All Chapters of A NIGHT WITH MY BILLIONAIRE BOSS : Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Lily’s POV…..Time doesn’t move.It fractures.The gunshot doesn’t arrive as a sound first—it comes as a vibration, a violent ripple that tears through the air and into my bones. The world slows, stretches, like someone dragged reality through thick honey.Glass shatters.Not all at once. One pane explodes outward, shards catching the light as they spin like diamonds suspended midair. I watch them fall in lazy arcs, hear nothing, feel everything.Andrew’s hand tightens around mine.He’s still standing.I’m still standing.For a single, terrifying heartbeat, I don’t know if that means we’re alive—or just haven’t realized we’re dead yet.Ryan hits the floor.It’s not dramatic. No villain monologue, no final words. His wheelchair tips sideways, metal screeching against tile, his body collapsing in an ugly sprawl. Blood pools fast, spreading beneath him, dark and unreal.I stare.I don’t feel triumph.I don’t feel relief.I feel… empty.Then the world rushes back in all at once.Shouting.

Lily’s POV…..Andrew wakes me before the sun is up.At first, I’m only aware of warmth—his palm resting on my waist, his breath soft against the back of my neck. Then his lips brush my shoulder, slow and deliberate, and I stir with a quiet hum.“Morning, wife,” he murmurs, voice low and intimate.I smile into the pillow. “It’s too early to be charming.”“It’s never too early,” he says, kissing me again. “Get dressed. I’m kidnapping you.”That makes me turn. I squint at him through sleep-heavy lashes. “Kidnapping? After everything we’ve been through, you think that’s wise?”He grins, that familiar crooked smile that still makes my heart trip over itself. “Trust me.”I should ask questions. I don’t.Instead, I stretch, steal a quick kiss from him, and slide out of bed. The morning light spills through the windows, painting everything gold and soft. For the first time in a long while, the world feels quiet. No sirens. No fear. Just us.Andrew hands me a simple dress—soft fabric, light co

Sophia’s POV…..Pain was the first thing I noticed.Not sharp. Not unbearable. Just… heavy. Like someone had wrapped my head in cotton and tightened it too much. Every thought moved slowly, dragging itself forward like it had to wade through water to reach the surface.The second thing was light.Too bright. Too white. It hurt my eyes, even when they were barely open. I blinked once. Twice. The ceiling stared back at me—smooth, unfamiliar, humming softly with machines I didn’t recognize.Hospital.I knew that much. Somehow.My head throbbed again, and I squeezed my eyes shut, swallowing against a wave of nausea.“Easy,” a voice said softly.A man.I opened my eyes again.He was sitting close—too close for a stranger, I thought distantly, but something about him didn’t feel wrong. Dark hair slightly disheveled. Eyes rimmed red, like he hadn’t slept in days. His hands were clasped together so tightly his knuckles were white.He was watching me like I might disappear if he blinked.Conce

Sophia’s Pov…The drive was quiet.Not uncomfortable—just… heavy. Like the air itself was still figuring out where it belonged.I watched the city blur past the window, streetlights streaking gold against the dark, my reflection faintly visible in the glass. Every few seconds, my eyes flicked back to Adrian’s hands on the steering wheel. Long fingers. Steady grip. No hesitation.He drove like someone who always knew where he was going.I didn’t.When the car slowed and turned into a private road lined with tall hedges and soft lights, I sat up a little straighter.“Where are we?” I asked.Adrian glanced at me briefly. “Home.”The gates opened smoothly, silently, and the car rolled forward.Then I saw it.My breath caught.The house rose before us—modern and imposing, all glass and stone and clean lines. Warm light spilled from tall windows, illuminating a sweeping driveway and manicured greenery that looked almost unreal after months of hospital white.“Wow,” I breathed before I could

Sophia’s POV…..I woke up to silence.Not the sterile, humming silence of hospital machines or the constant footsteps of nurses passing my door—but a different kind. The kind that felt wide. Open. Almost too big for me to hold.For a moment, I didn’t move. I lay there staring at the ceiling, my body heavy, my head throbbing faintly like it did in the hospital when I first opened my eyes. Morning light slipped through the curtains, pale and soft, touching the edges of the room like it didn’t want to startle me.This is real, I told myself.I was not dreaming. I was not floating between memories I didn’t have. I was awake, in a house that wasn’t mine but somehow was, surrounded by a life I was expected to step back into without instructions.Slowly, I pushed myself upright.I swung my legs over the bed and stood, the cool floor grounding me. I wore the sweater Lily had given me, sleeves too long, soft against my skin. It smelled faintly like lavender and something warmer—home, maybe. O