Billionaire Bentley's runaway princess のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 241 - チャプター 250

The café door swung shut behind Chelsea, the soft chime of its bell barely registering as she stepped out. She was done with her conversation with Chloe, and she already left before her.She walked into the dimly lit parking lot. The evening air was crisp, and the faint sounds of the city hummed in the distance. She clutched her purse tightly, her senses on high alert. That was because she noticed something.A shadowy figure lingering at the edge of her peripheral vision.Someone was following her.Chelsea didn’t quicken her pace. She refused to let fear show, but her mind raced. With every step, the sound of steady footsteps grew closer. Her car was just ahead. She fished her keys from her bag and pressed the unlock button. The faint beep echoed through the quiet lot.She reached her car, opened the driver’s door, and was about to slide in when a large hand slammed it shut with unsettling calmness. Her heart jumped as she spun around slowly, her wide eyes locking onto a man dressed

Bentley arrived at Nova’s house right on time, his car pulling up to the curb. Nova had been pacing her living room for the past twenty minutes, her nerves twisting her stomach into tight knots. She smoothed her dress for the hundredth time, hoping it struck the right balance between elegance and modesty. Bentley had assured her there was no reason to be nervous, but that did little to calm her. Meeting his parents—Charles and Olivia Sterling—felt monumental.A soft knock at the door broke Nova’s anxious pacing. She froze for a second before letting out a shaky breath and heading over. When she opened it, Bentley stood there, dressed simply in a crisp, dark sweater and well-fitted slacks that somehow made him look effortlessly put together. He held a bouquet of white roses in one hand, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips.“You’re going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep pacing like that,” he teased, handing her the flowers.Nova rolled her eyes, though her face flushed sl

It all started 32 years ago...The air in the doctor’s office was sterile and cool. Beige walls lined with outdated medical posters surrounded a single mahogany desk, behind which sat a stack of patient files and a rotary phone. A wide window let in slants of afternoon light. It smelled faintly of antiseptic and paper—a blend that Olivia would come to associate with bad news for the rest of her life.Young Olivia sat on the edge of a cushioned chair, her back straight, her manicured hands clasped tightly in her lap. Her dark hair, styled in the soft waves of the 1980s, framed a face that was striking in its beauty but lined with tension. She had dressed carefully for this appointment, a fitted blazer over a pastel blouse, a skirt that fell just below her knees but now the crispness of her appearance felt insignificant.The door opened, and Dr. Whitman stepped in, a folder tucked under his arm. He was a man in his fifties with thinning hair and a kind face, but today, even his expressi

The metallic click of the gate opening signaled Charles Sterling’s return to his house. The stately mansion stood quiet and serene, its windows glowing faintly in the evening light. As Charles stepped out of his car."Alright Harold, thank you for the ride," Charles said with a smile without directly looking at his driver's face.Harold bowed in respect and drove back while Charles made his way to the front door of his house.He adjusted his tie and approached, his shoes tapping lightly against the stone steps. Before he could reach for the handle, the door swung open, revealing a young woman he didn’t recognize.“Good evening, Mr. Sterling,” she said with a polite smile, her auburn hair neatly tied back, her demeanor warm.Charles stopped mid-step, his brows furrowing slightly. He glanced over her shoulder as if expecting to see someone more familiar. “Good evening… and you are?”“I’m Jane, sir,” she replied, her tone professional. “The new housekeeper.”Charles’s expression remained

Young Charles Sterling sat in his usual armchair, legs crossed as he skimmed through the day’s headlines. He had a habit of pausing every so often, letting his eyes linger over a particularly interesting article before turning the page with a decisive flick.Across from him, Olivia sat with a stack of glossy magazines on the coffee table before her. She leaned back on the plush sofa, flipping absentmindedly through the pages of a high-fashion catalog. Occasionally, she would pause to circle a pair of shoes or a statement necklace she fancied.Meanwhile Jane moved with quiet efficiency nearby, a damp cloth in hand as she polished the antique side table that stood beside Charles. Her auburn ponytail swayed lightly as she worked, her focus entirely on what she was doing. She was careful not to disturb Charles, though his sharp gaze did move toward her once when something fell off her hand.Olivia glanced up from her magazine, her gaze landing on Jane. She observed the younger woman’s flu