The Billionaire’s Forgotten Wife のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 241 - チャプター 250

The first morning back at the Thorne estate dawned with the scent of dew and magnolia.Juliette stood by the tall windows in the master bedroom, her fingers curled lightly around the sheer white curtains. The estate had been restored beautifully; every corner repainted, every scorched frame replaced, every memory somehow preserved in new wood and polished stone. But it wasn’t the aesthetics she noticed. It was the stillness. The space between the walls.The hum of something familiar and sacred beneath her bare feet on the cool floorboards.Behind her, Damon stirred awake. She heard the shift of cotton sheets and the quiet sigh he made when he reached out and didn’t find her beside him. She turned slowly, just in time to see him rise – hair tousled, shirtless, eyes still hazy with sleep.He blinked at her. "You okay?"Juliette nodded, her expression unreadable. "Just... trying to remember how this place used to feel”.Damon swung his legs over the side of the bed. “And?”A pause.Then:

The morning sun broke through the arched windows of the Thorne estate, casting golden beams over the freshly restored wood floors. Outside, the manicured garden glistened with dew, and in the kitchen, the aroma of French roast coffee mingled with the light citrus scent of lilies Damon had placed in a vase on the marble island.Juliette stood at the sink, her hand rested gently over her stomach. She wasn’t showing yet, but the life growing within her carried a silent gravity – one that reached beyond the child itself. It was the inheritance she would one day pass on.It wasn't just the baby, or Mason — it was the question of legacy.Behind her, Damon entered, his eyes immediately falling on her. He watched her in silence for a beat, then approached and wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder."You're thinking again," he murmured.Juliette smiled softly, leaning into his touch. "I'm always thinking. But this morning, it's louder”.He turned her in his ar

The sunlight streamed in through the tall windows of the Thorne estate, casting long golden rays across the hardwood floors. It was early – too early, maybe for breakfast or plans. But neither Damon nor Juliette cared. For the first time in what felt like lifetimes, there was no war to fight, no memory to chase, no ghosts clawing at the edges of their peace. There was only stillness.And stillness, for two souls long bruised by fire, felt like luxury.Juliette sat by the kitchen counter, barefoot, wearing one of Damon’s old button-down shirts over her nightgown. Her hair was loose, soft curls grazing her shoulders, and a cup of chamomile tea rested between her palms. She wasn’t thinking about tomorrow, or what might go wrong, or what might be stolen again.She was thinking about how Damon was standing by the stove, barefoot too, flipping pancakes with a focus that made her heart swell. He wore a plain white T-shirt, gray joggers, and that familiar furrow of concentration between his br

The fire crackled gently in the hearth, casting amber light across the walls of the Thorne estate’s restored study. The evening outside had darkened into a velvety quiet, and the only sounds within the house were the occasional pop of the wood and the scribble of a pen against thick, ivory parchment.Juliette sat cross-legged on the oversized armchair, her bump nestled beneath a soft sweater, a pen resting between her fingers. Damon sat on the rug in front of her, a leather-bound journal open across his lap. Between them lay a stack of stationery, old letters, and a cup of chamomile tea gone cold.They had spoken about it for weeks. Ever since the vow renewal, ever since the rain fell and the world felt baptized anew, they knew the time had come to document their journey – the truth. Not for the press, not for the world, but for the children and the next generation."We don’t have to make it perfect," Juliette murmured, her voice soft but certain.Damon looked up at her, the corners of

It was early spring when the trees on the Thorne estate began to bloom again, brushing the air with soft pink petals and the scent of renewal. The breeze no longer carried heaviness; only the quiet murmur of life returning, roots settling deeper into the earth. And in the middle of it all, on the same wooden bench where a woman had once slept alone, three hearts now rested together – Juliette, Damon, and their daughter-Eden.The sky above them shifted from pale blush to rich gold, bathing the land in warmth, in peace. It was their anniversary – not just of their marriage, but of every moment that had led them here. The losses. The breaks. The miracles. The remembering.Juliette sat close to Damon, her hand curled around a small leather-bound journal, its cover worn from months of quiet use. She looked at him, eyes brighter than the dawn unfolding around them."I have something for you," she said softly, placing the journal in his lap.He raised an eyebrow, teasing. "Another surprise? Y