Todos los capítulos de His Billion-Dollar Secret: Capítulo 111 - Capítulo 120

Ethan’s POVI didn’t expect goodbyes to feel like fading out of my own life.For days, I’ve been drifting through the office like a ghost—quiet steps, quick nods, avoiding anything that lasts longer than a polite exchange. People notice, of course. They always do. They just don’t ask.Except Lydia.She’s leaning against the pantry counter when I walk in, coffee in hand, looking half awake and fully judgmental. Her eyes track me before I even reach for a mug.“You look like someone unplugged your soul,” she says.Classic Lydia.I force a smile that feels thin. “I’m fine.”“Which is exactly what people say when they’re absolutely not fine.”I don’t respond. Lydia watches me for a moment, then sighs into her cup like the weight of my emotional crisis personally inconveniences her.“Just… don’t disappear without telling her,” she mutters.My hand tightens around the mug. “I’m not disappearing.”She hums. “That’s what you think.”She leaves before I can answer, and the silence she leaves b

Damian’s POV I’ve handled billion-peso mergers, boardroom battles, hostile negotiations, and executives with egos bigger than skyscrapers. I’ve given speeches to hundreds, stared down investors twice my age, and rebuilt entire departments from scratch. But nothing—absolutely nothing—has ever made my hands shake like the idea of asking Amara to marry me. The velvet box on my desk might as well be a live bomb. “This shouldn’t be this terrifying,” I mutter. And yet it is—because this isn’t business. It’s her. And she matters in ways I spent years refusing to admit. Footsteps pass by in the hallway, and I snap the box shut, slipping it into my pocket. Even hidden, it feels heavy. Like it’s carrying every hope I buried, every longing I tried to suffocate, and every future I didn’t let myself imagine until she came back. The proposal has to be perfect. Not extravagant—Amara doesn’t care about that. I don’t need fireworks or a grand hotel ballroom or a dozen photographers. I just need

Sophia’s POVPower was a funny thing.People thought you lost it the moment you stepped out of a building or left a title behind. But real power didn’t come from a desk or a nameplate.Real power lived in information.Secrets.Leverage.And I had plenty of that.Amara followed me into a small meeting room on the 18th floor. I chose this room on purpose—quiet, isolated, and well out of Damian’s line of sight. A place where conversations could slip through cracks unnoticed.She closed the door behind her, shoulders tight, fingers gripping her folder. She tried to look composed. Tried not to show she was afraid.She should’ve been.“Relax, Amara,” I said, settling gracefully into a chair and crossing my legs. “I didn’t bring you here to fight.”She didn’t sit.Of course she didn’t.“What do you want? ” she asked, voice steady but strained.Straightforward. Good. She wasn’t as naive as she used to be.I tilted my head. “It’s been a while. You could at least pretend to be civil.”“I’m busy

Damian’s POVI knew something was wrong before she ever said a word.Actually—before, she avoided saying anything at all.Amara had always been guarded. Thoughtful. Careful with her emotions. But she wasn’t evasive. She didn’t disappear behind politeness or distance herself without reason. If something weighed on her, she carried it quietly—but she didn’t shut me out.Not like this.By midmorning, it was impossible to ignore.She didn’t stop by my office the way she usually did, coffee in hand, flipping through notes while talking like the space between us was effortless. She didn’t text during meetings, but she made dry observations that made the hours bearable. When I passed her in the hallway, she smiled—but it was detached. Polite. The kind of smile meant for someone you don’t really know.It unsettled me.I caught her after lunch.“Amara,” I said, stepping into her path without cornering her. “Do you have a minute? ”She stopped. Turned. Met my eyes.For half a second, I thought

Amara's POV I used to believe that love meant knowing when to step away.That sometimes the bravest thing you could do was leave quietly—before your presence became a liability, before the people you loved had to carry the consequences of things that were never their fault.It was a lesson I learned early.Long before Damian.Long before Cruz Holdings.Long before my name meant anything beyond my own family.That night, I sat alone in my office long after the building had emptied. The overhead lights had dimmed automatically, leaving the city beyond the glass reduced to fractured reflections and distant noise. The folder Sophia had shown me was locked inside my desk drawer, but it felt like it was pressed directly against my ribs.I didn’t need to see it again.I already knew every detail.Names.Dates.Signatures.My father’s.My uncle’s.Financial fraud born from desperation—collapsing businesses, unpaid debts, choices made to survive that hardened into crimes they never escaped. E