Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Billionaire's Secret Bride : Kabanata 71 - Kabanata 80

Evelyn’s footsteps echoed lightly against the marble floor as she left the office hallway behind. The click of the door shutting behind her sounded louder than it should have, a punctuation mark that felt like the world had split open. Her chest tightened, each breath shallow and rapid, her mind replaying the image she had just seen—Ethan and Ariana, inches apart, the electricity between them palpable.She didn’t know why she had come. Curiosity? Habit? Or some foolish, desperate hope that she might catch him alone, that she might finally understand him again. But now, standing in the quiet corridor, the truth hit her harder than she expected: she shouldn’t have come.Her fingers clenched the edge of her purse, nails biting into the leather, a small, sharp pain grounding her. She hated herself for trusting him again, for thinking, even for a second, that he could be the man she once loved without heartbreak trailing behind him like smoke.Evelyn swallowed hard, forcing herself to move

Evelyn didn’t even realize her hands were shaking until she closed the kitchen door behind her and heard her own breath — fast, sharp, ragged. It sounded like panic trapped inside her ribs. Morning light spilled across the tiles in a thin, cold sheet. The house smelled like coffee and rain from last night’s storm, but none of it felt real. Ethan was at the counter pouring coffee like it was just any morning. Like her world hadn’t tilted sideways three days ago. Like he didn’t break something in her she didn’t know he still could break. “Don’t act like nothing happened,” she said. Her voice came out small, broken-glass quiet. It stopped him mid-pour. His shoulders stiffened. Just slightly. But she saw it. That smallest flinch that told the truth before words could catch up. He set the mug down. Didn’t turn around yet. “Evelyn…” “No.” Her throat burned. “Don’t you dare say my name like that.” He froze — not physically, more like internally, like someone hit pause somewhere behin

The sun dipped lower, turning the sky a pale wash of gold and pink. Aria tugged at Alex’s hood as he wobbled down the boardwalk, Evan skipping beside Lila who held Mrs. Grace’s hand like a lifeline. Ice cream dripped down the cones they carried, and the scent of waffle cones and saltwater mixed with the summer air. Joe fell in step beside her, silent, letting her lead. There was no need to fill the space with words—she knew he would follow, patient, waiting for her to sort through her tangled thoughts. Aria kept her eyes on the children, but she felt him there. Close. Just close enough that when the heat brushed against her arm, she flinched slightly. Not from fear, but from the memory of wanting him, from the pulse in her chest that refused to calm. She swallowed. “They’re… a handful,” she said, voice low. He glanced at her, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Understatement of the year,” he replied, quiet, teasing—but his eyes lingered on hers, soft, waiting. She drew in a shak

The apartment was quiet, a fragile kind of quiet that followed the storm of bedtime. Aria sank onto the couch, still catching her breath from chasing tiny feet and negotiating bedtime tantrums. The soft hum of the city outside filtered through the open window, a distant reminder that life continued beyond these walls. Mrs. Grace was in her usual chair by the kitchen nook, knitting needles moving with precise rhythm, her eyes flicking up occasionally to Aria. “Tea?” she asked, voice soft but firm. “Or are we skipping comfort tonight?” “Tea,” Aria said immediately, rubbing her hands together as if the motion could warm her from the inside out. She dropped into the armchair across from Mrs. Grace, letting her shoulders slump, heavy with exhaustion—and something else. Something that had been weighing on her since Joe had shown up. “You look like you’ve carried the world home with you,” Mrs. Grace remarked, tilting her head, eyes sharp behind the faint haze of her glasses. Aria lau

The restaurant door swung shut behind them with a soft thud, and the night wrapped itself around Aria like something warm and unexpected. Cool breeze, faint hum of traffic, that low golden glow of streetlights softening everything. Joe unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for her — an old gesture, but it did something to her chest anyway. She slid in, smoothing her dress automatically, like she needed something to do with her hands. Her pulse still hadn’t decided on a rhythm since he touched her hand across the table. Just once. Light. But it stayed there, buzzing under her skin. The car smelled like cedar and mint. Something clean. Joe got in, started the engine, didn’t say anything for a moment. The radio was low, some late-night jazz nobody really listens to on purpose, but it fit. The city lights flickered across his face as they pulled out. Strong jaw, tired eyes, a tiny crease between his eyebrows like he was thinking too hard. They drove in silence. Comfortable