Semua Bab The Billionaire's Forgotten Night: Bab 51 - Bab 60

The faint antiseptic scent of the hospital clung to the air as Annabelle walked briskly down the corridor, her heels barely making a sound on the polished floor. The quiet hum of machines and muffled voices from distant rooms surrounded her, but all she could hear was the steady pounding of her own heart.It had been days since she last came here.Too many days, she thought bitterly, guilt gnawing at the edges of her chest. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Alan’s small face, pale but smiling, his big doe-like eyes always searching for her. And yet, she couldn’t be here as much as she wanted. She had to work, she had to earn — every penny mattered. His treatment doesn’t come cheap, she reminded herself, and I can’t afford to be weak.But last night, she’d finally untangled herself from the web Abigail, Brian, and Richard had unknowingly spun around her. At least for a while. For the next few days, they’d all be too busy licking their wounds and plotting their next move. Which me

Richard Barton had always been a man of control, a master strategist — and this time, he was done playing nice.Standing near the floor-to-ceiling window of his office, his sharp gaze cut through the glittering city lights below. One hand rested in his pocket, while the other gripped his phone tightly, his deep voice laced with authority.“I don’t care how you pull it off,” Richard said coldly into the receiver, his voice laced with quiet authority. “Everything needs to be in place within the next seventy-two hours. No delays. No excuses.”He paused, listening for a response, his gaze fixed on the glittering skyline.“Once I give the signal, we move. I want Abigail Hamilton exactly where I want her — no room for error. Make sure every loose end is tied up before then.”There was another pause, then a clipped, “Good.”Richard ended the call and slid the phone into his pocket, his expression unreadable, but the storm brewing in his dark eyes spoke volumes. Staring out at the skyline, hi

The van screeched to a stop, throwing Annabelle hard against the cold metal wall. She gasped, breath trapped under the hood, wrists raw from the ropes biting into her skin.Rough hands yanked her out, cold night air slapping her face as the hood came off.Annabelle blinked rapidly, taking in the dim yellow lights and the rust-streaked walls of an abandoned warehouse. Shadows stretched long across the cracked floor.“Welcome, ladies,” a tall man with a jagged scar said, voice low and gravelly.Another goon spun a knife lazily. “Boss says no time to waste,” he said with a wicked grin, eyes lingering on Annabelle. “But… maybe we have some fun first.”Annabelle stiffened, her breath hitching.“Touch me and you’re dead,” Abigail snapped coldly, chin raised. “I’m Richard Barton’s fiancée.”The scarred man laughed darkly. “Exactly. That’s why this is gonna be fun. Let’s see what the great Barton does when we break his toys.”Annabelle’s stomach dropped. “W-what do you want from us?” she stam

Two days later.The steady beep of the heart monitor filled the stark silence of the hospital room. The pale light from the window washed Annabelle’s face, making her look fragile, almost breakable.Richard Barton sat at her bedside, elbows resting on his knees, his large hand gently cradling hers. The mafia king, feared by the underworld, looked nothing like the ruthless man everyone knew. His jaw was tight, his usually sharp eyes glassy and rimmed red.His thumb brushed over her knuckles slowly, as if he could will her back to him.“This… this is on me,” he muttered under his breath, his voice rough, cracked. “I dragged you into this mess, baby… and now look at you.”He closed his eyes, exhaling a sharp breath as flashes of that night slammed into him.---Flashback — The Warehouse“I am not his precious woman!” Abigail’s scream sliced through the suffocating tension. Her mascara-streaked face twisted with panic, her voice shrill, desperate. She thrashed in the goon’s grip, heels sc

Samuel's jaw clenched. "Permission? She ruined Abigail's life, and I won't leave till that bitch—"The rest of his words died as Marc drew his gun and pressed the muzzle against Samuel's temple in one smooth motion."Watch your mouth," Marc growled, his voice low and dangerous. "One more word against her, and you'll be leaving on a stretcher."Samuel stiffened but forced out, "You... you won't shoot me here."Marc's glare was like ice. "Try me."Finally, Richard's deep, sharp voice cut through the tension without him even looking up. "Marc. Get him out."Marc shoved Samuel back, forcing him toward the door. "Step inside this room again without Barton's say-so," he warned darkly, "and you won't walk out."Samuel shot one last hateful glare at Richard — who didn't move an inch — before storming out, slamming the door behind him.Marc holstered his gun.Richard's thumb never stopped stroking Annabelle's hand as he muttered coldly, "Next time, you don't warn him."Marc's lips twitched int