《Claimed by the billionaire 》全部章節：第 141 章 - 第 150 章

Elizabeth POV One thing I absolutely hate about going out with Christian is the staring. People gawk at him like he’s some untouchable god who walked out of a dark fairy tale, and it pisses me off every single time. Tonight was no different. We were at one of the most exclusive five-star restaurants in New York, the kind where the lighting is soft gold and everything smells like money and truffles. Christian had picked out this short red bandage dress for me earlier — the kind that hugged every curve like it was personally offended by fabric. I felt sexy in it… until the staring started. The waitress hovered way too close to him after taking my order. She leaned in, pressing her body against his arm, bending low enough that her cleavage was practically in his face. “What would you like, sir?” she asked, voice all sweet and breathy, completely ignoring me. Christian didn’t even look up from his phone. “Ask my wife. She knows what’s best for me.” A smug little smile tugged

Elizabeth POV “Hello, beautiful daughter-in-law.” The words slithered through the air like poison, freezing me where I stood. My mouth fell open in a silent gasp. Paul Reed — alive, breathing, standing right in front of me like some nightmare that refused to die. I blinked hard, once, twice, three times, desperately hoping my eyes were playing cruel tricks on me. But no. He was real. His face was a map of scars now, deep jagged lines cutting across his skin like someone had tried to carve him up and failed. He leaned heavily on a wooden cane, his posture twisted, but his eyes… those eyes were the same. Cold. Calculating. Evil. “You…” A broken sob tore out of my throat before I could stop it. Daniella immediately started wailing in my arms, her tiny body curling tighter against my chest as if she could feel the danger rolling off him. Liam tugged frantically at my free arm, his small fingers digging in with panic. “Mum? Mum, what’s wrong?” “I thought… I thought you were…,”

ELIZABETH POV “Now… let’s move to the second part.” Paul’s voice stayed calm, almost conversational, like this was just another business meeting. He gave a small signal to one of the men in black. The guy stepped forward holding a thick envelope. Paul took it, opened it with slow, deliberate movements, and held up what was inside. Tickets. “You know what these are, right?” he asked, waving them lightly in front of my face. I stared, throat tight. “Tickets.” “One-way tickets.” He fanned them slightly, letting me see the quantity. “For you. Your children.” He paused, the corner of his mouth lifting. “And the one who isn’t here right now.” My whole body went rigid. Hope. He meant Hope. “Where is she?” The words came out fast and sharp before I could stop them. “What did you do to her—” “Relax.” He waved a hand. “She’s safe. Of course.” Another pause, deliberate, well-timed. “Until you do what I tell you.” I clamped my mouth shut. Forced myself to breathe. “Of

Elizabeth POV It’s been two weeks since Christian died, and none of it feels real yet. I keep waiting to wake up. Waiting for the moment when the nightmare ends and he walks through the door with that half-smirk on his face, calling me Red like he always did. But every morning I open my eyes in this tiny, suffocating room and the truth hits me again like a fist to the chest. He’s gone. Really gone. And I helped kill him. Three days after we got here, the shock took our unborn baby too. The doctor at the rundown clinic spoke in quiet, careful English, telling me my body couldn’t handle the grief. That I would lose more if I didn’t get help. I just nodded, signed whatever papers they put in front of me, and went home. Help? What kind of help could fix this? My kids are the ones who need saving. Not me. Daniella still doesn’t understand. She walks around the small apartment asking “Papa? Papa?” in her sweet, broken little voice every single day. Most times I freeze. I just sit th

ELIZABETH POV It’s been two months since Paul had threatened me for reaching out to Tessa, it had become almost impossible to even think about contacting anyone else. Every time my finger I think about creating a fake page or reaching out, his warning echoed in my head. I wondered if Alexander was trying to find us, turning over every stone in New York. I thought about Luca too — how he must be taking Christian’s death. He and Christian had grown so much closer after Paul went to prison the last time. Luca regretted testifying against his brother during that trial. He had been clueless tom, he had no idea what their mother went through. He believed their father had changed when he took that stand. The irony of it all still stung. Christian gave him a second chance, welcomed him back with open arms, and became the most amazing uncle to our kids. I had hoped for something similar with Jessica… but look where that blind trust had landed us. I was at the auto workshop, sorting t