Semua Bab The billionaire virgin wife: Bab 11 - Bab 20

Isabella woke before dawn.The sheets were warm, but her skin felt cold, too many shadows still lived under it. Her dreams had been a blur of voices and ash. Russian winters and broken gates. Her mother’s voice calling her name from behind a locked door.The clang of metal. The echo of her own scream that never made it past her lips.But then, another voice had slipped in.“You’re not safe. Not without me.”Damian’s voice.Even now, in the quiet before sunrise, it lingered in her ears like a vow he hadn’t meant for her to hear. She touched the place on her arm where he’d held her the night before. Not roughly. Not forcefully. Just enough to say—I’m not letting go. Ever.She sat up and padded barefoot to the glass wall of the penthouse. The city blinked below like a million restless eyes. Somewhere out there, people were waking up to normal mornings. Coffee and communication. Laughter in kitchens.She hadn’t expected this. Not the safety. Not the fear. And definitely not… him.Not Damia

The past is never deadIsabella didn’t remember how she got back to the executive floor.Her feet moved, her hands opened doors, but her mind was still trapped in that surveillance room—haunted by that frozen image on the screen. The snow. The barbed wire. The girl sprinting in terror.And the man who stepped out of the black car.Damian Knight.Her boss. Her protector. The man whose name had become the only stable ground beneath her feet.Was he the same man from that winter?Her thoughts collided. Her memories shattered into pieces she couldn’t fit together.She reached her desk and collapsed into her seat. The office buzzed around her, phones ringing, assistants typing, conversations going on but it all sounded distant, as if submerged in water. She kept her eyes on the monitor in front of her, but saw nothing.Her mind was spinning. What did that man say?“You think you just met him at Jaxon Corp?”No. That couldn’t be true. She had escaped from Russia on her own—hadn’t she?Excep

Isabella didn’t run this time.But the silence in the penthouse was louder than any scream she could’ve let out.She hadn’t even realized her hands were shaking until she fumbled with the doorknob of the guest room and had to brace herself against the wall. The familiar scent of vanilla and amber, the soft fragrance Damian insisted on diffusing in every room, felt like a betrayal now.She stood in the dark for a moment, not turning on the lights. Her fingers grazed the fabric of the curtains, the velvet armchair, the smooth mahogany of the dresser, grounding herself in everything real—everything not a lie.Then she crumpled to the floor.But not to cry.No, those tears had dried up a long time ago. Maybe in Russia. Maybe on the plane to New York. Maybe the first night she’d stayed here and realized she had no memory of the man who stood at her door like a ghost from someone else’s life.She sat there, knees tucked under her chin, as the echo of Damian’s voice rang in her mind:“You di

The city outside glowed like spilled treasure beneath a velvet sky, every light a promise or a lie, shimmering against the glass like memories she couldn’t quite escape.The car ride back from the courthouse had been quiet, not with awkwardness, but with something heavier—like the silence between two strangers who had just crossed a sacred line and weren’t sure what to do with the pieces.Isabella clutched her fingers in her lap as Damian steered the car with quiet precision. The wedding band on her finger glinted faintly under the passing streetlights, delicate and perfect and entirely surreal. An unfamiliar weight reminding her of the decision she’d just made.Wife.The word was heavy. Alien. Powerful.She was someone’s wife now.Not out of love. Not out of passion. But protection.Security.A contract.She hadn’t imagined the moment would come like this—without flowers or music or lace. Just a courthouse, two signatures, and a silence too thick to cut through.Not love. Not fairy ta

He’s no longer afraid to break her rules… gently.The night air inside the penthouse was still, almost reverent, like it was holding its breath along with her.Isabella stood outside Damian’s study for what felt like an eternity after to knock and enter, Her hand hovered over the doorknob, her thoughts racing louder than any storm. Her pulse throbbed in her throat. She wasn’t sure if it was bravery or foolishness guiding her steps tonight, but something inside her had shifted since the ceremony—something raw, aching, and ready to unravel. Ready to explore.She opened the door.Damian sat behind his sleek black desk, illuminated only by the glow of his computer monitor and the golden lamp on the corner. He didn’t look like the ruthless billionaire the tabloids painted him to be. Not in this moment. Not with his jacket off, his tie loosened, Not with his shirt rolled up and his expression unreadable. He looked calm and peaceful.When he saw her standing there in nothing but the blush