All Chapters of The Billionaire’s Captive Bride: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

I should’ve been asleep, but instead I was creeping down the hallway in my slippers, heart beating too fast for someone supposedly going for “air.” My steps stopped in front of Leo’s office.The door gave way with a soft creak. I slipped inside.His scent hit me first, faint cologne, smoke, and leather. His desk sat like a silent judge in the center. I hesitated only a second before pulling open a drawer.Files. Papers neatly stacked. I slid one out, skimming the page. Names. Codes. Locations I didn’t recognize. My chest tightened. I knew I shouldn’t look further. But my hand twitched toward the next file…Footsteps.I shoved the file back, slammed the drawer, and darted for the door.And nearly collided with him.Leo stood in the dim hallway, his gaze like a blade.“Couldn’t sleep?” His tone was calm, but his eyes burned into mine.“I… wanted some air.”“And your air,” he said slowly, leaning in, “was in my office?”Heat rushed up my neck. I looked away, scrambling for an excuse. Not

Before the betrayals and blood, there was warmth.Three families bound by dinners, business, and trust. The Lancasters, the Castellis, and Adrian Vega.The Lancasters were the polished ones. Their money stretched across industries — shipping, oil, real estate. But behind the glitter sat a shadow. They laundered money when it suited them, careful enough to keep it quiet but bold enough to enjoy the fruits.The Castellis were different. Sharp. Charming. Ruthless. Everyone knew what they were, yet they wrapped their name in velvet and class. They were the mafia, and they didn’t hide it.And then there was Adrian Vega, Nicole’s father. He ran an organization that straddled both worlds — influence, networks, men loyal to him across countries. Not dirty, not clean. But steady. He was the balance between the two extremes.For years, they had shared tables. Nicole, bright-eyed, ran through the halls with the Lancasters’ baby girl, Elara. Adrian kept the children close, always insisting they p

“Say that again,” his voice rumbled low, steady but lethal.Marcello’s jaw twitched. “Didn’t mean to interrupt, Leo. We were only… talking.”“That didn’t sound like talking.” Leo’s steps were measured as he closed the distance between them. His eyes cut straight through him. “Sounded like you forgot your place.”Marcello leaned against the wall, feigning calm. “Maybe I got tired of watching you treat her like something you own.”My chest tightened. My gaze bounced between them. “Marcello, stop…”“Don’t tell him to stop,” Leo snapped, his eyes cutting to me for only a moment before fixing back on Marcello. “He knows exactly what he’s doing. I want to hear him say it again.”Marcello smirked, a small laugh leaving his lips. “What difference does it make? You heard me. She heard me. You just don’t like that I said it in front of you.”Leo took a step closer. His movements were calm, deliberate, but I saw the way his hands curled, the way his jaw clenched tight enough to crack bone. “You’

Six months. That’s how long it had been since the oat allergy incident. I still couldn’t eat anything sweet without checking twice.A lot did change in 6 months, even more than I could count.Marcello had disappeared after our last argument. No note, no call, no trace. His absence gnawed at Leo more than he’d ever admit out loud.And then there were the attacks. Too many. Too close. Each one like a whisper at our backs. Bombs, bullets, poison. Always failing, but always reminding us someone out there wanted us gone. For months everyone muttered Nicole’s name, but she was nowhere.Still, life kept moving. My real family comes often now. We ate together without knives in hand. We talked. Sometimes, we even laughed. And me? I trained every day with Leo…knives, guns, self-defense. The girl who used to tremble in the corner was gone.This morning, though, I was just a girl in his shirt, padding into the kitchen barefoot.Mrs. Thornton glanced up from the stove, gave me a once-over, and pur

I was setting the cloth down, reaching to adjust the bandage on his ribs, when a soft hum broke the silence. It was his laptop screen flickering alive across the room, camera light blinking red.I froze.A call.Leo stirred faintly but didn’t wake. His lips parted, a quiet groan leaving him as he shifted into the pillow.Before I could think twice, I slipped off the bed and padded across the room. The name on the screen wasn’t a name at all, just static letters and a dark emblem I didn’t recognize.He always answered his own calls. But if I let it ring, it might wake him.“Castelli.” a calm controlled unfamiliar voice came through.I swallowed, forcing the lump down my throat. “This is his wife.”Silence. Then a chuckle. The kind that didn’t sound amused. “Interesting. I didn’t expect the little bride to answer. Tell me, Mrs. Castelli, is he home?”I tightened my grip on the edge of the desk. “Why do you need to know?”“I don’t repeat myself.” His voice was sharp but unhurried, like a