All Chapters of The Heirmaker's Bride: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

“I called you,” Nikolai continued, emotions finally breaking through the tight control he’d been holding all day. “Every night. Like always.”Damian stared at him.“I thought…” Nikolai’s voice wavered, anger and hurt colliding painfully. “I thought maybe you didn’t want to talk to me anymore.”Damian’s stomach dropped.Realization dawned slowly.Then all at once.He leaned back slightly, stunned.“Nikolai,” he said carefully, “I never ignored your calls.”“Yes you did.”“I didn’t.”“You didn’t answer!”“Because I wasn’t getting them.”“That doesn’t even make sense!”Damian ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply as clarity snapped brutally into place.The estate.The rush.The missing phone.He stared at Nikolai for a long second.Then...Unexpectedly...He laughed.Not mockingly.Not dismissively.But with genuine disbelief at the absurdity of the situation.Nikolai’s eyes widened, offense flashing instantly.“It’s not funny!”Damian held up a hand, still smiling faintly. “No,

The question was casual.But it landed like a detonator.Sera’s spine stiffened almost imperceptibly.“…Russia,” she replied smoothly.Damian tilted his head slightly.“No,” he said quietly. “I mean originally.”The air shifted.Nikolai’s eyes flicked sharply toward his mother.Sera’s mind moved instantly, years of practiced control snapping into place with surgical precision.“Russian background,” she answered calmly.Damian studied her.There it was again.That voice.That cadence.That unsettling, infuriating familiarity.He leaned forward slightly.“Your voice,” he said slowly, “sounds familiar.”Sera’s heart slammed violently against her ribs.Every nerve in her body lit up.Professional composure became a matter of survival.“I doubt that,” she said lightly.“I don’t.”“Patients often project familiarity.”“This is not projection.”Her fingers tightened subtly around her fork.Damian’s gaze sharpened.Because it wasn’t just the voice.It was something else.Something maddeningly

Sera remained completely unaware of the storm gathering far beyond her field of vision.Morning unfolded gently over Moscow, pale winter light slipping through the curtains of the apartment as the city stirred beneath its soft blanket of snow. Inside, the world felt almost deceptively ordinary.Routine.Familiar.Safe.And today carried significance.Nikolai’s program day.Sera moved through the kitchen with quiet efficiency, preparing breakfast while her mind balanced a thousand maternal thoughts at once. She had barely slept, though not from anxiety over the event itself.Her restlessness had a different source.One she refused to name.Nikolai bounded into the kitchen, energy restored to its usual vibrant levels, the shadows of previous days replaced by unmistakable excitement.“Mama, you’re making too much food.”She didn’t look up from the stove. “You’ll need energy.”“It’s not a marathon.”“It’s an important day.”He grinned, sliding into his chair. “You’re more nervous than I a

The MC’s voice carried warmly through the auditorium, smooth and practiced, filling the space with that buoyant energy unique to school programs.“…and now we move into one of the most anticipated segments of today’s exhibition…”Applause rippled again, lighter now, threaded with excitement as parents leaned forward in their seats.One by one, children took the stage.Tiny shoes tapping nervously against polished wood.Soft voices amplified through microphones that felt far too large for their owners.There were paintings first.Bright splashes of color held up with pride.Abstract shapes interpreted by enthusiastic teachers as “emotional expressions.”The audience responded with affectionate laughter and applause.Then came a robotics group.A small machine rolled uncertainly across the stage, its creator narrating every movement with breathless intensity.“It can detect obstacles,” the boy declared.The robot promptly collided with the podium.The hall erupted into warm laughter.Se

Adrik’s brows knitted.Sera’s voice softened slightly, though tension vibrated beneath it.“For some reason,” she murmured, eyes never leaving Nikolai, “this matters to him.”Adrik followed her gaze.Nikolai stood glowing under the lights.And at the back...Damian Blackwell’s eyes were locked onto the boy with an intensity that made Adrik’s stomach tighten.Something about that connection…Something about the invisible current threading between them…Sent a quiet, unfamiliar unease through him.Still...His instincts remained defensive.“Sera,” he said firmly, “you don’t owe Damian Blackwell anything.”The name struck like a match to dry tinder.Because that assumption... That interpretation... Was wrong.Painfully wrong.And Sera could not correct it.“I don’t care about Damian,” she said.The lie came smoothly.Practiced.Deadly.Adrik watched her carefully.“You’re sure.”“Yes.”“Then why...”“Because Nikolai asked.”The words cut clean.Simple.Unassailable.Adrik leaned back slo