Todos os capítulos de Sold to be a Billionaires Slave: Capítulo 41 - Capítulo 49

When I walked into the apartment, Clara was on the couch, eating ice cream straight from the tub. She looked up instantly. “Well?” she demanded. “How was it? Did you kiss? Is he secretly boring?” I set my bag down, still processing. “It was… fine.” Clara narrowed her eyes. “That’s your lying voice.” “Clara.” “Spill.” I sighed, sinking onto the couch. “Fine. It wasn’t boring. But something happened.” Her spoon paused midair. “Define something.” “We ran into Alessia and Leonardo.” Her mouth dropped open. “What? Where? Oh, I bet she was nasty.” “She was worse than nasty.” I leaned back. “Adrian shut her down, though.” “Well, good for him.” “Yeah, except…” I hesitated. “Leonardo recognized him.” “As what?” “As the heir to the Moretti empire.” Clara blinked. Then blinked again. “Wait. Like the Morettis? The Italian mafia guys with private jets and blood feuds?” I nodded. She let out a low whistle. “Girl. You don’t do small drama, do you?” “I didn’t know!” I groaned, cover

Adrian’s gaze flicked from Brayden to me, the lilies trembling slightly in his hand. For a moment, no one spoke. The air thickened.“I didn’t mean to intrude,” Adrian said finally, his voice calm but guarded. “Clara called. Said you’d gone into labor.”He took a few steps inside, his presence soft but steady, a quiet contrast to Brayden’s storm. He set the flowers down beside the bassinets, his fingers brushing one of the ribbons tied around the newborns’ wrists. “They’re perfect,” he murmured.Brayden rose to his full height, every inch of him drawn tight like a wire about to snap. “You can leave now.”“Brayden,” Clara hissed from the doorway, but he didn’t look at her. His focus stayed locked on Adrian, a silent warning that needed no words.Adrian met it without flinching. “You don’t get to dictate this,” he said evenly. “Not anymore.”I could feel my pulse pounding in my throat. The tension between them was a current crackling through the sterile hospital air, threatening to ignit

The first night home was nothing like I imagined.There were no soft lullabies, no quiet sighs of contentment, only the fragile rhythm of newborn cries, the shuffle of feet, the clink of bottles, and Clara’s sleepy muttering about caffeine and divine punishment.The twins had their own rhythm, a demanding, unpredictable one. If one stirred, the other followed. If one quieted, the other found a reason to wail.By 3 a.m., I’d lost count of the diaper changes.“Remind me,” Clara mumbled from the couch, hair sticking out in every possible direction, “why people keep doing this to themselves voluntarily?”“Because they forget this part,” I whispered, rocking our daughter gently.Clara groaned, pulling a blanket over her head. “Selective amnesia. Mother nature’s cruel joke.”I smiled faintly, exhaustion heavy behind my eyes. But when I looked down at the tiny bundle in my arms, with her button nose and impossibly small fingers, the fatigue melted a little.She blinked up at me, curious and

My stomach dropped. The apartment felt suddenly too small, the air too thin. For a moment I couldn’t think, only listen, to the babies’ quiet breaths, to the pounding of my own pulse in my ears, to the soft click of Adrian’s boots as he straightened.Then the hallway erupted.Heavy footsteps. The front door slammed open. Brayden filled the frame like a dark tide, breathless, eyes burning with something feral I hadn’t seen since before the accident.His gaze cut the room in two: me, bruised cheek and shaking hands, and Adrian, tall and unruffled, standing a hair’s breadth from the toppled roses.“Zoe,” he said, voice sharp as a blade. “What happened?”“Brayden…” I started, voice raw, but Adrian answered for me before I could.“Your family came here. They threatened her. They tried to take the babies.” Adrian’s words were calm, clinical, but his eyes never left Brayden’s. “I stopped them.”Brayden’s face went white and then red in a flash. “Where are they?” he snarled.“Gone,” Adrian sa

The police arrived in a flurry. Questions came at me like bullets. “Ma’am, did you see the faces of the men?” “No!” I screamed, shaking. “I didn’t! They wore hoods, gloves… I don’t know! They just, took them!” “The license plate?” “I didn’t…” My hands flew to my face. “I was shoved to the ground! They came out of nowhere!” Clara whimpered beside me, head in her hands. “It was… like they were ghosts…” I barely heard the officers talking after that. All I could feel was my heart hammering, my pulse tearing through my veins. Rain and River… my babies… gone. One officer crouched in front of me, voice unnervingly calm. “Ma’am, breathe. We’re going to get every camera feed. We’ll trace them…” “They’re newborns!” I yelled, voice hoarse. “They can’t survive out there! You don’t understand, they…oh God…they’re so tiny!” Clara’s voice, trembling, barely reached me. “Zoe… tell them everything. Every small thing you remember. It could matter.” I tried. I listed every tiny detail, every