All Chapters of The Billionaire’s Forgotten Wife: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

The Thorne Corporation boardroom was colder than usual not just from the sterile glass walls or the clinical LED lighting overhead but from the silence that crept between the executives like a poisonous fog. Damon sat at the head of the table, shoulders squared and jaw tight, but beneath the surface, a storm churned inside him. He had built this empire from the ruins of his youth; carving his legacy with grit and vision. But lately, it all felt like sand slipping through his fingers. Evelyn stood at the far end of the room, poised, radiant in a crisp white suit, her gaze sharp as a scalpel. She spoke with the calculated authority of someone who knew she was slowly winning.“Effective immediately,” she said coolly, “all financial decisions over five million dollars will require dual approval. In light of recent instability, this measure is in the company's best interest”. Damon’s fingers curled around the polished wood of the table. Dual approval?. She’d disguised it as fiscal prudenc

Juliette’s heels echoed through the marble lobby of Thorne Enterprises, each step a declaration of war. Her coat billowed behind her, soaked at the hem from the cold drizzle outside, but she didn’t stop. Not for the curious eyes watching her. Not for the warning looks from security. She knew where to find Evelyn Thorne. Top floor. East wing. Private executive suite. The glass elevator hummed as it ascended, carrying her higher into the lair of the woman who had turned their world upside down. The woman who had threatened her child. Juliette’s fists clenched. This wasn’t about fear anymore. This was about fury. The moment the elevator doors opened, she strode down the corridor, ignoring the assistant’s startled gasp. “Mrs. Thorne is in a meeting—” “She’ll want to make time for me”. Juliette flung open the double doors without knocking. Evelyn sat alone, facing the skyline, sipping tea from a bone-white porcelain cup. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t even look surprised. “How dra

The storm had settled into a relentless rhythm, each drop hammering against the windshield like the frantic beat of a heart. Damon gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles pale under the strain, while Juliette sat beside him, her eyes darting anxiously across the rain-streaked windows. Their silence was not from peace, it was thick with worry, guilt, and unspoken truths. They’d driven through half the city already. Every street. Every alley. Every place Mason had ever giggled, pointed, or clutched their hands with wonder in his eyes. Juliette’s fingers trembled in her lap. “He’s only seven, Damon. It’s dark. It’s raining. What if—” “Don’t.” Damon’s voice was tight. “Don’t go there. We’re going to find him.” She nodded, but the panic building in her chest didn’t subside. Her mind replayed the moment he ran. His small body disappearing into the shadows. The sound of his name echoing uselessly behind him. “He said he left his teddy in the rain,” she murmured, almost to herself.

The morning sun filtered weakly through the clouds, but it did little to warm the icy tension between Damon and Juliette. Since Evelyn’s confession the night before, neither had spoken more than a few clipped words. The secret bank account tied to someone powerful enough to destabilize Damon’s empire still echoed in their minds. Now, they sat in silence across from each other in Damon’s private study. The room was dim, shadows stretching long across polished mahogany and old photographs. Damon held the locket between his fingers like a relic, its weight heavier than gold. The numbers etched inside had led to a long-dormant offshore account. But what had truly shaken him was the name attached. A name buried in memory and presumed gone forever. “Uncle Elias,” Damon murmured. Juliette lifted her head. “You never mentioned having an uncle.” “Because I thought he was dead,” Damon said quietly, eyes never leaving the locket. “He vanished when I was sixteen. No note. No explanation. Just

The morning after the confrontation with Evelyn had left Damon restless, pacing his office like a caged lion. The storm from the night before had passed, but the unease lingered. Rain still trickled down the windows, soft and rhythmic, as if mocking the chaos that refused to settle inside him. Juliette stood by the window in his office, arms folded, watching the streets below. The city was awake again, unaware of the firestorm ripping through the Thorne empire. The locket now sat in a sealed bag, awaiting further investigation, but the implications of what they had found were already sinking in like a knife between ribs. The door opened. Victor Crane — Damon’s longtime attorney and confidant stepped in with his usual calm demeanor. Silver-haired and sharp-eyed, he had been with Damon since the early days of his father’s reign. He was the one person Damon had never questioned. Until now. "You asked to see me?" Victor said. Damon motioned him in without turning. "We need to talk. P