All Chapters of BILLIONAIRE'S DEAD WIFE RETURNS : Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

JakeThe hospital room had finally gone quiet again.The kids’ laughter still echoed faintly in my head, Elias trying to teach Ethan a game, Chanel’s tiny giggles bouncing off the walls. For a few brief hours, the noise had dulled everything else the guilt, the ache, the crushing uncertainty.Now it was just me and the steady hum of machines.I sat back against the pillows, staring blankly at the half open window, trying not to think about the accident. About Kyla. About how I couldn’t even tell our kids the truth.The door creaked open, and my mother stepped in, her expression soft but tired.“They have gone home,” she said quietly. "i think they really had fun, it's good they all came to see you today and got to meet each other." I blinked, pulling myself out of the fog. "What about Ethan?" “Alex called earlier. He said Ethan could spend the night with Elias and Chanel. The kids were so excited they could hardly sit still. I thought it was good for them to be together.”I managed

AminaI was halfway through my mug of tea when I heard the knock at the door. It was late enough that the neighborhood had already sunk into its hush, that particular stillness that always made our living room feel smaller. The movie’s glow flickered across the walls, washing everything in the soft blue of ocean scenes I wasn’t really watching. I’d been trying, and failing, to keep my mind from circling back to Alex.He hadn’t called all day. Not a text, not a single message. After last night, the silence pressed against me like punishment. I told myself he was busy, maybe at the office, maybe with Jake or the kids, but the doubt scratched under my skin.When the knock sounded sharp, firm, deliberate my heart jumped.“That must be him,” I blurted, already setting my cup down and pushing to my feet, trying not to show how excited I was. My mother looked up from the couch, arching an eyebrow, but she didn’t say anything. She’d learned it was easier to let me play out my little stori

AminaI stood there staring at her, my pulse pounding so hard it drowned out every other sound in the room. For a moment, I couldn’t even speak. I just looked at her, this woman I had always thought of as strong, composed, the one who held everything together when I couldn’t.“You cut the brakes?” I finally said, my voice shaking. “You actually Mama, what the hell were you thinking?”She flinched but didn’t look away. Her chin lifted a little, defiant even in her guilt. “I was thinking about you,” she said softly. “About how far you have fallen. How you were losing control of everything. You needed someone to step in, you were so close to getting everything you have ever wanted and then that bitch.. .”I let out a hollow laugh. “Step in? You could have killed someone! You could’ve killed, Jake mom, how is killing Jake helping me, he is my husband”Her face tightened at his name. “He broke you, Amina. He and that woman destroyed everything you built. Don’t stand there and act like he

AlexHospitals have a smell that never leaves you. Clean, sterile, suffocating and like they are trying to scrub away everything ugly, everything real. But no matter how much bleach they pour into these walls, they can’t wash away guilt.And right now, guilt is all I feel as I walk down the corridor to Jake’s room.The nurse nods when I tell her my name, though I can tell she recognizes me the “other son,” the one who doesn’t visit enough, doesn’t behave enough, doesn’t measure up. Story of my life.What else is new?! I push open the door, and there he is Jake, sitting up in bed, pale but alive. His arm is still in a sling, and there are shadows under his eyes, but his voice is steady when he says,“You came.”“Of course I did.” I try to sound casual, leaning against the wall. “You think I would miss another one of your near death experiences?”He gives a faint laugh, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.There’s a heaviness in the room, the kind that comes before a storm.“How are you fee

KylaThe first thing I notice when I open my eyes is the smell of flowers.Sterile, overly sweet lilies maybe. Someone must have left them on the bedside table.The second thing I notice is that I’m not alone.There is someone else sitting by my bed.At first, through the haze of medication and dull pain behind my temples, I think it’s one of the nurses. But when my eyes adjust to the dim light, my blood runs cold.It’s her. Amina’s mother.She is sitting there like she owns the place a small, sharp woman with her hair in a neat twist, pearl earrings glinting under the soft light. She looks composed. Too composed. Her hands are folded neatly in her lap, her expression unreadable.My pulse spikes. “What are you doing here?”She smiles faintly, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Relax, dear. I just came to talk.”I try to sit up, but my ribs protest, a sharp pain shooting up my side. “I have nothing to say to you.”“Oh, I think you do.” She leans forward, her voice low, almost conversatio