The Billionaire's Stolen Heiress のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 171 - チャプター 180

MARIA POVThe sound of the explosion didn’t just reach the estate; it felt as though it had been detonated inside my own chest. The heavy, leaded glass windows of the foyer rattled in their frames, a low, ominous vibration that seemed to groan through the very foundations of the St. Clair name. My heart stopped. My breath hitched, caught in a throat that felt constricted by the invisible collar Vincenzo had kept on me for six years."Julian," I whispered, the name sounding like a prayer and a plea.I looked at Vincenzo. He didn't flinch at the sound of the blast. Instead, a slow, predatory smile spread across his face—the look of a man watching his final obstacle go up in smoke. He checked his watch, the gold reflecting the light of the chandelier I had spent two years pretending to own."Timing is everything, Maria," Vincenzo said, his voice a smooth, terrifying purr. "The 'Terrorist' is gone. The loose ends of the past years are finally buried under the reservoir. Now, stop playi

The silence that followed the departure of the police was heavier than the sirens. The St. Clair estate, once a battlefield of hidden agendas and high-stakes deception, now felt like a hollowed-out shell.The emergency lights had stopped flashing, and the fancy lights on the ceiling were now shining softly, but they couldn't hide the damage that had been done. There were holes in the nice wooden walls, and the air still smelled like something had exploded, leaving a burnt smell on the fancy curtains.I was slumped on the soft couch in the library, feeling completely drained. A paramedic had fixed the cut on my head and wrapped up my bruised ribs, but the real pain went way deeper - it was like my whole body was screaming for rest. My eyes felt heavy, like they were made of stone, and all I wanted to do was close them and sleep. The exhaustion was suffocating, making every part of me feel like it was weighed down, and I just couldn't shake it off.Julian was sitting across from me, loo

The gavel had fallen, but the echoes felt hollow. As I stood on the courthouse steps, Julian’s hand anchored me to the earth, but my eyes were fixed on the black transport van carrying Vincenzo Moreno away.He hadn’t looked like a defeated man. He had looked like a man who had planted a bomb and was simply waiting for the timer to hit zero."It's not over, is it?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the wind that was tossing my short hair around, slapping it against my cheeks."Julian's voice took on a serious tone, the kind that made me feel safe," I thought, as he spoke in a hushed manner. "The truth is, his finances are in shambles, his reputation is ruined, and he's facing a stint in a maximum-security prison.""Vincenzo doesn't need to have a lot of money or power to be a threat, Julian," I said, turning my attention to Maria, who was just a short distance away, engulfed by a swarm of reporters. Her expression was calm and collected, a perfect example of the kind of poise t

The walls that surrounded me were a dull grey, cold and uninviting, with a smell that reminded me of a hospital - a strong, harsh scent of bleach that seemed to seep into every pore. But the people who put me here, they were wrong to think that this place could hold me, that it could take away my strength and my influence. They thought that by taking away the things that showed my wealth and status, like my expensive ties and my luxury watch, they could somehow diminish me, make me less than I am.Fools.I sat on the narrow cot, staring at the small, grainy monitor the "friendly" guard had smuggled in for me. It was a live feed from the Alpine villa. I watched as the SUV pulled up to the gates. I watched as Julian, Maria, and the "Imposter" stepped out into the snow.I stared at the empty space, my voice barely above a whisper. "Look at them," I said, a cold, mirthless laugh catching in my throat. "The perfect family, all set to conquer the dragon."I secretly entered a sequence of co

The cellar door shuddered under the force of Catrina’s shoulder, a sound of raw, desperate violence that echoed through the stone chamber. Metal groaned against the magnetic seal, but the locks held with a stubborn, electronic whine.Behind us, the fake server screamed like a dying animal. The overclocked processors were hemorrhaging heat, the cooling modules frosting over so thickly the entire rack looked like a jagged iceberg dragged into the bowels of the estate. Cold, chemical vapor spilled across the floor in a waist-high fog.Ten minutes. No—less now.I wiped the condensation from my palms, my hands shaking so violently I had to ball them into fists. Panic was a luxury for people with time. Fear was just a slower way to die.Catrina stepped back from the door, her chest heaving, her mind visibly cycling through tactical possibilities. Her eyes flicked from the reinforced steel to the ceiling."Mag locks are military-grade," she muttered, her voice tight. "Breaking them would tak