All Chapters of His Wife On Paper : Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

Eliora's POV The ghost of the woman I used to be was waiting at the door.The private elevator chimed with that soft, familiar ring, and my stomach dropped into a slow, sickening spiral. When the doors slid open, the Donovan penthouse sprawled before me, glass walls, marble floors, expensive and empty, just as I remembered.But this time, I wasn’t alone. Ezra’s tiny hand was in mine, his sneakers squeaking against the polished marble that used to echo under my frantic footsteps waiting for Kian to come home.“Big!” he shouted, letting go of my hand and racing toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. His little nose pressed against the glass as he gazed at the city below. “Mommy, the cars are like ants!”Of course it would be like that, this is Donovan's penthouse. Everything was still the same, just the way I left it, the way I decorated it. And it made my stomach twist into something uncomfortable.I turned and looked at the shadow moving behind us in silence all this while.Kian.“Kian

Eliora's POV I was happy. It was a real laughter, the kind that filled my heart with a warmth and joy that had always felt so far-fetched.Everything was fine. Life felt worth living again—until Tonia walked in.Kian’s mother entered like she owned the place, her heels clicking sharply against the marble. Just like that, I was reminded that this, too, shall pass. It was a constant reminder that I wasn't allowed to be happy for too long. Her presence was a ticking bomb, a cold warning that I had lied to the whole world. She was everything I didn't want to be reminded of.Silence spread through the room like a heavy blanket.Her sharp gaze swept over us, taking in the scene before a harsh scoff escaped her lips. Her icy eyes landed on me, skimming over my face like I was a stupid stain she couldn't get off her white dress. Then, she turned to her son.“Where the hell have you been, Kian? Do you know how worried I have been? Or how worried Mia has been?”I glanced at Mia. She was dresse

Eliora's POV It has been days of staying here in this penthouse with Kian and all the people I love. Days of watching Kian prove to me that he is a changed person, days of laughing like I have no problems in the world.The scent of sizzling bacon and expensive coffee filled the air like a domestic perfume that didn’t quite belong in a place this sharp and modern.I sat on the plush rug, building a lopsided tower of blocks with Ezra. His small, chubby fingers were careful, his tongue poking out in concentration."Look, Mommy! I can go higher!" he cheered, clapping his hands as the tower wobbled."I bet you can. You are a champion, but you can't beat Mummy," I laughed, stacking a yellow block precariously on top.“I can and I will, watch me.” Ezra stuck his tongue out at me, his eyes wide with focus.I laughed, but my eyes drifted toward the kitchen island. Kian was there, leaning slightly against the counter to ease the pressure on his stitches, which were healing pretty fast. He wa

Eliora's POV "It smells like him. Like expensive lies and old money."I didn't realize I’d said it out loud until Kian’s hand tightened on the handle of his weapon.Yes, Kian had a gun. Shocking right?Exactly the same reaction I had when he whooped it out like it was nothing. It seems like he had years of experience with it, making me question just how much I knew him.We were standing in the foyer of Elijah Hayes’ estate in the Berkshires, and the silence was so heavy it felt like it was pressing against my eardrums. There were no guards. No greeting. Just the hollow tick of a grandfather clock somewhere deep in the house."Stay behind me," Kian muttered, his voice a low vibration.We moved through the ground floor, our footsteps echoing off the polished hardwood. Every room was a museum of the life Elijah had pretended to build for us. But as we pushed open the doors to the back wing, I froze."Kian, look."It was a study. But it wasn't just any study. It was an exact, terrifying

Kian's POV "I’m not a ghost, Kian. You can stop looking through me."The voice sliced through the darkness of the foyer, sharp and cold. I froze, my hand still gripping the heavy brass handle of the front door. I hadn’t turned on the lights. I didn't want to see the penthouse. I didn't want to see the sleek, Italian marble or the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over a city I felt like I was losing. Most importanly, I didn't want to see her.I stayed still, my heart hammering a frantic, guilty rhythm against my ribs. "It’s two in the morning, Eliora. You should be asleep.""And you should be home," she countered. I heard the soft rustle of silk as she stood up from the armchair in the corner of the living room. "You’ve been at the office for three days straight. Even your assistant stopped taking my calls. What are you running from?"I finally dropped my briefcase, the sound a dull thud on the floor, and hit the light switch. The sudden glare was blinding. Eliora stood in the