PREGNANT and REJECTED by the BILLIONAIRE のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 121 - チャプター 130

Lyra's POV Twenty-eight minutes.I stared at the countdown timers on the screens, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. Two people I loved more than life itself, and I could only save one of them.I had to move. Standing here wouldn't save anyone.Elena's men had cut the zip ties on my hands before leaving me alone in the funhouse. She wanted me to be able to run, to try, to hope. The cruelty of giving me just enough freedom to torture myself with choices.I looked at the park map Elena had left on a table nearby. The hall of mirrors was marked in red on the north side. The bumper cars were marked in blue on the south side. Between them lay a maze of broken rides, collapsed buildings, and overgrown pathways.But there were other markings on the map. Small symbols that looked like puzzles or riddles. Elena hadn't just hidden my family, she'd created a twisted game for me to play.I grabbed the map and ran toward the exit of the funhouse. Outside, the abandoned amusem

Chris and Rhys's POV The abandoned amusement park loomed before them like a twisted nightmare, its broken rides casting eerie shadows in the dim light. Chris crouched behind a collapsed cotton candy stand, checking his earpiece one final time. "You getting a clear signal?" he whispered into the device. Rhys's voice crackled back from the opposite side of the park. "Crystal clear. I'm positioned at the south entrance near the old Ferris wheel. Place looks like a war zone." "Same here," Chris replied, scanning the area through his binoculars. "I count at least twelve armed guards patrolling the perimeter. They're dressed like the FBI, but something's off about their positioning." "Yeah, I noticed that too. Real federal agents wouldn't be so visible. These guys want to be seen." For the first time since learning they were brothers, Chris felt a strange sense of unity with Rhys. The revelation had been shocking, but right now it didn't matter. All that mattered was saving Lyra and F

Elena's POV Forty beats per minute. I watched the heart rate monitor with growing fascination as Lyra's pulse continued to drop. Her breathing had become so shallow it was barely visible, and her skin was taking on a pale, almost gray tinge. "She's actually doing it," I whispered to myself. "She's stopping her own heart." Thirty-five beats per minute. My technician, Marcus, looked up from his computer screen with panic in his eyes. "Elena, if her heart rate drops below thirty, the machine might malfunction. We could lose control of both chairs." "Let it drop," I said, unable to look away from Lyra's face. She had her eyes closed, completely focused on her breathing or lack thereof. "But Elena—" "I said let it drop!" I snapped. "This is incredible. Do you understand what we're witnessing?" Thirty beats per minute. Chris and Rhys were both shouting at Lyra, begging her to stop, but their voices seemed distant now. All of my attention was focused on this woman who was willing t

David's POVThe helicopters circled overhead like mechanical vultures, their searchlights cutting through the darkness of the abandoned amusement park. I counted at least six aircraft, which meant Viktor had brought a small army with him."Dad," Lyra said, her voice shaking. "You need to explain everything. Right now."I looked at my daughter, seeing Margaret's determination in her eyes but also something harder, something I recognized from looking in the mirror for twenty years. The willingness to do whatever it takes to protect the people you love."Twenty years ago, when your mother and I faked our deaths, we didn't just disappear," I began. "We built something. An organization designed to protect our family and others like us.""What kind of organization?" Chris asked suspiciously."The kind that operates outside the law because the law had been bought and paid for by people like Viktor," I replied honestly. "We became criminals, Lyra. Because sometimes being a criminal is the onl

Ciara's POV*Fifteen years ago - Dublin, Ireland*I was twelve years old when Viktor Kozlov found me digging through garbage bins behind a restaurant, looking for scraps of food. My real name wasn't even Ciara O'Sullivan back then - it was Katya Petrov, and I was just another orphan on the streets of Dublin after my parents died in a car crash."Little girl," Viktor had said in his thick Russian accent, "you look hungry."I remember backing away from him, terrified of this large man in an expensive suit. But he didn't grab me or threaten me like the other men who sometimes noticed street children.Instead, he knelt down to my level and held out a warm sandwich."My name is Viktor," he said gently. "What's yours?""Katya," I whispered."Beautiful name. Are you alone, Katya?"I nodded, too scared to speak."Would you like a home? A family? Someone to take care of you?"I stared at this stranger who was offering me everything I'd lost. Looking back now, I understand it was manipulation.