Semua Bab Protecting the Billionaire’s Daughter: Bab 91 - Bab 100

Aria's POVMy phone buzzed on the nightstand with a finality that made my stomach turn. I didn’t even have to look at the screen to know who it was. For forty-eight hours, I had been caught in a digital crossfire. On one side, Timi—his name flashing across my screen every twenty minutes, leaving voicemails that I refused to play, sending long, rambling texts that I scrolled through with a numb heart. On the other side, Lina.I picked up the phone.Lina: Aria, I love you. You are my sister. But I cannot do this. I cannot watch you hold the hand of the man who destroyed me. It’s him or me. If you stay with him, if you even keep him in your life, I’m out. I can’t be friends with a woman who justifies what he did.I dropped the phone back onto the bed. The ultimatum felt like a physical weight pressing down on my chest. Choosing between the woman who had held me together during my hard time and the man who had mad

Aria's POVThe morning light filtered through the blinds in thin, mocking strips of gold. After the night we’d spent together, the atmosphere in the house had shifted from a battlefield to a weary truce. We were sitting at the kitchen island, coffee cooling between us, the silence no longer sharp but heavy with the weight of the "what now."Damon leaned forward, his elbows on the marble counter, his eyes searching mine with a desperation that made him look like a boy lost in the woods."Aria," he whispered, "I have an idea. What if we just... leave? What if we sell the house, pack everything tonight, and just run away? We could start over in a different city, a different country. We could leave the mess, the lies, and Brenda behind. We could just be us again."I looked him dead straight in the eye, my expression as cold as the tile beneath my feet. The sheer cowardice of the suggestion made my skin crawl. "That is not going to happen, Damon. You don't get to run away from the life you

Damon’s POVThe air in the guest room felt like it was being sucked out through a vacuum. I stared at the photograph in my hand—the man with my face, my jawline, even the slight crook in the bridge of my nose. He was holding a child, a boy with eyes that mirrored mine so perfectly it felt like looking into a distorted past."Damon," Aria whispered, her voice trembling as she gripped my arm. "Do you have a twin? A brother? Someone your parents never told you about?"I shook my head, my mind spinning in a dizzying whirlpool of confusion. "No. I’m an only child. My parents… they would have told me. There’s no one." I traced the edge of the photo, my thumb stopping at the man’s wrist. My heart skipped a beat. "But look at this. Aria, look."On the man’s wrist in the photo was a small, jagged cross tattoo. I slowly lifted my own right hand, revealing the exact same ink in the

The drive to the laboratory was a blur of high-speed turns and suffocating silence. We didn’t speak. There was nothing left to say that wouldn’t make the air turn to poison. The woman who claimed to be our mother stayed at the house, a weeping monument to a past we were currently trying to outrun. We chose a facility on the other side of the city, a high-end private lab with a reputation for absolute discretion and precision. I needed to know. I needed a piece of paper to tell me that the universe wasn’t this cruel.The technician took our swabs with a robotic efficiency that I envied. He didn't know that those two cotton sticks held the power to either save our souls or condemn them to a lifetime of shame."You’ll receive the results via encrypted email in three to five business days," he said, tapping on his tablet.Three to five days. It felt like a death row sentence.By the time we pul

My lungs felt like they were filled with dry sand. Every breath was a struggle as I stared at that red and sky-blue scarf. The fabric seemed to pulse with a mocking energy. My mother was gone. My daughters—my eleven-month-old miracles—were gone. The silence in the house was no longer a sanctuary; it was a scream."Lina!" Damon roared, his voice cracking as he fumbled with his phone. "Call Lina! Tell her to get here now!"I didn't ask why. I grabbed my phone with trembling fingers and dialed. Lina picked up on the first ring, her voice already high with anxiety. When I told her—screamed at her—that the girls and Esther were missing, she didn't even say goodbye. Ten minutes later, her car skidded into our driveway."I’m here! I’m here!" she cried, sprinting through the open front door. "Damon, I’ve got the tracking app open. I put a secondary ping on Esther’s phone months ago whe