บททั้งหมดของ The Billionaire's secret baby bride : บทที่ 111 - บทที่ 120

(Alexander’s POV)The first thing I felt when I got the call was cold. Not the kind that comes from the air or the night, but the kind that crawls under your skin and wraps its claws around your heart.“Sir—there’s been an incident. It’s Miss Isabella.”The words hit me like a gunshot. I didn’t ask for details. I didn’t wait for explanation. I was already moving—grabbing my jacket, shoving through the doors of my office, the sound of my footsteps echoing like thunder.By the time I reached the hospital, the air was filled with chaos. Nurses running, security shouting, alarms screaming down the corridor. I knew before anyone told me that it was her room.When I saw the blood on the floor—her blood—I felt something inside me shatter.---They said it was an intruder. Someone who got past the guards, dressed as maintenance. He’d come for her while she was still weak, barely recovered from the last attempt. He’d cut the lights, moved silently. They said she’d screamed once before the nurs

(Alexander’s POV)The morning after felt like a lie.Sunlight filtered through the curtains, painting soft gold across Isabella’s skin. She slept soundly beside me, her head resting on my chest, one hand curled near my heart. Her breath was slow and steady, each exhale whispering peace into a world that hadn’t earned it.For a moment, I let myself believe this was normal—that we were just another couple waking up after a long night, not two survivors trapped in the aftermath of too many secrets and too much blood.But then my phone buzzed.The sound shattered the illusion.I slipped out of bed quietly, not wanting to wake her, and picked it up from the nightstand. The message was from Victor, one of my oldest men.> Victor: “We found something. Warehouse District. You’ll want to see this.”No other details. Just that.The pit in my stomach tightened. Nothing good ever started with you’ll want to see this.I looked back at Isabella—still asleep, still unknowing—and for a split second,

(Alexander’s POV )The city smelled different at night when you had a target on your back. Not just rain or exhaust — it was metallic, electric, like the air itself was wired to violence. I stood on the penthouse balcony and watched the lights blur into a thousand shallow flames, each one a small life I could break or save with a single decision. Tonight, every one of them felt like a threat.Victor was downstairs, running the men like a machine. He’d come to me minutes ago with a face I’d seen in too many funerals: taut, grim, and tired in a way that made me older. “They moved,” he’d said. “Phase one began. Luca tracked to an old safehouse near the docks. Syndicate cells are waking up across the perimeter.”I didn’t say anything. I didn’t need to. The word Luca landed like a hand around my throat. Moretti had been more than a friend; he was a ghost from a version of me that still believed in loyalty. He was the breach that had almost bled me dry years ago. Seeing his name on Victor’s

Rain pounded against the mansion windows as Alexander paced the floor of his private study. The city outside seemed muted under the storm, yet his mind roared louder than the thunder. Every word Isabella had spoken earlier haunted him — his father’s betrayal, the hit that had nearly ended his life, the empire built on lies.He clenched his fists, knuckles white, and ran a hand through his hair. “It ends tonight,” he muttered to himself. Not just the threat from his father, but the darkness that had been lurking behind his life for so long.Isabella entered quietly, her presence grounding him. “Alexander… you’re shaking,” she said softly, concern threading her voice. She approached slowly, placing a gentle hand on his arm.He turned to her, eyes sharp but grateful. “I’ve waited too long, Isabella. Every second wasted was another chance for them to hurt us — to hurt everyone I care about.”Her hand slid into his, gripping tightly. “Then let’s end it,” she said. “Together.”He studied he

The city woke slowly under a pale, fragile sunlight, the streets still slick from the remnants of last night’s storm. In the mansion, the air carried a different kind of weight — one not of weather, but of the lingering consequences of power, betrayal, and decisions made in the dark. Isabella moved through the halls quietly, her footsteps soft against the polished marble, her mind racing with the events that had reshaped their lives.Alexander had been up since dawn, reviewing reports, coordinating with his closest allies, and ensuring that the remnants of his father’s network could no longer manipulate or threaten anyone. Even in the early morning, he exuded an aura of control and intensity that was almost frightening. His dark hair was still damp from a shower, a sharp contrast to the sharp lines of his suit. He didn’t speak much, but the tension in his jaw, the intensity of his gaze, and the barely suppressed anger simmering beneath the surface were palpable.Isabella approached, c