บททั้งหมดของ The Billionaire's Forgotten Night: บทที่ 101 - บทที่ 110

Sunlight spilled through the half-drawn curtains, painting the room in a soft golden hue. Birds chirped outside, but inside Barton Mansion, the only sound was the faint rustle of sheets and the occasional groan of someone clearly regretting her life choices.Annabelle squirmed under the blanket, her head pounding as though a construction crew had set up camp inside her skull. “Ugh…” she mumbled, burying her face into the pillow. Her tongue felt dry, her throat scratchy, and for some reason—her entire body felt heavy.Then came the voice.“Well, look who finally decided to rise from the dead.”Her heart stopped. That voice. That deep, annoyingly calm, teasing voice.Her eyes flew open—and there he was. Richard Barton, in all his morning glory, standing near the window with a coffee mug in one hand and that smug smirk plastered across his face. He was still in his white shirt from last night, sleeves rolled up, collar open, hair slightly tousled—looking far too good for her liking.Anna

Morning sunlight spilled through the soft ivory curtains, painting the room in shades of gold and calm. Annabelle stood by the balcony, fingers curled around the cold railing as the soft breeze brushed her hair across her face. The scent of rain from last night still lingered, mingling with the fresh bloom of roses below.For the first time in years, her heart felt still — no tension coiled in her chest, no weight pressing on her shoulders. The house that once echoed with chaos and deceit now felt… peaceful. Finally.Her brows knitted as she thought of everything that had happened. Britney. The name itself used to tighten her chest. But now? Now it only felt like a bad dream she’d finally woken from.That woman had tried to wreck her life again and again — poisoned her peace, dragged ghosts like Julia and Abigail back into her path, even tried to harm her son. And yet, in the end, karma had caught up. Britney sat where she belonged — behind those cold iron bars.She was gone. The Hami

The morning sunlight filtered softly through the tall windows of the Barton estate, spilling across polished floors and golden accents. The mansion smelled faintly of fresh roses, white lilies, and a trace of vanilla from the bakery corner where delicate pastries were laid out for the wedding.Annabelle stood in front of the full-length mirror, her fingers lightly grazing the lace of her dress. The gown was a soft ivory, embroidered with delicate pearls that caught the light like tiny stars. Her dark curls were loosely pinned, a few tendrils framing her face, and a thin diamond-studded veil cascaded down her back. Her makeup was subtle — a flush of rose on her cheeks, a soft gloss on her lips, and eyes that shimmered with quiet emotion. Her breath caught every time she looked at herself — not out of vanity, but disbelief that this moment was finally real.Richard entered quietly, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, watching her with that unreadable expression he sometimes wore

The evening air hummed with laughter and clinking glasses. The garden had transformed into a dream — a canopy of fairy lights overhead, tables glimmering with gold-rimmed cutlery, and roses woven through crystal vases. The newlyweds sat at the head of the long table, Alan proudly perched between them, his small hands fidgeting with his bowtie again.“Alright, everyone!” Hazel’s voice rang through the soft music. “It’s time for something fun before dinner gets cold!” She jumped up, waving her hand dramatically. “We’re playing The Game of Hearts!”Groans and chuckles followed. Jordan leaned back in his chair. “Oh, here we go again. Every event turns into Hazel’s circus.”Hazel shot him a playful glare, folding her arms. “At least my circus keeps people awake — unlike your TED Talks on stock portfolios, Professor Boring.”The table burst into laughter, forks clinking and glasses shaking as even Richard bit back a grin.Hazel raised her chin with mock pride. “But don’t worry, folks, I won

It was gift time.Hazel presented hers first — a large, hand-bound scrapbook wrapped in silver ribbon and covered in pressed rose petals.Everyone leaned closer as Annabelle carefully untied the ribbon and opened the scrapbook. The first page held a candid photo of two teenage girls in mismatched uniforms - Hazel flashing a mischievous grin, Annabelle shyly smiling beside her. Below it, a caption read in Hazel's handwriting: 'Two strangers, one friendship that survived every storm.'Annabelle chuckled through a tight throat as she flipped another page - pictures of late-night study sessions, coffee-stained notes, and doodles of hearts and devil horns Hazel had scribbled all over their exam papers. There was a newspaper clipping of Annabelle's scholarship announcement, with Hazel's note beside it: "Told you you'd shine, genius."The next few pages captured milestones - their college graduation, their first cramped apartment, Annabelle in an oversized chef's hat from her internship, and