All Chapters of Loving The Wrong Billionaire: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Adrian's Pov For a long moment, I didn’t move.I just stared at the driver’s phone, the words burning into my mind like they had been carved with fire.Blackmail. Manipulation. Seduction. Control.Ethan had used them all.He was twisting Clara into the kind of person he wanted the world to believe she was—heartless, dangerous, cruel. The kind of woman who could destroy a man without guilt.Not the woman breathing fast inside my car.Not the woman whose hands trembled every time she remembered what he had done to her.Not the woman who still apologized for defending herself.My jaw locked as a sharp, cold anger settled in my chest. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t wild.It was precise.Deadly.I turned slowly toward the car where Clara sat waiting, her shoulders small, her eyes wide with fear she thought she was hiding.“Sir?” the driver asked carefully. “Should I—”“Open the door,” I said.He did.Clara looked up, her eyes searching my face the moment I stepped inside. She could tell someth

Adrian's Pov The darkness hit like a wall. The penthouse, sleek and modern, became a maze of shadows. One second, I was standing beside Clara, holding her hand, steadying her trembling fingers. The next, the lights cut out completely, leaving only the city’s distant glow spilling through the floor-to-ceiling windows.I froze, ears straining. Silence hung thick and heavy. Then—soft, almost imperceptible—the faint scrape of movement across polished wood.I tightened my grip on Clara’s hand. Her breath hitched. “Adrian… what—what is that?”“Stay close to me,” I murmured, my voice low and controlled. My muscles tensed like coiled steel. Every fiber of me screamed that someone was inside. Someone with intent.The faint glow from my phone illuminated her face. She was pale, wide-eyed, and terrified—but still strong. Strong enough to stand there with me, even in the middle of this nightmare.I motioned her back toward the hallway. “Move,” I whispered. “Keep low.”We moved like shadows, sile

Clara's pov The moment the intruder’s voice echoed in the room, my stomach dropped. Every nerve in my body screamed, warning me of danger I couldn’t see clearly yet. I pressed myself closer to Adrian, feeling the steady weight of him behind me—a shield I both needed and resented because it reminded me how fragile I felt.The intruder stepped forward slowly, deliberately. The dim light caught their face just enough for me to see the sharp, familiar features. Panic clawed at my chest, suffocating and relentless.Adrian’s hand tightened on my back. “Stay calm. Don’t move,” he murmured. His voice was quiet but firm, steadying me, grounding me when my thoughts were spinning out of control.The intruder’s eyes locked on mine. My heart skipped a beat. It was someone from my past, someone I had hoped never to see again. The memory of them brought fear and a surge of adrenaline, making it impossible to think straight.“Clara Hayes,” the figure said again, their voice low and sharp, smooth lik

Clara's pov I didn’t know whether to feel numb or burning with adrenaline as I stared at the photo on Adrian’s phone. It wasn’t just a picture. It was a warning. A message. A reminder that they were always watching, always one step ahead.My hands trembled, but I forced myself to breathe. One, two, three… slow, even breaths. I had survived Ethan. I had survived the leaked video, the lawsuit, the headlines. And now this. Now… this.Adrian’s presence beside me grounded me, though his own tension radiated in waves. He didn’t speak immediately, just stared at the screen, jaw tight, eyes narrowed. His hand found mine, squeezing it once, firm and grounding.“They’re bold,” I whispered, barely audible. “Too bold.”“They’ve underestimated us before,” he said quietly, voice like steel. “And they’re about to learn they can’t do it again.”I swallowed hard, trying to find courage in his certainty. “How… how do they even know where I am? How did they…?”Adrian cut me off with a look sharp enough

Adrian's Pov The room was silent at first. Too silent.I sat on the edge of the couch, hands folded tightly in my lap, staring at the pale walls of the safe house. Every shadow seemed alive, every creak of the building a warning. My chest felt tight, like a fist was pressing against it.Adrian moved around the room, checking cameras, scanning monitors, his face taut, his movements precise. I wanted to speak, to ask questions, to shake him and demand answers, but my throat felt tight, my words trapped somewhere inside.“They’re out there,” he said finally, without looking at me. “And they’re not going to wait long.”I flinched at his tone. “They… they’re already coming?”He didn’t answer immediately. His jaw tightened, and I saw his fingers curl into fists at his sides. Then, finally, he said, “Yes. But we’re ready. At least as ready as we can be.”I swallowed hard, feeling the fear curl into my stomach. “Ready?” I echoed, my voice almost breaking. “How do you even get ready for somet