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

The room felt smaller than it should have. Heavy air. Shadows cast by the chandelier danced across polished walls, and every movement—the shuffle of feet, a breath, the slight whine of the air-conditioning—seemed magnified. Aria’s hands fidgeted in her lap. Evan pressed against her side, small and stiff, his knuckles brushing hers. Lily’s head leaned on her other shoulder, eyes wide, silent. They didn’t speak, but they didn’t need to. Aria felt every one of their heartbeats. The door banged open. Heavy footsteps. And then they were there—Ethan and his parents—storming into the room with that sharp, controlled rage of people used to getting what they wanted. “What is this?” Mr. Voss’s voice was loud, commanding, full of disbelief. “Who are these children? Who are you? And what do you want?” Aria’s throat went dry. The words felt lodged somewhere between her lungs and her teeth. She opened her mouth, closed it. “Speak!” Mrs. Voss demanded, her eyes narrowing. Mia stepped forward,

Aria didn’t remember how she got there. Only that at some point, the hospital doors had spat her out, and the city had swallowed her whole. Traffic. Noise. Heat. Breath burning her lungs. Her phone clutched in her hand like it was the last thing keeping her upright. Voss Global. His building rose ahead of her—glass and steel and power. Too clean. Too tall. Too untouched by the kind of pain that hollowed people out from the inside. She ran. Past the revolving doors. Past the polished floor that reflected her disheveled reflection at her—hair loose, eyes wild, blouse wrinkled, hands shaking. “Ma’am—” “I need to see him!” she shouted, voice cracking before it even found its strength. “I need to see Liam Voss. Now. I need to talk to him.” The receptionist blinked, startled. “Do you have an appointment?” “No,” Aria snapped. “I have a dying child. I have a child who needs his blood.” The words fell into the air, heavy and ugly and real. A few heads turned. Security moved faster t

Aria stared at the blank page until it blurred.The room was too quiet. The kind of quiet that rang in your ears, that made every breath feel too loud. Allen slept fitfully on the narrow hospital bed beside her, his small chest rising unevenly, lips pale against the white sheets. A machine hummed. Soft. Unforgiving.She pressed the pen harder than necessary against the paper.Nothing came.Her hand shook. She curled her fingers into a fist, then forced them open again. Write, she told herself. If you don’t write now, you’ll never do it.“Please,” she whispered—to who, she didn’t know.The pen finally moved.> Liam,She stopped, crossed it out. Wrote it again.> Mr. Voss—No, too cold, too distant. She scratched it out, ink bleeding into the page.Her chest tightened. She closed her eyes, breathing shallow, counting in fours the way the nurse had taught her. When she opened them, she wrote without stopping, afraid that if she paused, courage would leave her completely.> Liam,I don’t

The television screen in the hospital room flickered, a harsh blue light cutting through the sterile quiet. Aria sat on the edge of the bed, her hands pressed against her knees, knuckles white. The children were asleep, clustered together like fragile little birds under the thin blankets. Allen’s chest rose and fell too slowly for comfort, each breath a sharp reminder that time was not on their side.The news feed scrolled across the bottom of the screen: “Breaking: Liam Voss addresses rumors…”Aria’s stomach twisted. Her fingers itched to cover her ears, but she couldn’t look away.“…I want to make this absolutely clear,” Liam’s voice rang from the television, smooth, controlled, unwavering. “The allegations regarding Miss Hayes’ children are false. I am not the father. Any speculation otherwise is unfounded, and I will not be commenting further. Thank you.”The camera panned over the reporters, flashing lights, microphones pushed forward like the tips of swords. Liam stood there, sh

The silence stretched. Not the quiet kind, the kind that pressed against the chest until breathing felt deliberate. Ethan stood in the doorway, one hand resting against the frame like it was the only thing keeping him upright. The hospital light behind him cast a harsh glow, flattening his features, but it couldn’t hide the tension in his jaw—or the way his eyes went straight to the small body on the bed. Allen. So still. Aria didn’t move. Her body reacted before her mind did—every muscle locking, spine straightening, fingers curling into her palms. Joe felt it immediately, the way she stiffened beside him, the way her breathing went shallow. Mia turned first. Her mouth parted. “Ethan?” He nodded once, just once. Like anything more would break him. “I’m here,” he said quietly. Joe stepped half a pace forward, instinctively placing himself between Ethan and Aria without meaning to. “Why? What are you doing here.” Ethan’s gaze flicked to him, then back to Aria. He didn’t answ