Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Billionaire's secret baby bride : Kabanata 141 - Kabanata 150

Isabella’s POVThe morning came with a cruel kind of stillness — the kind that arrives after a storm, when everything feels too quiet, too heavy, too real. The city below was wrapped in mist, the streets glistening with the remnants of last night’s rain. From the penthouse balcony, I could see the skyline shrouded in pale light, the clouds drifting lazily like exhausted ghosts.I stood there barefoot, one of Alexander’s shirts hanging loosely off my shoulder. The air was cold, sharp with the scent of wet asphalt and salt. But the ache in my chest was warmer — heavy, human, and hollow all at once.He hadn’t said a word since he came back last night. I’d washed the blood from his hands myself — crimson stains that refused to leave, no matter how long I scrubbed. And when his trembling fingers touched my face afterward, I realized it wasn’t just blood that clung to him — it was guilt.He was still asleep, sprawled across the bed, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. But even

The night pressed down on the world like a held breath. Rain whispered against the glass walls of the penthouse, tracing paths of silver down the windows as if the sky itself wept for me. I stood there, motionless, my reflection staring back—pale, fractured, tired. My hands trembled, not from the cold but from the storm inside me that refused to calm.Alexander hadn’t spoken in hours. Not since the truth came out. Not since everything I’d buried under love and denial came clawing to the surface again.He sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, head bowed. The light from the chandelier carved his silhouette in gold and shadow. His silence was worse than shouting. Worse than anger. Because silence meant he was slipping away—and I couldn’t lose him. Not again. Not after everything we’d survived.“Say something,” I whispered, but my voice cracked before the words reached him.He didn’t move.I swallowed the lump rising in my throat and forced another breath. “You can’t just sit t

(Isabella’s POV)The car sped through the city under a bruised sky, headlights slicing through the dark like desperate hope. Rain poured down in violent sheets, beating against the windshield, each drop echoing the chaos in my chest.Alexander’s hands gripped the steering wheel tight, knuckles white, his jaw set in a way that made him look carved from stone. The rhythmic flick of the wipers did little to calm the storm inside either of us.Neither of us spoke for a long time. The silence between us was alive—thick with fear, exhaustion, and all the words we didn’t dare say.Finally, I whispered, “Where are we going?”He didn’t glance at me. “Somewhere safe.”Safe. I wasn’t sure I even knew what that meant anymore.We drove for nearly an hour before the city lights began to fade, swallowed by the dense forest that bordered the outskirts. The roads grew narrower, rougher, until we turned onto a barely visible dirt path that led into darkness.A few minutes later, a cabin appeared in the

(Isabella’s POV)We ran until my lungs felt like fire.Branches clawed at my arms, mud splashed my legs, and my heartbeat wouldn’t slow down no matter how far we went. Alexander didn’t look back once. His hand gripped mine so tightly that I wasn’t sure if he was keeping me close or keeping himself from falling apart.The forest thinned. The light changed. And for the first time in hours, I saw the horizon.“Wait,” I gasped. “Alexander—stop.”He turned, chest heaving, eyes still burning from everything that happened. Blood streaked down his sleeve, drying fast. He didn’t seem to notice.“We can’t stop,” he said. “Not yet.”“Leclair’s dead.”He shook his head. “Dead men still have soldiers.”I took a step closer. “Then what? We keep running forever?”He didn’t answer. Just looked at me, jaw clenched, eyes tired in a way I’d never seen before.Something in me snapped. “You think I’m made of glass, don’t you? That I’ll break if you stop holding on so tight.”His expression didn’t change,

Isabella's POV The world after Alexander’s collapse became soundless — as though time had been stripped bare, leaving only silence and static. The sirens had faded. The paramedics had come and gone. I remembered flashes — hands prying me away from him, voices shouting orders, someone saying he still had a pulse — but it all blurred into one cold, senseless fog.That was two days ago.Now, I sat in the corner of the hospital room, staring at the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor beside his bed. It pulsed slow and steady, a cruel reminder that he was somewhere between life and death — trapped in a place I couldn’t reach.His face looked peaceful, almost too peaceful, like the storm inside him had finally quieted. But peace had never belonged to Alexander Leclair. He was all fire and shadows, built to fight, built to burn.I didn’t move for hours. The chair was hard, the fluorescent lights unkind, but none of it mattered. What mattered was the man lying motionless under white sheets, h