Semua Bab The Billionaire’s Convenient Ex-Wife : Bab 31 - Bab 40

It started with a scream that could have shattered crystal.Not from me.Not from any of the pampered guests still recovering from the chaos of my fall.From the head of security—a man who looked like he'd rather face a firing squad than deliver this news."The gift is gone."The words echoed through the east wing like a death knell, bouncing off marble walls and settling into my bones with the weight of catastrophe.Jules froze beside me, her hand instinctively moving to the weapon concealed beneath her jacket. I was still aching from my tumble down the stairs, my shoulder throbbing and my ribs protesting every breath, but this—this was so much worse than physical pain.This was betrayal with surgical precision.Dominic materialized in the doorway like vengeance incarnate, his perfectly tailored tuxedo somehow making him look more dangerous, not less. His eyes were burning with a fury so cold it could freeze hell itself."What did you say?" His voice was deadly quiet, the kind of cal

The gala should have ended hours ago, but victory has a way of stretching time like taffy, making every moment sweeter and more intoxicating than the last.I was sitting quietly in one of the velvet chairs in the east corridor, my body still aching from my tumble down the stairs but my spirit soaring higher than it had in months. The adrenaline from exposing Lydia and Delacroix was finally beginning to fade, leaving behind a satisfaction so deep it felt like sinking into warm honey.The remaining guests moved around us in small clusters, their voices hushed with the kind of reverence reserved for witnessing history being made. The air still crackled with the electricity of what had just transpired—the public destruction of two women who'd thought themselves untouchable, the elevation of a woman they'd tried to bury.That's when Dominic's security chief appeared, his face flushed and slightly breathless from running through the mansion.He looked straight at Dominic, his voice carrying

The mansion was still, wrapped in the kind of profound silence that only came after a war had been fought and won.The last guests had finally departed, their voices and laughter fading into the pre-dawn darkness like ghosts of the evening's triumph. Lights dimmed throughout the grand halls. The orchestra had packed away their instruments. The army of servers had cleared away the crystal and china that had witnessed my transformation from scandal to queen.And I stood alone in our bedroom, still wearing the red gown that had become my armor, my weapon, my declaration of war.The silk clung to my skin like a second layer of exhausted flesh, the weight of the evening's victories and revelations pressing down on my shoulders. My arms ached from holding myself perfectly composed for hours. My body throbbed with the memory of tumbling down marble stairs. My brain felt wrapped in cotton, fogged by champagne and adrenaline and the intoxicating rush of watching my enemies destroy themselves.

I woke to fire.Not the kind that burns buildings or destroys empires—the kind that tears through your body from the inside out, ripping apart everything you thought you knew about pain and leaving you gasping for breath that won't come.The cramping hit me like a freight train made of molten steel, starting low in my abdomen and radiating outward until every nerve ending in my body was screaming in harmony. I doubled over in the massive bed, my hands instinctively clutching my stomach as if I could somehow hold my baby safe through sheer force of will.Something was wrong.Terribly, catastrophically wrong."Dominic," I gasped, but my voice came out as barely more than a whisper. The silk sheets beneath me were damp with sweat, and when I shifted, trying to find a position that didn't feel like being stabbed with white-hot knives, I felt something warm and wet between my legs.Blood.So much blood.Terror crashed over me in waves so intense they made the physical pain seem almost seco

The beeping of the monitors had become the soundtrack to my new reality.Three days of lying flat on my back in this sterile hospital bed, watching the numbers on the screen that told me whether my baby would live or die. Three days of IVs pumping fluids and medications into my system, trying to flush out the poison that Blake had meant for another man but had nearly killed us both.Three days of visitors—Dominic, who barely left my side except when the doctors forced him to; Jules, who looked like she hadn't slept since the night of the gala; even some of the society wives who'd once whispered about me behind their fans, now bringing flowers and speaking in hushed, reverent tones about my "ordeal."But the baby was alive. Fragile, the doctors said. Touch and go. But alive.Dr. Martinez had been blunt about the prognosis during her morning rounds. "The oleander did significant damage to your system," she'd said, her voice professionally gentle but honest. "Your body is still trying to