บททั้งหมดของ The Billionaire’s Regret After His Daughter Died: บทที่ 101 - บทที่ 110

Elara's POV"Fine. We'll stay at the vacation estate before the wedding."Damien's response was calm, matter-of-fact, as if he were discussing dinner plans rather than the aftermath of arson.I stared at him in shock.I'd expected him to continue his interrogation, to demand explanations, to threaten me with prison. For a moment, I'd even wondered if his rage would be so complete that he'd cancel the wedding entirely, forcing me to find another way to destroy her.But after I'd confirmed that yes, we were absolutely having the wedding, the furious tension in his face had simply... dissolved.His furrowed brow smoothed. His clenched jaw relaxed. The cold fury in his eyes shifted to something that looked almost like relief."Thank you for your quick response," he said to the fire chief, his voice slipping into the polished mask he wore for business. "We appreciate your professionalism."He shook hands with the firefighters, thanked the paramedics, and signed the paperwork with the same

Elara's POVI opened my eyes to find myself pressed against a solid chest, surrounded by the familiar scent of expensive cologne and something uniquely Damien.His silver-gray suit was impeccably tailored, the fabric smooth beneath my hands where I'd instinctively gripped his jacket. The cut emphasized his broad shoulders and lean frame in a way that made my breath catch despite everything that had happened between us.He'd moved so quickly that the woman with the wine glass had stumbled backward from the momentum, red liquid splashing across the marble floor in dark, spreading stains."Are you alright?" Damien asked softly, his voice warm with concern as he looked down at me.His arms felt solid and protective around me, creating a barrier between me and the hostile crowd that had gathered to watch my humiliation. For a moment, I was transported back to the early days of our marriage, when I'd felt safe in his embrace, when I'd believed he would always stand between me and anything

Damien's POVI stood outside the bridal suite, adjusting my cufflinks for the third time in as many minutes.The sounds of celebration drifted through the venue - laughter, conversation, the gentle clink of champagne glasses as our guests enjoyed the pre-ceremony reception.Everything was proceeding exactly as I'd planned. The flowers were perfect, the catering was flawless, the musicians were playing the exact pieces I'd selected.But none of that mattered until I saw her.The door to the bridal suite opened, and one of the stylists gestured for me to wait while they made final adjustments. Through the partially open doorway, I caught a glimpse of Elara seated in front of an ornate mirror, her shoulders bare in the off-the-shoulder gown I'd commissioned.She was looking down while the head stylist carefully positioned her veil, the delicate lace cascading over her dark hair like a waterfall of ivory silk.The sight of her stopped me completely.She looked like an angel. Pure, ethereal

Elara's POVDamien's voice cut through the murmurs of the crowd."Isabella."She turned toward him, her face still flushed from dancing, expecting perhaps sympathy or understanding."I need an explanation. I didn't invite Ryan Mitchell to this wedding. How did he get here?"The directness of his question seemed to catch her off guard. For a moment, she looked genuinely confused, as if she couldn't believe he was questioning her. Then something shifted in her expression - a flash of defiance mixed with desperation."Don't you love me anymore?" she screamed, her voice rising to a pitch that made several guests step back in alarm.The sudden outburst sent a ripple of shock through the reception area. Conversations stopped mid-sentence as everyone turned to stare at the scene unfolding before them."Yes, I brought Ryan here!" Isabella continued, her voice breaking with emotion. "But everything I do is for you! Everything I've ever done has been to make you care about me!"The confession d

Elara's POVJust as the officiant was about to begin the formal ceremony, Damien suddenly raised his hand in a gesture that commanded immediate attention."Excuse me," he said, his voice carrying clearly across the venue. "Before we proceed, may I borrow the microphone for a moment?"Marcus Webb, ever the professional showman, immediately sensed an opportunity for drama."Of course, Mr. Blackwood," he said with theatrical enthusiasm, practically bouncing on his heels as he handed over the microphone. "Are we about to witness something special here?"The crowd began to murmur with anticipation, guests leaning forward in their seats as Damien took the microphone with calm authority.For a moment, he simply stood there in silence, looking out over the assembled guests with that commanding presence that had made him one of the most feared businessmen in the city.When he finally spoke, his voice was steady and clear, reaching every corner of the venue."Ladies and gentlemen, I want to take