All Chapters of The Billionaire’s Forgotten Wife: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

The Thorne estate was unnervingly quiet.Even with guards stationed on every floor and surveillance drones circling the perimeter, a sense of vulnerability lingered like fog no system could scan away.In the war room, Damon Thorne stood by the wall of monitors, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. Behind him, Juliette paced, scrolling through breach reports on her tablet with laser focus.“It doesn’t add up,” she said, her voice low but steady. “The executive floor plans of Thorne Tower leaked to Celeste’s legal team three days before the board vote. And this—” she turned the screen toward him, “—this internal transcript between you and your legal counsel? It’s practically verbatim. Word-for-word what you said behind closed doors”.Damon didn’t respond immediately. His stare remained fixed on the screen showing Mason asleep in the estate’s reinforced safe room, curled beneath a blanket and hugging his stuffed fox.Juliette pressed. “No wiretaps. No breached firewalls. No surveill

Morning light poured through the tall windows of Damon Thorne’s penthouse, bathing the interior in a false sense of peace. But nothing about this morning felt calm. Not the city below, not the tower of files on the glass table, and certainly not the man standing in the middle of it all—motionless, hands buried in the pockets of his slacks, eyes fixed on the skyline like it might offer him clarity.Behind him, Juliette moved with calculated precision. She flipped through breach reports on her tablet, each one worse than the last. Her dark eyes scanned line after line of digital carnage: funding freezes, hostile email threads, boardroom whisper campaigns. The pressure was suffocating, but she didn’t flinch.“They’re closing in,” she said finally, her voice even. “Three more investors pulled out this morning. The coastal expansion is frozen. Your emergency vote of confidence is set for tomorrow.”Damon didn’t turn. “They were always going to bail when things got hard. They weren’t partner

The lights of Manhattan burned dim beyond the penthouse windows, a city moving forward while Damon Thorne stood frozen in its wake. From the inside, the once-pristine war room looked like a battlefield: shredded reports, unplugged screens, and untouched scotch staining the edges of crystal tumblers. It wasn’t just chaos. It was the aftermath.And Damon was unraveling in its center.He didn’t speak as Juliette stepped into the room. Her eyes immediately fell to him still at the window, shoulders heavy, shadows under his eyes that hadn’t been there days ago.“You’ve been standing here all night,” she said softly.“I built something,” he murmured. “Stone by stone, sacrifice after sacrifice. And in the end, it’s all kindling for someone else’s fire”.“You didn’t lose everything,” Juliette replied. “Not yet”.He turned to her slowly. “They took the board. The company. The headlines are painting me as a fraud, a criminal. And Mason…”Juliette crossed the room. “Mason is still yours. He’s sti

The boardroom was ice.Not from the air conditioning or the glass walls framing Manhattan’s skyline but from the tension thickening the room like storm clouds moments before a downpour. It wasn’t just a corporate gathering, it was a reckoning cloaked in Armani suits and calculated expressions.Damon Thorne stood at the head of the obsidian conference table, no longer a man under siege. He was here to take back what was his.At his side stood Juliette, calm and unyielding, her eyes locked forward. Her presence alone shifted the balance of power—an unspoken warning that the woman beside Damon was no longer anyone’s pawn.Around them, the shareholders sat quietly. The legal teams clutched their digital briefs. Internal security lined the walls.And across the table, like a queen disguised as a cobra, sat Celeste.Draped in sapphire silk, lips painted with the calm of a woman who believed she couldn’t lose, she smiled.“This emergency session,” she purred, “was called at the last minute by

The air inside Damon Thorne’s penthouse was electric with unease.The video still played on loop: Daniel Hawthorne, very much alive, standing beside Celeste in a dim corridor like a specter raised from the grave.Juliette stood frozen, her hand pressed over her mouth. Damon hadn’t moved since the clip began. The man who had built his empire on control, precision, and dominance now stood blindsided; his father’s former ally, long presumed dead, now aligned with his greatest enemy.A ghost.A traitor.A man Damon once trusted with his family's future.Juliette broke the silence. “We need to verify this isn’t AI-generated”.Damon’s voice was low and certain. “It’s him. That voice… I’d recognize it anywhere”.His hands clenched at his sides.“They told me it was a plane crash. No body. No wreckage. I thought it was a tragedy. But it was a setup. A lie”.Juliette’s voice dropped. “Do you think your father knew?”Damon turned away, staring out the window as if the skyline could answer. “He d