All Chapters of The Billionaire’s Betrayed Bride: Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

OWEN'S POV I noticed, even before either of them admitted; and that was the advantage of being outside the storm.Aiden thought he was hiding it well, the way his gaze softened when Riley’s name was mentioned, the way he paused a fraction too long, like he was weighing every word that left his mouth. Riley thought distance would protect her, but distance had never been her weapon. Endurance was.What was forming between them didn't look dramatic. No fireworks or desperation. Just gravity pulling two people toward the same quiet center, it was inevitable.I had never been good at discerning such things, until I met Claire. Thanks to her, I was getting exposed to a lot of things.Aiden and I were alone in his study when I decided to speak to him about it. He was reviewing documents, sleeves rolled up, jaw tight in that familiar way he gets when he’s trying so hard not to think about something that already owned too much of his attention.“She stayed at the apartment last night,” I s

AIDEN'S POV The city moved around me without resistance.Traffic lights changed on time, pedestrians crossed when they were supposed to. Meetings began and ended with mechanical efficiency.Everything followed rules, visible or implied. I had always understood systems like that. They were predictable, responsive, and If you applied the right amount of pressure in the right place, they yielded.Riley didn’t work that way.I noticed the shift before I admitted it to myself.It wasn't the distance exactly. She still replied to my messages, still smiled when we ran into each other unexpectedly, still sounded like herself on the phone. But something had recalibrated, an almost imperceptible change in rhythm. The pauses between words, the way she angled her body when we stood too close and ended conversations cleanly, without lingering.And I didn’t know what to do with it.My instinct was to reach for structure. To define something, ask questions that would give me parameters to work w

CLAIRE'S POV The room smelled faintly of lavender oil and clean cotton, the kind of careful calm Riley cultivated when she was trying to convince herself everything was under control. The lamp on the bedside table cast a low amber glow, softening the corners of the room and turning shadows into something almost gentle. Outside, traffic moved in distant waves, muted by the closed windows, the city existing without demanding anything from us for once.Riley sat on the floor between my knees, back straight, shoulders bare beneath an oversized shirt. Her hair spilled down her spine, dark and glossy, still slightly damp from a shower she’d taken too quickly. A towel lay forgotten beside her, folded with unnecessary precision.I picked up the brush and ran it slowly through her hair.She didn’t lean into it or relax. She stayed very still, like she was afraid any movement might loosen something she was barely holding together.The brush moved easily, no tangles, no resistance. Riley al

AIDEN'S POV I didn’t speak right away after she finished. Not because I was short of words, but because I had way too many.Choosing the wrong one would turn what she just gave me into something transactional, something I feared Riley didn’t open a door so I could rush through it. She opened it so I could prove I wouldn’t.She was looking at the floor, shoulders drawn slightly inward, like she was bracing for impact. I recognized that posture immediately. It was the stance of someone who had learned through repetition, that honesty was often followed by consequence.I refused to be another consequence.The room was quiet, the way spaces become after something irreversible had been said. Not empty, settled. The city noise outside felt so distant, like it belonged to another version of my life entirely.Riley shifted slightly, her fingers twisted together in her lap. Waiting looked so hard for her.For me too, if I was to be honest.I’d built my life around decisiveness. Around kno

SOFIA'S POV The corridor smelled faintly of lemon polish and recycled air.That was always the first thing I noticed when I stepped out of the executive elevator. The artificial cleanliness layered over human effort and the quiet promise of efficiency. Light poured through the glass walls lining the hall, catching on steel accents and glossy floors, turning everything sharp and reflective. Every detail had been curated to suggest control. I liked that.My heels moved in steady rhythm against marble as I walked, tablet resting against my forearm, notifications pulsing silently beneath the screen.Assistants passed in clusters, voices low, steps purposeful. Somewhere behind a closed door, a conference call hummed. Phones rang and stopped ringing, doors opened and closed. The building breathed productivity.I turned the corner near the conference rooms and nearly collided with Riley.She walked straight past me. No greeting or acknowledgment.Not even a pause.Just a stiff line of mo