All Chapters of Married To My Arrogant Billionaire Enemy : Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

DOMINICGerald didn’t say a word as we walked down the hall, but he didn’t have to. Silence echoed between us, thick and loaded. My jaw was clenched so tightly it hurt. Every muscle in my body was still coiled from what I’d almost done—what I would’ve done if he hadn’t knocked.I could still taste her on my lips.Still feel the imprint of her fingers curled in my shirt.Still hear the soft, breathless sound she made when I pulled her closer.Five more seconds. That was all we would’ve needed.Five seconds, and we would’ve crossed a line we could never walk back from.And then he knocked.Perfect timing.Perfect, infuriating timing.Gerald stopped at the reinforced door and swiped his badge. The surveillance room opened with a low mechanical click—small, dim, packed wall-to-wall with monitors and the familiar hum of machines running on overdrive.The moment the door shut behind us, Gerald exhaled like he’d been holding it in since the hallway.“Before you bite my head off,” he said, “y

BROOKLYNI didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath until Dominic closed the door behind him.The lock clicked. Soft. Final.Like the end of something. Or the beginning of something I wasn’t ready to name.The room was dim except for the lamp near the window. Safe house B wasn’t nearly as fancy as the mansion—plain walls, standard furniture, everything chosen for practicality rather than comfort. But it was still more than anything I’d lived in during the past decade.Still, all I could think about was the way Dominic had looked at me before leaving. The way his voice had dipped, low and rough, when he said we were moving again tonight “just in case.” The way he didn’t let go of my waist until the last possible second.His hands had been warm.His breath had been too close.His eyes had been… dangerous.And I’d leaned in.God, I’d leaned in.I sat on the edge of the bed and forced my fingers to stop trembling. Useless. My whole body remembered him—his hands, his voice, the tension si

DOMINIC I didn’t let myself look back at her.If I did, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to walk away.My hand still burned where her skin had been. My pulse was still uneven, my breath still not fully under control. The echo of her whisper — Dominic… — clung to me like heat.But Gerald’s tone hadn’t left room for hesitation.Something was wrong.I followed him down the hallway, steps sharper than I intended, jaw tight enough to ache. The safe house lighting was dim, automatic, humming faintly as we moved. Gerald kept a few paces ahead, expression carved in stone.“Talk,” I ordered.He didn’t. Not until we reached the small office room — the one with reinforced walls, soundproof panels, and a secure monitor built into the desk.He shut the door behind us.Only then did he turn to me. “Sir… you need to hear this for yourself.”Gerald wasn’t afraid of much.Tonight, he looked like he was.He pulled out his phone, tapped something, then held it up.A voice note loaded.A familiar waveform.A f

BROOKLYN“Never.”The word left my mouth before I could think about it.Before I could remember that this was supposed to be temporary.Before I could remind myself that this man — this danger — this life — was not meant to swallow me whole.But Dominic’s hand tightened around mine like it was instinct.Like it was survival.Like letting go wasn’t an option for either of us.“Stay here,” he said quickly, already pulling me behind him as footsteps thundered down the hallway. “Do not move unless I tell you to.”“I’m not a child,” I snapped, fear making my voice sharper than I intended.His head turned just enough for me to see his eyes.Steel.Absolute.“I know,” he said. “That’s why I’m asking you.”Then he was gone.Gerald rushed past me next, barking orders into his earpiece. Mr. Alcott followed, expression unreadable but deadly calm. Somewhere deeper in the house, alarms began to hum — low, controlled, not the blaring kind you hear in movies.The quiet kind.The kind that meant this

BROOKLYNSleep didn’t come.It hovered just out of reach, teasing me with half-dreams and jolting me awake every time the house creaked or the wind pressed too hard against the windows. I lay there staring at the ceiling until my eyes burned, my mind replaying the same images over and over—Dominic’s hand at my neck, his voice saying for always, the way he’d turned away like staying would cost him something he couldn’t afford to lose.At some point, my throat went dry.The kind of dry that made breathing uncomfortable.I pushed myself up slowly, careful not to make noise even though there was no one to disturb. The digital clock on the bedside table glowed 2:17 a.m.Of course it was.I padded out of the room and down the hall, the house hushed in that deep, suspended way only the middle of the night could manage. Even the security hum felt quieter, like it knew better than to intrude.The kitchen light flicked on softly.I poured myself a glass of water, hands shaking just enough that