All Chapters of Claimed by the billionaire : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Elizabeth POV Christian had told me to bake him cookies and bring them to his office this morning.
He’d been… different lately. Not cold, not cruel—just oddly attentive. Calling me Red for reasons he refused to explain. And then there was the box he’d given me two nights ago, sitting smugly on my nightstand—a box containing a single red thong. He’d asked if it “rang a bell,” as though I was supposed to have some epiphany. I didn’t. I had a few red thongs, yes, but I was certain he’d stolen this one from my closet if it wasn’t the one he removed from my ass. And the way he kept asking about my first time—as if he could hear the truth I wasn’t telling—it made my pulse race in a way I hated admitting. My feelings for him hadn’t lessened, not even slightly. Every time I promised myself I wouldn’t let him touch me, one look from him was all it took to make me forget my own rules. It was exhausting. Maddening. Addictive. So I stopped thinking about the future. I let myself live

Elizabeth POV He came in late,around midnight. I had been waiting, listening for his footsteps, but he never came to my room. Eventually, I gave in and went to his. I slipped into his bed, the sheets still cool, and waited. My eyelids grew heavy, and I was on the edge of sleep when the door finally creaked open. “You’re late,” I murmured, rolling onto my side to face him. “I got caught up with work,” he said, his gaze locking on mine—intense, burning, as if he could drink me in with his eyes alone. A small ache stirred inside me. Through the haze of drowsiness, I watched him loosen his watch, toe off his shoes, and peel away the day along with his clothes. There was something hypnotic about the way he moved, deliberate yet unhurried. He slid beneath the blanket, the warmth of his body seeping into mine, and pressed a lingering kiss to my forehead, wrapping his arm around my waist. My limbs and eyes felt heavy with sleep, but the night had provoked a desperate need to feel

Elizabeth POV Christian had only been gone four days. Four. Days. And yet it felt like four months. Or maybe four years. Time stretched endlessly without him—without his maddening presence, his sharp remarks, his way of taking up every inch of air in a room. The silence was unbearable. I was bored out of my mind and starting to wonder if talking to the houseplants would count as losing my sanity. So, I did the one thing he specifically told me not to do. I called the girls over. I could practically hear his voice in my head—stern, annoyed, commanding. Don’t let them near you when I’m gone, Elizabeth. But honestly? I needed them. I needed laughter, noise, anything to remind me I wasn’t living in some kind of luxury prison where the warden wore three-piece suits and smirked like the devil. We cracked open a few bottles and before long the sitting room had turned into our private karaoke bar. Billie nearly broke my eardrums trying to hit a Ariana Grande note, Tessa stole my mic t

Elizabeth POV It had been a week since Christian left. Seven long days. He only texted me once since the day he told me to touch myself on camera. And all I had from him was one text. Just one. I’ll be busy throughout the trip. At least he bothered to say something this time. But it didn’t soothe the ache gnawing at me. I needed to see her. My daughter. The thought had been clawing at me for days, and it wouldn’t let go. The ache to hold her, to breathe her in, had become unbearable. Christian wasn’t around, and this was my chance. If I didn’t take it now, I didn’t know when I’d get another. I padded quietly down the stairs, the cool marble chilling my bare feet, the weight of my decision pressing heavier with every step. Nana stood at the counter, slicing through vegetables with that sharp, no-nonsense rhythm of hers. The scent of garlic and onions filled the air, warm and homely, so painfully ordinary while my chest felt like it might split open. She didn’t look

CHRISTIAN POV And of course, the bastard was no one other than Adrian Lockwood. When I turned, Adrian Lockwood was cutting through the room, shoulders squared, his jaw locked like he wanted to break something. Preferably me. The audacity almost made me laugh. “Adrian.” My voice came out flat, bored, like I’d just spotted a stain on my suit. “Didn’t expect to see you here. Didn’t realize you had enough time on your hands to attend functions. Shouldn’t you be busy fighting that underage sex scandal case?” A muscle in his jaw jumped, and his grip tightened on the champagne flute like he might shatter it. all his life, Adrian Lockwood had only one obsession—me. Bringing me down, watching me crack. He wanted nothing more than to sit in that courtroom and stand as my father’s witness. To see me bleed. But I never gave him the chance. I cut him off at the knees before he could even open his mouth. Schemed, like I always did. And I won. Once, Adrian strutted through these roo