All Chapters of Blood Ties and Billionaire Lies: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

The night bled into silence after Valerie fled the dinner table. Damien stood at the gates of the Rodriguez estate the taste of defeat bitter in his mouth. Cassandra had already left, her eyes hollow, lips tight with grief. She hadn’t even said goodbye—her silence was enough to carve into him: She’s not your Selena. Let her go.Sofia lingered longer. She’d touched Damien’s hand once, a whisper of comfort. “I don’t know what to believe,” she’d murmured before following Cassandra into the car.But Damien stayed. He couldn’t leave.Somewhere inside those walls was the woman who had been his whole life, even if she didn’t remember it.Valerie paced her suite, her heart pounding.Her reflection in the mirror was pale, eyes wide and unsettled. She gripped the vanity, whispering to herself: “I’m Valerie Rodríguez. I’m Valentina’s daughter. That’s who I am.”But the voices at dinner haunted her—Cassandra’s stories, Sofia’s lullaby, Damien’s raw desperation. Each had pressed against the fragil

The ride back from the cathedral was silent. Damien gripped on the wheel like his life depended on it, eyes locked on the road, but every nerve in his body replayed Valerie’s collapse inside the cathedral. The panic in her eyes and the way she had struggled to hide it.She was Selena, she had to be all facts until now proves it. When they pulled into the hotel’s sweeping drive, Valerie was already pulling herself back together. She straightened in her seat, smoothed her blouse, and pressed her palms to her thighs. By the time the car rolled to a stop, her face was composed again—cool, polite, untouchable.“Thank you for the outing, Mr. Roth,” she said softly, her voice measured, distant. “But I think it would be best if… we kept things professional from now on.”Damien’s throat clenched, words clawing to the surface, but he forced them down. She opened the door and slipped out, her heels clicking briskly across the marble.And yet, as he walked into the marble lobby of the hotel, Val

The dim light of the Colombian hideout barely penetrated the thick blinds. The room smelled faintly of stale coffee and metal. Alia sat at the long table, her fingers tapping against a laptop as she scrolled through the latest international news feed.A clip caught her eye: a snippet from an Italian news broadcast. Roth Enterprise’s CEO Damien Roth had been photographed shaking hands with Valentina Rodriguez—and by his side, a striking young woman with dark hair pinned neatly back. Valerie Rodriguez.Alia froze.The resemblance was uncanny every feature that had haunted her nightmares since the night the Roth wedding collapsed now screamed a single possibility: Selena was alive.Emma leaned against the wall, arms crossed, reading Alia’s reaction with an almost imperceptible smirk. “She’s alive,” Alia muttered, barely above a whisper.Emma shrugged. “Does it matter? Damien still doesn’t know. You want to turn this into something bigger than it is?”Alia’s fingers froze mid-scroll. “It

The drive back to the penthouse was steeped in silence, except for the faint hum of the city outside the tinted glass. Valerie sat pressed against the leather seat, arms locked tightly around herself, her breathing uneven—as if every inhale scraped her lungs raw.Behind him, Valerie stirred in the bed, pale and trembling. She pushed herself upright, her hair tumbling around her shoulders, eyes dark with a fear that was sharper than any she had felt before.She wasn’t confused anymore, wasn’t lost, she hadn’t been pushed today. She hadn’t been shot and yet her body remembered.The penthouse door swung shut behind them Valerie moved first. She tore off the soft wrap Damien had draped over her shoulders and tossed it aside as if it burned.She was furious.“Tell me.” Her voice cut through the quiet like a blade.Damien turned, every muscle in his body stiffening. “You need rest.”“I don’t need rest.” Her fingers gripped the sheets so tightly they shook. “I need answers. Don’t treat me li

The night after Selena…no, Valerie uttered those words, Damien found himself pacing his penthouse as though the marble beneath his shoes might suddenly give way. “I am Selena Monroe... but I still don’t remember you. Now, what do we do about the woman who is coming to kill me?”Her confession was carved into his mind like fire on stone.Damien sat at the head of his dining table, jaw locked. Cassandra leaned against the far wall, arms crossed tightly, while Sofia occupied the seat across from him, her restless fingers tracing the edge of her wineglass. The air between them hummed with unease.“We can’t go on like this,” Cassandra said finally, her voice sharp, though her eyes betrayed exhaustion. “Valerie….Selena or whatever name she uses, she’s breaking in front of us. She deserves clarity. Proof.”“Proof,” Damien echoed, his tone low. “I’ve given her memories, truths, pieces of what we lived. But she doesn’t trust her own mind.”Cassandra arched a brow, her jaw tightening. “And what