All Chapters of The Billionaire's secret baby bride : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

(Alexander’s POV)The world narrowed into the sound of steel.The corridor vibrated with tension, the walls breathing shadows as the intruders fanned out. The air was heavy with the scent of iron and oil, of blood already spilled and blood yet to come. My men weren’t here; it was just me, my rage, and the woman I swore would never fall into their hands.Their leader stepped forward, hood low over his brow. He didn’t need to speak. The silence itself was a message: we came for you.I didn’t waste words either. Words were for diplomacy. This was war.I moved first.The gun in my hand barked, the recoil slicing through the tight air as the first bullet slammed into the chest of the nearest hooded figure. He staggered back, choking, before crumpling. The silence fractured into chaos—shouts, the scrape of boots, steel flashing.“Stay behind me,” I barked at Isabella, my voice colder than the steel in my hand.She didn’t argue. I could feel her fear pressing against my back, but she didn’t

(Isabella’s POV)The night air was thick, almost suffocating, carrying the metallic tang of blood that still clung to Alexander’s skin, to his hands, to everything around us. I had never known fear like this—not the sharp, twisting fear that burrowed into your chest, that made your stomach churn and your throat tighten. Every breath I took reminded me of the chaos, the violence, the darkness that had followed us from the alley to the street and now lingered in the quiet of the city night.I pressed myself against the wall of the abandoned building, my fingers trembling as they clutched the hem of my dress. My heart thundered in my chest, a frantic drumbeat, a warning that the calm I had thought was ours was shattered. Alexander stood a few feet ahead of me, his back straight, shoulders tense, head low. He was surveying the empty street, his eyes sharp and scanning, every muscle coiled, every nerve alert. The crimson on his hands had dried in places, still dark and sticky, the remnants

The silence after bloodshed is the loudest sound I have ever known. It presses against my ears, muffled yet deafening, like a storm that has just passed but left the sky too heavy to breathe under. My hands trembled as I clutched the inside of the car door, my knuckles white against the leather, my body vibrating from the aftermath of the ambush we barely survived.I could still smell the acrid burn of gunpowder. Still see the glimmer of blood on Alexander’s hands as he dragged himself back into the car, his chest heaving, his eyes wild and yet frighteningly steady.For a moment, he wasn’t a man. He was a shadow—blood-soaked, unrelenting, carved from vengeance.I wanted to touch him. To wipe the streak of crimson that painted his cheek, to anchor him back to me, to us, to anything other than the darkness he seemed swallowed by. But my hands wouldn’t move. They stayed clenched in my lap, useless, betraying me with my own fear.His gaze flicked toward me, sharp and piercing. “Are you hu

Alexander’s POVDarkness.At first, it was nothing but that—an endless abyss that swallowed me whole. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t feel anything except the suffocating weight pressing down on me. It was as though the world had finally decided to silence me, to drag me into its cold, merciless void.But then… a sound broke through.Her voice.“Stay with me… please, Alexander, stay with me!”Isabella.The sound of her desperation cut through the void like fire to ice. It reached the parts of me I thought had long since turned numb. I wanted to reach her, to answer, to hold on—but my body felt heavy, my blood spilling, life seeping out with every breath I could no longer control.And still, even as the darkness pulled me deeper, I clung to the thought of her.I had always been a man of violence, of shadows, of bloody hands that never came clean. But Isabella… she had been the only light I had ever allowed near me. She was the one thing in this godforsaken world that made m

Isabella’s POVThe world around me collapsed the instant Alexander’s body went slack in my arms.I can still feel the weight of him, heavy, unnatural, wrong. His warmth is there, but the life pulsing through him—the intensity that always radiates from his presence—flickers like a dying flame. I cradle his head against my chest, my trembling fingers pressed against his jaw as though my touch alone could force his eyes open again.“Alexander,” I whisper, my voice cracking, the syllables tearing out of me like broken glass. “Please, not now… not like this.”The roar of gunfire has died down, but its echo lingers in the smoke-filled night, thick with the acrid stench of blood and burning rubber. Our convoy had been ambushed on the narrow road cutting through the forest, where shadows stretched endlessly, offering cover to men who had come for him—for us.And now, in the wreckage of that ambush, all I can hear is the ragged thud of my own heartbeat.I press harder against the wound in his