บททั้งหมดของ Bride of the Billionaire Beast: บทที่ 211 - บทที่ 220

[One Hour Earlier] Max stepped out of the SUV with her heart in pieces. She understood that Liam was hurt, but that was one thing. Not standing up for her when his own father was attacking her like that? That was something else entirely. Damn that old man. He hadn't even waited out of basic decency or gratitude before betraying her. Garrett Harrington wasn't some innocent victim. He deserved every threat, every attempt on his life. The only shame was that Murray was going after Liam instead of going straight for his head. Still, there was nothing she could do now. Liam was a grown man. He'd been warned, trained, and now had bodyguards. There was nothing more she could offer him. And if he didn't want to see the truth, then... "Damn it! I'm so done fighting!" she muttered, exhausted. She walked into the house to grab a few things and put her escape plan into motion. Of course she had one. She always did. The closest exit was scheduled to leave in three days, and it was a one-w

He had to find her. Liam felt like he could barely breathe from the rage, the helplessness, and the overwhelming guilt. He couldn't stop thinking that if he'd just kept a cooler head for one moment, she'd still be here. "We have to find her!" he shouted. Thorne and Weston exchanged a worried look. "We could… we could try contacting some friends in the military police," Weston muttered. "I'll talk to one of our guys and see if we can trace her phone—though chances are, it melted in the fire." "Do whatever you have to do, but we need to find her as soon as possible," Liam said, feeling a tight pain start to creep into his chest. The two bodyguards got to work, making dozens of calls, pulling strings, cashing in favors—but no one had even a hint of where Max might be. "The military police were coming to look for her, but..." "You think she might've been arrested?" Liam asked anxiously. "...But I don't think that's what happened," Thorne finished. "I just talked to a co

Her whole body hurt, like every cell was rebelling against her. Somewhere beyond, there was a light—distant and cold, way too cold. Max didn't want to go toward it, but her consciousness stirred as those hands shook her body. "Max... Max... you have to wake up... Max...!" She opened her eyes with a jolt, and the light was no longer far away—it was right above her. She shivered when she realized where she was: lying on a cold metal stretcher, naked, with only a sheet over her. Her hair was damp, and the place reeked of cleaning products and disinfectant, but she couldn't see clearly because the lights were too bright. Surgical lights. White. Her breathing turned shallow and she clenched her teeth with a groan of pain. "Slow down, you have to breathe slowly," said a voice beside her, making her tense up—until she realized her hands weren't tied. She wanted to get up, react, but the pain was too much. "My chest... it hurts so much..." she murmured. "I know. I shot you three ti

The only good thing about not knowing if it was day or night was that Max needed to sleep—and she could. Sleeping was better than thinking. Inside that little space, she had everything she needed. She ate very little, only what she craved, and the nausea pills had helped a lot. It also helped that the cargo ship was so massive it barely moved at all. She only knew what day and time it was from her phone's calendar, but sometimes, around four in the morning when everything was still, she'd sneak out to get some fresh air and look at the ocean. The twelve days were long and grueling. Max kept wondering how Liam was doing, if he ever thought about her, but she knew Travis had been right—so long as Liam didn't know anything about her, he wouldn't be a threat to Alcott. He'd be safe. It was around two in the morning when the ship finally docked in Norsethorne. Max heard the shouts of the crew and the captain giving orders: everyone was to rest. No one would be moving cargo at that hou

[Two Months Later] Max took a deep breath as she climbed down the narrow little stairs and closed the trapdoor behind her. It was eleven o'clock on a weeknight. Another cargo ship had arrived in the port of Norsethorne earlier that day, and in two more it would depart for Novenhrad. It was always the same process: the ship docked, and after two intense weeks at sea, the crew went straight to the inn to drink. The ship was left completely unguarded—because really, who would be crazy enough to rob a business that brought so much income to the town? Max made the most of it every time, sneaking out to grab what she needed—more food, medicine, batteries. That night, she'd also taken a few books because boredom was driving her insane, and now she was making her way back to her little hideout. Her belly had barely grown in those two months, so she was probably still in her first trimester. Luckily, the nausea had passed, and the fatigue was slowly fading too. The bruises were gone, and