All Chapters of Marrying The Domineering Billionaire In My Sister’s Place: Chapter 181 - Chapter 190

Sylvester’s POV.The news came all at once, a storm of phone calls and messages that left me sitting in silence afterward, hardly able to breathe. First came the call from the police. My house arrest had been lifted. They no longer had reason to hold me. My name was cleared. They had a new lead, and Henry was now their main target. Then came the call from the board secretary. My position as CEO had been reinstated. The members who had conspired with Henry were being removed, stripped of their influence, one by one. For a moment, relief rushed through me. I could breathe again. The weight I had carried for weeks seemed to ease, but before I could even settle into that feeling, another call came, and everything changed. My grandfather had woken up. The words echoed in my head as if they had been spoken in another language. He was awake and well. The man who had raised me, the man whose voice had been silent for so long, could speak again. My relief turned to unease. I wanted to

Natasha’s POV.The hospital trips became their own punishment. Each time we entered my grandfather-in-law’s room, I felt like an actress playing a part I did not deserve. I laughed when I was supposed to, I held Sylvester’s hand when his grandfather’s eyes were on us, and I leaned close when we were meant to look united. But every touch was empty, every smile strained, and every laugh sounded hollow to my own ears.I hated myself for the lies. I hated that I could not be honest with the man I had once loved with all my heart. I wanted to pull him aside, to beg for his forgiveness, and tell him that I still belonged with him. But fear kept me still. Fear that if I spoke, he would turn away and never look back, and I would lose even the fragile pretence that kept me near him now.“Natasha, pass me the water,” his grandfather would say, and I would rise quickly, grateful for the distraction.“Of course,” I would answer softly, pouring a glass and handing it to him with a smile that felt

Natasha’s POV.I was exhausted in every way a person could be. My body felt heavy from the moment I opened my eyes in the morning, and my chest carried a constant weight that refused to leave.Living with Sylvester like this, pretending in front of his grandfather, carrying on as though nothing was broken between us, was slowly draining the life out of me. Each day felt like a performance, one that demanded too much of me, and I was running out of strength to keep playing the part.The worst part was the sickness. My stomach churned more often than not, twisting in ways that made me clutch at myself when no one was looking. My head ached constantly, my body ached too, and I could not remember the last time I slept through the night without waking to the sound of my own thoughts. I wanted to tell Sylvester, to at least say that I was not well, but I knew his reaction already. His cold eyes, his angry silence, and his refusal to even look at me with any softness. He would not care.

Mr Mason’s POV.The night stretched long and heavy, and though I had tried to close my eyes and rest, sleep would not come. I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the steady tick of the clock on the wall, each sound pulling me deeper into my worry. My body was tired, but my mind would not settle.The image of the panic in Sylvester’s face as he carried Natasha in his arms wouldn't leave my mind.I had never seen him like that before. He was always proud, always controlled, but that night he looked like a boy again, desperate and afraid of losing something he did not know how to hold onto.I tried to reach him after he left for the hospital, but his phone went unanswered for hours. Each ring with no reply deepened the knot in my chest. My hands trembled with the phone pressed to my ear, and I muttered prayers under my breath, begging God to keep her safe. For all their troubles, for all the pain between them, I did not want to see her life in danger. And I did not want

Natasha’s POV.When I opened my eyes the second time, the room felt softer, as if someone had lowered the world’s volume so I could breathe. My head still ached, but it was a different ache now, not the hard panic that had pushed me under; this was the soft ache of being mended. The light came through the curtains in warm strips, and for the first beat of consciousness, my thoughts floated between sleep and the memory of hands on my face, of a voice that had said my name like a prayer.Sylvester sat by the bed, exactly where I had left him in my dream. He had not moved. His shoulders were hunched but not with anger. There was a gentleness about him I had not seen for a long time. He looked tired, but he looked like he belonged there.When he noticed I was awake, a small sound escaped him, like a man who had been holding his breath for months and had finally let it out. “Natasha.” His voice was careful, as if any sudden noise could shatter the moment.I reached for him and found hi