Todos os capítulos de The Billionaire’s Betrayed Bride: Capítulo 191 - Capítulo 200

ETHAN’S POVThe whiskey burned on the way down, but I barely tasted it.I stood by the floor-to-ceiling window in my office, watching the city stretch out beneath me in cold precision. Lights flickered in distant buildings, traffic crawled like veins pulsing through concrete arteries. Control, that was what this view usually reminded me of.My phone buzzed against the glass desk behind me. I ignored it.It buzzed again, then again.I exhaled sharply and turned, irritation already simmering. My secretary never called more than once unless I’d specifically asked her to.I glanced at the screen. Marissa – Office LineI answered on the fourth ring. “What?” I snapped irritatedly.Her breathing was uneven. “Sir, there’s… there’s a situation.”“There’s always a situation. Be specific.”“The stocks are dropping.”My grip tightened around the glass. “That’s not unusual. Markets fluctuate.”“No, sir. Not like this. It’s.. it’s plummeting. Twelve percent in the last fifteen minutes.”Silence f

RILEY’S POVThe bathroom was quiet, the hum of the fan the only sound as I stood in front of the mirror. My fingers traced the curve of my belly almost automatically, as if acknowledging a presence I hadn’t yet fully accepted myself.It was subtle, still manageable under loose shirts and high-waisted pants, but I knew I could feel it, that the bump was growing more obvious by the day.Almost six months.The number repeated in my mind like a warning. Six months. Half a year. And yet it felt like yesterday when I’d first felt the flutter, the little reminder that I was not entirely alone in the world. That tiny life was mine, and for a brief, fragile moment, it gave me something to hold onto, a reason to breathe when the weight of everything else threatened to crush me.But the more my body changed, the more visible it became, the less safe I felt. I tilted my head, examining myself from different angles. The bump couldn’t be hidden forever, not if someone was paying attention, not i

RILEY’S POVClaire arrived like chaos in designer sunglasses.I saw Owen’s car before I saw her, sleek, dark, entirely too noticeable for someone who claimed she wanted to “avoid attention.” It rolled to a dramatic stop in front of the company building, and a few curious heads turned. Of course they did.The driver’s door swung open and Claire stepped out like she was exiting a runway instead of a parking space.I crossed my arms the second I reached her.“You look refreshed,” I said dryly. “Must be nice. Sun, beaches, cocktails. Meanwhile your best friend was going through actual hell.”She gasped theatrically. “I was dealing with a family crisis.”“You were posting beach pictures.”“Emotional support beaches,” she corrected without shame, pulling me into a tight hug. “Don’t guilt-trip me. I came back the second I could.”I tried to stay annoyed, I really did. But being wrapped in Claire’s arms after weeks of stress felt… grounding.She pulled back and studied my face. “You look t

RILEY'S POV The morning sunlight cut through the blinds, spilling pale gold across the floor.I blinked against it, my body still heavy with sleep, my mind hazy and slow. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, the sheets rustling around me. It was quieter than I expected. I hesitated for a moment, letting my feet touch the floor, toes brushing against the soft rug, before I padded toward the stairs.Half-asleep, I muttered under my breath, “Tea first… maybe I’ll survive if I get coffee first.”The living room was warmer than I thought. Curtains were drawn just enough to soften the light, and the faint smell of toasted bread floated through the air. My stomach reminded me rudely that I hadn’t eaten since yesterday, though the thought of food made me feel nauseous. I rubbed my eyes and yawned, still trying to shake off the fog.And then it happened, I rounded the corner into the kitchen and froze.Aiden coming out from the kitchen. Shirtless, lean, barely enough fabric left on h

RILEY’S POVI sat in the dining area after lunch, staring at the table.My resignation letter sat in my bag, printed, signed, folded neatly inside a cream envelope. I had rewritten it three times the night before, staring at the words until they stopped looking real.Kindly accept this as my formal notice. Too polite.In the end, I settled for something clean, professional, and detached.I would be concluding my role in four weeks, I appreciated the opportunities. I wished the company well.Aiden had watched me seal the envelope without saying much. Just a quiet, “You’re sure?” before kissing my forehead like he already knew the answer.Now I stood outside the company building, staring up at the glass exterior reflecting the morning sun.This place had once felt like ambition. Now it felt like survival.I walked in. The lobby smelled the same. Polished floors, subtle perfume, corporate neutrality. People nodded at me as I passed. Some smiled. Some didn’t. None of them knew.I press