บททั้งหมดของ The Billionaire’s Forgotten Wife: บทที่ 21 - บทที่ 30

The silence within the hidden wing of the Thorne estate was deafening. Dust blanketed everything like a shroud over forgotten sins, and each step Damon took stirred the ghosts of memories too long buried. The air was stale, tinged with the faint aroma of cedar and decay. He hadn’t set foot here since he was a boy. It was as though this entire part of the mansion had been exiled from time. He paused outside a heavy oak door, its brass handle tarnished but familiar —very familiar. This was the room from his dream. The same fire-scorched wallpaper. The cracked mirror above the hearth. Even the sensation weight in his chest was identical. Damon’s fingers curled into a fist before he reached out and turned the handle. The door creaked open. Inside, dust motes swirled in the shaft of light spilling in from the hallway. The study was large but cluttered, as if someone had left it in haste. Stacks of books had collapsed on the floor, and the furniture, once opulent, now sagged under the wei

The late afternoon sun had softened into a muted gold as Juliette stepped into her boutique, the familiar scent of lavender and cedar-wood surrounding her like a fragile shield. Outside, the city buzzed with indifferent energy, but inside, a heavy silence settled, wrapping around her like a second skin. She’d spent the morning lost in a swirl of unease, a message still fresh and puzzling in her mind: Meet me at the café. I have information you need. – C. Celeste Whitmore. Damon’s fiancée. The woman who, until now, had seemed a distant, untouchable figure, the silent adversary in the shadows of Juliette’s fractured past. And yet here she was, asking for a meeting, promising knowledge about Damon’s accident and his lost memories. A truce, perhaps, or something more complicated. The thought of facing Celeste stirred a thousand conflicted emotions within Juliette —fear, resentment, suspicion. Yet beneath it all, a deeper truth pulsed stronger than any pride: she needed answers. For Maso

The rain had been relentless all morning, turning the city streets into a blur of reflections and muted colors. Damon sat in his home office, the sterile hum of his computer and the rhythmic tapping of raindrops against the windowpane the only sounds breaking the heavy silence. His thoughts churned with frustration and fear…….how much of his life had been deliberately erased? And who would go to such lengths to bury the truth? A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. Marcus Hale entered, trench coat soaked at the edges, a man built more for shadows than for polite introductions. A former intelligence operative turned elite private investigator, Marcus was known in discreet circles as “the bloodhound” — relentless, precise, and morally flexible when needed. He didn’t just uncover secrets - he unearthed them, even if they were buried under a thousand lies. He stepped inside with purpose, his usually confident expression now edged with concern. In one hand, he carried a slim f

The night air was thick with unease as Juliette stood outside her boutique, clutching Mason’s favorite blanket close to her chest. Her heart pounded relentlessly, each beat echoing the urgency of the situation. Mason was gone. The thought was unbearable, yet there was no time for despair.Behind her, the soft click of footsteps pulled her from her spiraling thoughts. Damon approached, his usually composed face drawn tight with worry and exhaustion.“Juliette,” he said quietly, voice rough with emotion. “We have to find him. Now.”Juliette met his gaze, the years of pain and mistrust flashing between them like a storm. But in that moment, none of it mattered.“We’re doing this together,” she said firmly.-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------They started with Mason’s school, retracing the boy’s last known steps. The principal, Mrs. Reynolds, was pacing nervously in her office when they arrived.“He disappeared just before dismissal”,

The wind howled through the abandoned train yard as Juliette crouched behind a rusted crate, heart pounding so loudly it drowned out her thoughts. The message had led her here, alone, against every instinct screaming to turn back.A flickering streetlamp overhead cast long, fractured shadows across the cracked concrete. Her fingers curled tightly around her phone - Damon’s number on standby, her thumb hovering over the call button.She couldn’t involve him. Not yet. Not after everything.She moved cautiously, the silence around her deafening, until a soft whimper reached her ears.“Mason?” she whispered.Another muffled cry.She ran.Juliette’s breath caught as she rounded the corner and saw him - tied to a chair, blindfolded, his small shoulders trembling.She darted forward, untying the ropes with shaking hands. “Mason, baby, it’s me. It’s Mama. You’re okay now. You’re safe”.He flung his arms around her neck, sobbing.But the moment lasted only seconds.A voice sliced through the si