บททั้งหมดของ The Billionaire's Unwanted Wife : บทที่ 211 - บทที่ 220

~ ALISTAIR ~I tore through the heavy glass doors of The Sovereign, the cold night air hitting my face like a slap. My chest burned with a furious heat that threatened to devour every shred of restraint I had left.Of course I got his riddle. Simon wasn't just playing innocent; he was openly taunting me, daring me to look closer. The subtle, dangerous malice in his eyes confirmed every terrifying doubt creeping into my mind. My suspicions were becoming real. The man I had treated like a brother for years—the quiet, noble doctor—was a complete stranger. Simon was far more dangerous than anyone had ever realized, hiding a cold, sociopathic monster beneath an immaculate white coat.I slammed the car door shut as I climbed into the driver's seat, pulling my tie completely free and throwing it onto the seat beside me while dialing Evan."Is it done?" I demanded into my phone the second Evan picked up.Before stepping foot inside that lounge earlier, I had already instructed him to run a co

~ ALISTAIR ~ The floor-to-ceiling obsidian paneling of the Velvet Vault—the most exclusive, off-the-books private lounge I owned in New York City—slid open without making a sound. Sitting at the far end of the private suite, Robbie Davis was already waiting. The moment I stepped into the room, his face lit up immediately—a wide, greedy smile spreading across his lips like a man who believed he had just caught a whale in the open sea. "Mr. Montgomery! What a pleasant surprise," Davis greeted formally, standing up slightly to offer a polite bow. I didn't acknowledge his greeting. I didn't offer a smile, a handshake, or a single word. Instead, I strode forward, pulled out the leather armchair directly across from him, and smoothly took my seat. I crossed one leg over the other, leaning back against the cushion, watching him like a sovereign passing judgment on a peasant. Davis cleared his throat awkwardly, settling back into his chair as he tried once more to strike up a conversation

~ ALISTAIR ~The light rain battered the roof of the Maybach as we sped back toward the Montgomery Group headquarters.Staring out the tinted window at the bustling streets, the quiet inside the car felt agonizingly heavy. My mind wasn't there—it had always been with Isla."Sir," Evan spoke softly from the front seat, his voice breaking the silence. "Our legal counsel has just confirmed... Madam has signed the papers. The divorce is officially finalized."I didn't utter a single word. I stayed completely still, but inside, I was utterly wrecked. Our marriage... it was over. The sacred bond we had fought so hard to keep was dissolved by a few strokes of a pen.My fingers tightened around the phone resting in my palm. The rage and unbearable grief surging through my veins gathered into a brutal, crushing grip. The glass screen shattered with a sharp, violent crunch under my hand. Tiny shards pierced my skin, and warm blood began to ooze from my palm, dripping slowly onto my tailored tro

~ ALISTAIR "Find Emery," I commanded, my voice colder than ice as I blew a thin cloud of gray smoke toward the ceiling. "If she isn't at her villa, check Chandler Corporation’s executive floor. Bring her to me.""Yes, Sir." Evan bowed his head sharply and hurried out of the office.While I waited, I stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass window, staring down at the sprawling city skyline below. The dull, throbbing ache in my head and the sharp, burning spasms in my stomach continued to test my endurance, but I welcomed the pain. It was the only thing keeping me grounded—even as it fueled the dark fury surging through my veins.I had never felt so utterly defeated. Isla was nowhere to be found, and I couldn't do a damn thing about it. Each passing second without knowing if she was safe was pure torment. I felt completely useless.No. I can't just sit here and do nothing.I crushed the cigar stub under my shoe, picked up my suit jacket, and walked toward the door. But before I could take

~ ISLA ~ "Easy. Lie back down. Slowly..." Simon’s strong hands caught my arms before I could collapse onto the floor. He guided me back onto the bed, gently lifting my legs and resting my head against the soft pile of pillows. The moment my back landed on the mattress, I squeezed my eyes shut, taking slow, ragged breaths. Gradually, the sharp, tearing spasms in my belly began to subside, leaving behind a dull, hollow ache. “What's happening to me...?” I asked in a weak voice, cold sweat clinging to my skin as unease filled my chest. Simon pulled the chair closer to the edge of the bed and sat down. He made no attempt to touch me, clearly respecting my boundaries, but his eyes radiated deep, professional concern as he leaned in. “Isla..." he sighed softly. "You are in an extremely delicate condition right now. The trauma of the near-fatal blast, combined with neurogenic shock and emotional strain, has put your body under severe stress. Your uterus is reacting with acute contractio