All Chapters of The Billionaire's Secret Bride: Chapter 91 - Chapter 96

Aria woke up already tired.Not the kind of tired that sleep fixes, but the kind that lives behind the ribs. The kind that hums quietly even when the house is still.London mornings were different. Softer somehow. The light crept in sideways, pale and polite, slipping through the curtains like it didn’t want to intrude. The triplets were still asleep—miracle of miracles—and Aria lay there for a few seconds longer, staring at the ceiling, letting the unfamiliar quiet settle.Monday.Not today. But close enough to feel it breathing down her neck.She slipped out of bed carefully, pulling on a sweater, padding into the kitchen. The kettle went on. She leaned against the counter while it heated, forehead resting briefly on the cabinet.You’re doing the right thing, she told herself.She’d been saying that a lot lately.Mia shuffled in, hair a mess, wearing one of Aria’s old hoodies like it had always belonged to her.“You’re up early,” Mia said, yawning.“Couldn’t sleep.”“Of course you c

By the time Aria stepped out of the building, evening had already begun to loosen its grip on the day.London wore dusk well—streetlights flickering on like quiet promises, the air cool enough to make her pull her coat tighter around herself. Her heels clicked against the pavement, slower than they had that morning. Not from exhaustion exactly. From weight. The good kind. The kind that sat heavy in her chest and made her breathe a little differently.Her phone buzzed.Mia: We’re home. And before you ask—yes, they survived daycare. Barely. Allen demanded a second snack like he pays rent.Aria smiled, the kind that tugged at her mouth before she could stop it.She typed back quickly.Aria: I’m on my way. Save me some sanity.Mia: No promises.The ride home felt shorter than usual. Or maybe she was just replaying the day in her head too fast—Mr. Keane’s voice, the word Senior, the office that had been hers without warning. The quiet moment when she’d sat alone, hands trembling, and reali

“What?” The word wasn’t loud. It wasn’t sharp. It was stunned. Bare. Like Tracy hadn’t prepared her face for it at all. Evelyn didn’t repeat herself. Couldn’t. The sentence had taken something out of her, like a rib slipping loose. “I don’t think I can continue with this wedding,” she said again anyway, quieter now, like maybe volume could soften impact. Tracy took a step back. Then another. She sank onto the velvet couch as if her knees had… given up. “You’re serious,” she said. Evelyn nodded. Once. Small. Controlled. Tracy ran a hand through her hair. Let out a breath that sounded like she’d been holding it longer than Evelyn realized. “Okay,” Tracy said slowly. “Okay. Then we need to talk. Like—really talk. Not vague-feelings talk. Not ‘I’m overwhelmed’ talk.” Evelyn swallowed. “What happened?” Tracy asked. The mirror caught everything. The way Evelyn’s shoulders lifted. The way her fingers twisted the lace at her hip until it wrinkled. “Evie,” Tracy said, firmer now.