บททั้งหมดของ The billionaire who couldn't steal my heart: บทที่ 31 - บทที่ 40

RONAN POV“Ronan… Ronan, wake up. Ronan!”The voice comes from far away at first, floating through the haze of sleep like an echo. Warm. Soft. Familiar. Too familiar.Annabelle?I groan, half convinced I’m dreaming again because why else would her voice sound so close? Why would she sound as if she’s right beside me?“Ronan!”A hand grips my shoulder and shakes me hard.My eyes fly open.And I’m staring directly into Annabelle’s face. Her real face, not the dream version that smiles at me like she owns gravity. Her hazel eyes are wide with urgency, a few messy strands of hair falling over her forehead, her lips parted slightly.Not a dream.Hell.I suck in a sharp breath and push upright immediately. “Annabelle…”“You scared me!” she whispers harshly. “I’ve been calling you for the past minute. You weren’t moving.”I blink a few times, trying to gather my thoughts. “I… I slept off.”And then everything crashes back in a tidal wave.My mother’s betrayal.The board’s suspension.The hum

VICTORIA POVGrrrng! Grnnnng! GRNNNNG!My phone hasn’t stopped vibrating since dawn. At first, I thought I was dreaming but I kept hearing sounds like a chainsaw buzzing somewhere in the distance until the persistent vibration against my nightstand drags me toward consciousness. I groan, burying my face deeper into the cool satin of my pillow.“For fuck’s sake…” I mumble, voice muffled and thick with sleep.The buzzing stops.Peace.Two seconds later—GRNNNNG!I flinch. The vibration jolts through the penthouse again.I could turn it off. I should turn it off. But my arms feel heavy, my bones jelly, and the idea of moving seems like a betrayal to my own body. So I ignore it and close my eyes again.But then—another sound.At first it’s faint, like soft murmurs. Then louder. Closer. A low rumble of voices mixed with frantic shuffling.I freeze.No. Not inside. But—Outside.What the hell?I force myself upright, wincing at the sudden rush of blood to my head. My penthouse is drenched i

ANNABELLE POVI didn’t expect Ronan to do that to his own mother.For a long moment, I just sat there after hearing the news, staring at my reflection in the blank TV screen. My eyebrows are pinched together, lips parted in disbelief. Ronan Blackthorne, heir to the Blackthorne empire, the man raised under Victoria’s iron grip, my half brother, had actually turned against her. His own mother.Yes, Victoria Blackthorne was evil, agreed. Everyone in the city whispered it now that they know some truths about her, though mostly behind well-guarded lips. But even then, a part of me thought Ronan would always choose blood over justice. Over truth. Over me. When he came to me I thought…Anyways not that it mattered. Victoria had been nothing but a raging storm since the first instant she walked into the café where I used to work. One cold look, one perfectly manicured sneer, and she decided I was beneath her. Trash. A nobody who didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as her and her precious

RONAN POVMy mother has been livid since the rumors began to spread.Not loudly. Not recklessly.No screaming fits. No public meltdowns.That was the most terrifying part.She had gone quiet, the kind of quiet that belongs to predators right before they strike. The calm before a stromThe headlines were everywhere now. Blogs, gossip columns, anonymous forums, whispered conversations in boardrooms and charity galas.Victoria Blackthorne isn’t who we thought she was.Dark secrets behind the Blackthorne empire.All of it traced back to me.And she knew it.She hadn’t confronted me yet. Not a single phone call. Not a threatening message. Not even a passive-aggressive warning dressed as concern.She was calm.And my mother’s calm was always a promise of violence.But until she struck back, I wasn’t stopping.I would hit her with everything I had. Every secret. Every weakness. Every carefully constructed lie she had built her empire on.I was in my apartment when my phone buzzed.Marcus.My

ANABELLE POVThe courtroom smells like polished wood and cold authority.It’s not intimidating because it’s loud. No, it’s intimidating because it’s quiet. Every sound echoes. Every movement feels watched. Even my breathing feels too loud as Ronan and I take our seats behind Miranda.Across the aisle sits Victoria Blackthorne.My stomach tightens.She’s dressed in soft cream, elegant and deliberate, pearls resting against her neck like a symbol of innocence she doesn’t possess. Her posture is perfect. Her expression is serene.If someone didn’t know her, they would think she was the victim. The one offended. She turns her head slightly to face me and our eyes meet. Her lips curve into a faint smile. I look away first, not because I’m afraid, but because I refuse to give her that satisfaction.“This is it,” Miranda murmurs beside me. “First impressions matter.”I nod, though my palms are damp, and my hands are trembling but I’m here for me and for my mother. The bailiff announces the