All Chapters of The billionaire's secret vow : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

“I'm coming along whether you like it or not.” Zara shot as she barged into Damain’s office.“The hell you are.”Damian’s voice was pure steel. He didn’t even look up when Zara stormed into his office. Aria was hot on her heels, her hand gripping Zara’s arm in a futile attempt to hold her back.He had already shut down the idea, when she said she would come along, when he told them downstairs he had found where they took Jaxon to. This was something dangerous.Zara froze just inside the room, her eyes widening for a fraction of a second. The table in front of Damian was lined with guns—pistols, rifles, magazines, rows of ammunition gleaming under the sharp light. He was calm sliding a magazine into place with the practiced ease of a man who had lived in violence far too long.Aria stopped short too, her breath catching in her throat. Her gaze locked onto him—onto the guns, then back to his face. Shock carved her features, a hundred questions swirling in her wide eyes. But Damian didn’

The first thing Jaxon felt was pain. Dull and constant, aching everywhere like his body had been through fire. His throat was so dry it hurt to breathe, and his chest burned with every shallow inhale.For a moment, he thought he was still in that hellhole. Still tied and beaten.Then he felt it, a soft weight against his hand.He turned his head slowly, forcing his eyes open.It was Zara.Her head was resting on the edge of his bed, red hair spilling everywhere, her hand gripping his like it was her lifeline. His fingers twitched before he could stop them.Zara’s head snapped up. Her eyes widened seeing Jaxon staring at her. “Jaxon…” She gasped, then her voice broke. “Oh my God, you’re awake.”Before he could respond, she launched herself into his chest. Pain shot through him and he grunted, his body jerking. “Easy Red.”Zara pulled back immediately, horrified. “I’m sorry—I’m so sorry!” Her hands fluttered uselessly like she wanted to touch him but was afraid she’d break him more.The

Aria woke slowly, feeling the steady heartbeat on Damian’s chest against her back. His arm was draped securely around her waist, holding her in that protective way he always did—even in his sleep. She turned her head slightly, watching him. His features looked softer, almost boyish in rest. Handsome didn’t even begin to describe him. Peaceful, too—something she wished he had more of.Her chest swelled with a tenderness she didn’t quite know how to hold. She could have watched him like this forever.Then his lashes fluttered, and his dark eyes opened. Aria’s eyes widened in embarrassment, as he had caught her staring.“Good morning,” she mumbled.A lazy smile spread across Damian’s lips. “Good morning, angel.” He leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to her lips. “How are you feeling?”“I’m fine,” she replied softly.His hand slid down to her stomach. “And the babies?”“They’re doing okay.” Her lips curved. “Actually…I think I felt them kick last night.”His eyes lit up in a way tha

The living room was quiet, the kind of silence that pressed on Damian’s chest like a weight. He had thought he had seen and survived everything, betrayals, business wars, love turned to ashes. But nothing compared to what he was feeling now.The woman sitting on his sofa, her posture too calm for someone who had supposedly returned from the grave, carried his sister’s face. The same sharp jawline, the same amber-brown eyes he remembered from his youth, eyes that had once sparkled with mischief when she used to sneak sweets from the kitchen and dare him to keep her secrets.But those eyes now held something else. Weariness. Darkness. Secrets too heavy for one person to bear.Damian stood frozen, his knuckles white from how tightly he gripped the back of the chair in front of him. He wanted to cross the room, to drag her into his arms and demand to know why she had left him to mourn her all these years. He also wanted to shake her, to scream until his voice broke, to make her feel even

Elena sat stiffly in the interrogation room, her eyes fixed on the table before her. Two detectives sat across from her, pens poised, their expressions unreadable.“Miss Voss,” one of them began, his voice firm. “we just need the truth. Everything… from the night you disappeared to what really happened with Amelia.”Elena’s throat tightened. Her fingers twisted in her lap. “I was terrified,” she whispered finally. “Amelia wasn’t the woman any of us or I thought she was. She is a murderer. I knew if I stayed, I’d be next.”The younger detective leaned forward. “So you faked your death?”Elena nodded faintly. “Not exactly. A woman was already dying, a terminal illness. I offered her a deal. In exchange for helping me, she was to live as me in luxury. Enjoy the luxurious life she always wanted, before she died. We switched identities. The body you buried wasn’t mine. I had her under go plastic surgery to look like me.”The older detective frowned. “That’s very…. ”“I know,” Elena replie