loud—not the kind of shift you’d hear in slammed doors or raised voices. It was colder than that. Precise. As if he’d stopped reacting and started investigating. He began asking small questions. Soft ones. The kind that seemed like passing conversation… if you weren’t listening closely. “Did your mother mention where she was staying before she got here?” “Does she know the layout of the mansion? I caught her near the wine cellar yesterday.” And then yesterday morning, after one of those long, tense board calls, he’d muttered something under his breath that still rang in my ears: “Everyone plays a role in this house. I’m done pretending hers is harmless.” I didn’t ask what he meant. I already knew. That afternoon, the house was unusually quiet. Saint was off with his piano tutor, and I had just finished reviewing his reading log in the study. I made my way down the corridor to return one of his sketchpads he’d left behind… whe

May’s POVI didn’t plan to do it publicly. I wanted it to be quiet—dignified, maybe even merciful.But by now, I should’ve known that dignity and mercy were luxuries I could no longer afford.She was in the foyer when I came down. Claudia. Hair perfectly pinned, pearls at her throat like they were earned and not borrowed, speaking to Mrs. Whites with that fake, syrupy tone she reserved for people she didn’t respect but needed.I didn’t pause. I didn’t blink.“Get out.”Her head snapped toward me. “Excuse me?”I stepped down the last few stairs, slow and steady like my bones were made of rage.“You heard me,” I said. “Pack your things. Leave this house. Leave me.”The silence that followed made even the staff freeze.The butler vanished. Saint, thankfully, was already at school. Only John remained at the end of the hallway—watching with arms crossed, unreadable. But he didn’t interrupt. Not yet.Claudia tried to laugh. “May, you’re not thinking clearly. You’re upset—”“I’m clearer than

May POVI stared at it for a long while, the words like ice beneath my skin.Clicking on the folder didn’t open it. Password protected. But it showed a few visible filenames:•“Recording_041”•“Statement_Final”•“Valentine_Celeste_Decoy”•“Adrian - Meeting”•“Boardroom 6PM”It read like a coded breadcrumb trail. Like Lena had known something.Maybe everything.John would need to see this. I told myself that. Over and over.I found him in his study, sleeves rolled up, typing something on a conference call. When he noticed the flash drive in my hand, he ended the call without hesitation.“This was hidden in Lena’s old jewelry box,” I said. “Saint gave it to me.”He sat up straighter, voice unreadable. “What’s on it?”“Encrypted files. Folders labeled with dates. And one called ‘If something happens to me.’” I paused. “John… it looks like she was documenting something. Or maybe… someone.”His expression didn’t crack, but something flickered behind his eyes. “Did you open it?”“

May’s POVThe next morning when I tried to access the contents on the flash drive, The folder—“LENA_FINAL_1”—was gone.Not renamed.Not hidden.Gone.My hands moved quickly, double-checking the external flash drive. Refreshing. Digging through properties. I searched system logs with the desperation of someone who wanted the world to tell her she was imagining things.But it was real.Someone had deleted it.I found John in the east library, curled into one of the velvet chairs with a tumbler of scotch. The fire behind him made his silhouette look like it was edged in amber.“You went into the flash drive,” I said, more accusation than question.He looked up, frowning. “What?”“Don’t play dumb,” I snapped. “The folder labeled LENA_FINAL_1—it’s gone. It was there two days ago.”John sat up, placing his glass down carefully. “I haven’t touched it.”“Really?” My voice rose. “Because ever since I found that drive, you’ve been shutting down every concern I’ve raised. You don’t want to belie