Semua Bab Hiding the Billionaire's Heir: Bab 11 - Bab 20

Katya’s eyelashes fluttered as consciousness dragged her back. The first thing she felt was the coldness of the sheets, then the heaviness in her limbs… and then the hollow panic in her chest. Monitors beeped gently beside her. IV drip. The faint smell of antiseptic. She blinked— And froze. He was there. Ethan. Sitting in the visitor’s chair like he belonged in the room, elbows on his knees, fingers steepled under his mouth. He didn’t speak. He didn’t move. He just watched her wake, expression carved in stone—controlled, unreadable, terrifying. Her pulse stumbled. “Where… where’s Marco?” Katya whispered, throat raw. Ethan didn’t blink. “Outside the room. Talking to your friend.” Mia. Of course Mia wouldn’t leave her. Katya swallowed, wishing the earth would open and swallow her whole. “You shouldn’t be here.” He tilted his head slightly, like a predator amused by prey trying to run with broken legs. “You fainted at work,” he said, voice low, controlled. “The

The air outside the hospital felt too bright, too clean, too full of life for someone who felt like she was falling apart from the inside. Katya’s legs trembled as she stepped out of the car, the hospital discharge papers still folded in her bag like heavy secrets. Three days before her wedding. Marco’s fingers hovered near her arm, like he wasn’t sure if touching her would help or break her further. “Katya…” His voice cracked. “Our wedding is in three days.” She froze. His words wrapped around her chest like chains tightening. “Let's stop this” she whispered. Hope flickered in his eyes. “You’re just overwhelmed and The stress—” “No.” She shook her head, her throat tightening. “It’s not the stress. It’s… me.” Silence swallowed them. “I don’t think we should get married.” Marco blinked, disbelief slicing across his face. “What?” “I need time. I need space. I don’t want to hurt you.” “Katya, we’ve been together for years. You can’t throw that away because you're

The moment the neighbor’s words sank in, I didn’t think—I just moved. I hurried down the stairs, my footsteps echoing too loudly, too fast. By the time I reached the parking lot, my breathing was uneven, my pulse hammering against my throat. I fumbled with my keys, cursed under my breath, then finally got into the car and started the engine. “Airport… airport… damn it, Katya,” I muttered, slamming my foot on the accelerator. Traffic blurred past me. The city lights smeared against the windshield as I pushed the car faster than I should. My knuckles whitened around the steering wheel. Why didn’t she call? Why didn’t she text? What happened? Why was she leaving—alone, carrying my child? My phone sat in the cup holder, silent. I grabbed it at a stoplight and dialed her number. Ring. Ring. Ring. Voicemail. I tried again. And again. Still nothing. The airport signs finally came into view. My chest tightened so hard it hurt. “Please, Katya… don’t do this,” I whisp

Katya, once not just a sharp lawyer but a hidden heiress to a powerful family fortune, had found her peace, deep in the Costa Rican jungle. Her true identity, her family name, the vast wealth she had rejected—all were buried under the lush canopy. Here, in this small village, far from the suffocating expectations of her past life, she was simply Katya. She worked with local artists, using her sharp mind and organizational skills to connect indigenous weavers and woodcarvers with fair markets. She reviewed contracts, helped with fair pricing, understood regulations, protecting the community's interests. It was hard work, but it felt good, a different kind of justice, a life she had chosen. No one here knew about the dynasty she had abandoned, or the law firm she'd been a part of.Her son, Clyde Arzeus, was four now. He was all energy, with her dark eyes and a mischievous grin that sometimes, just sometimes, made her think of Ethan. Clyde loved the jungle. He knew all the bird calls and

One Hour Later The meeting room at the eco-lodge was simple, with a large wooden table and chairs. The only sound was the distant chirping of birds and the gentle whir of a ceiling fan. Katya sat at one end of the table, a stack of meticulously organized papers in front of her. She wore a simple, functional dress, but her hair was pulled back in a severe bun, and her posture was rigid, reminiscent of her days in the courtroom. Ethan walked in, Davies silently trailing behind him. He took a seat opposite Katya, his gaze sweeping over her, taking in the deliberate formality she had adopted. He almost smiled, a bitter curve of his lips. The lawyer was back. Davies took a chair a little further back, unobtrusive, already pulling out a tablet. "Mr. Dawson," Katya began, her voice steady and clear, no trace of the panic from the market. "Thank you for respecting my request for privacy and for waiting. Let's be very clear about the parameters of this discussion." She pushed a legal pa