All Chapters of The Billionaire's secret baby bride : Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

(Alexander’s POV)The explosion’s echo still lived in my bones.Every step I took away from that burning ruin seemed heavier, slower, like the flames had sunk into my blood and made it boil.The SUV skidded along the wet road, engine roaring against the storm’s howl. The windshield wipers struggled to fight the rain, but it didn’t matter — I could still see the fire behind us, glowing in the rearview mirror like a dying star.Viktor was still alive. I knew it.He wouldn’t die that easily. Not him. Not the brother who had learned every violent trick I’d ever used to survive.I clenched my fists until my knuckles went white.Across from me, Isabella sat silent, wrapped in Nikolai’s jacket. Her skin was pale, her wrists raw from the ropes, her eyes staring blankly at the road ahead. She hadn’t said a word since I pulled her from that room. Not a single word.And that silence hurt more than any wound I’d ever taken.“Boss,” Nikolai muttered from the driver’s seat, “we should get to the es

(Isabella’s POV)The night had never felt so long.Every tick of the clock in the mansion’s hallway echoed through my chest, each second dragging behind the other like a shadow refusing to move. I had tried to sleep, tried to close my eyes, tried to imagine myself somewhere else — somewhere safe — but every time I did, the memory of Viktor’s face, his cruel smirk, his whispered threats, haunted me.I couldn’t shake it.The rain had finally stopped, leaving a faint mist that hung over the estate. I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering not from cold, but from the fear that had settled deep in my bones. I kept thinking about Alexander. Where was he? What had happened after I had been carried away from the chaos?And then I heard it.The engine.Low, distant at first, growing closer until the rumble of the tires against the driveway became unmistakable. My heart skipped a beat.Alexander.I wanted to run to the window, to throw myself into the arms of the man who had saved me again an

(Isabella’s POV)The air in the mansion felt heavier than it had ever been. Every creak of the floorboards, every faint whistle of the wind against the windows, made my heart jump. Even in daylight, the shadows clung to the corners, as if refusing to let the night’s horrors go.Alexander had been silent for hours, a storm of rage and calculation buried beneath his calm exterior. I watched him from the doorway, trying to reconcile the man before me with the one I had seen yesterday — bloodied, relentless, and utterly unflinching. The same man who could destroy without hesitation now stood quietly, plotting, strategizing, waiting for the inevitable.“I can feel them,” I whispered, mostly to myself.Alexander turned, eyes sharp as knives. “Feel who?”“The shadows,” I said. “Viktor’s allies. His men. They’re out there, watching, waiting for a weakness.”He nodded, his jaw tight. “Exactly. And we’ll give them none.”I swallowed hard. The words were meant to comfort, but the truth was, I wa

(Isabella’s POV)The morning sun filtered through the shattered windows, casting streaks of gold across the ruined hallway. Dust hung thick in the air, and the faint smell of blood mixed with smoke clung to everything. My knees ached from crouching, from fighting, from surviving. Every inch of me felt heavy, weighed down by exhaustion and adrenaline that refused to leave my system.Alexander moved silently across the room, surveying the aftermath with precise, methodical attention. His hands were bloodied, his jaw clenched, but his eyes held that same unyielding fire I had come to know — the fire that both terrified and mesmerized me. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. I understood the storm that raged behind his gaze.I followed him to the war room, where maps and reports had been updated with new intel. The blueprints of our home now bore fresh annotations, highlighting weak points and potential entryways that could be exploited.“They’ll come again,” he murmured, not looking at me

(Isabella’s POV)The first light of dawn crept across the mansion grounds, brushing the scorched walls with a weak, almost hesitant glow. I sat on the edge of the bed, fingers brushing over the bloodstained fabric of my clothing, each touch a stark reminder of the violence we had survived. My body ached, muscles sore from hours of combat, but it wasn’t the pain that weighed on me. It was the knowledge that the danger wasn’t over — not by a long shot.Alexander moved silently in the adjacent room, his presence a constant, unspoken reassurance and a reminder of the storm that lived inside him. He didn’t need to speak; I could feel his tension, the taut line of energy that coiled around him like a predator ready to strike. His gaze, even from a distance, cut sharper than any blade.I rose, stretching my stiff limbs, and approached the war room. Maps, surveillance photos, and reports were spread across the table like pieces of a puzzle — each fragment a potential clue, each line a whisper