Semua Bab Secret Baby Of the Ruthless Billionaire: Bab 91 - Bab 100

Bryan's POV I was in the middle of a quarterly board meeting when my assistant, Lia, slipped into the conference room with a tight-lipped expression. She didn't say a word, just set a thick manila envelope down in front of me and gave a small, deliberate nod.I knew that look.Trouble.I let the CFO drone on about revenue projections for another minute before excusing myself. I carried the envelope out of the room, down the hall, and into my office, closing the door behind me.The envelope was marked from Vargas & Associates.I tore it open.Legal paperwork slid out. Neatly typed, clipped together, official-looking in that cold, impersonal way courts had perfected. Custody petition. Emergency hearing. Temporary restraining order request.Lisa's name at the top.My hands tightened on the papers.So this was how she wanted to play it.For days, I hadn't heard from her. Not a call, not a text. I assumed she'd crawl back eventually, tail between her legs, like she always did when things

Lisa's POV The apartment was quiet.Claire had gone to bed hours ago, but sleep refused to come for me. I lay on the old couch, staring up at the ceiling, the dim light from a streetlamp outside casting patterns across the wall.My phone sat on the coffee table, mocking me. I'd checked it every ten minutes since midnight, hoping for a missed call, a text - anything from Eddie.Nothing.Two weeks without hearing his voice.Two weeks without seeing his face.I pulled the old blanket tighter around me. It still smelled faintly like Claire's vanilla detergent, a weird, small comfort. The whole apartment was too small, too loud in the daytime, too empty at night.And tomorrow, I'd have to stand in front of a judge and fight for my son. Fight Bryan. Fight Lia. Fight every bad choice I'd made over the last nine years.I sat up and grabbed my phone. Opened my contacts. Eddie's name was still there. I hadn't been able to bring myself to delete it. The last message I sent him still sat unanswe

Lisa's POV The courtroom was unbearably still.It had been draining-a dozen razor-sharp questions, hours of testimony, moments of brittle calm followed by jagged tension. My voice shook only once when I talked about Eddie's first day of kindergarten, how he'd pressed his face against my leg, eyes wide as he whispered, "Mom, don't leave me." I swallowed every tear before they could fall.Now, all that remained was waiting.I shifted on the hard wooden bench, the lawyer's folder open in my lap. All the evidence was there: photos of bedtime stories, doctor's notes, school projects, videos of us dancing in the living room to bad pop songs. Dozens of witnesses signed affidavits-teachers, neighbors, my sister Claire-vouched for my devotion. Every mother's instinct captured in paper.But there was still a courtroom to sway.Bryan sat across the aisle-sharp suit, still posture. His eyes fixed forward. Not angry anymore, just resolute. Beside him, Lia looked composed, unsmiling. Not pitying,

Lisa's POV The courtroom was unbearably still.It had been draining-a dozen razor-sharp questions, hours of testimony, moments of brittle calm followed by jagged tension. My voice shook only once when I talked about Eddie's first day of kindergarten, how he'd pressed his face against my leg, eyes wide as he whispered, "Mom, don't leave me." I swallowed every tear before they could fall.Now, all that remained was waiting.I shifted on the hard wooden bench, the lawyer's folder open in my lap. All the evidence was there: photos of bedtime stories, doctor's notes, school projects, videos of us dancing in the living room to bad pop songs. Dozens of witnesses signed affidavits-teachers, neighbors, my sister Claire-vouched for my devotion. Every mother's instinct captured in paper.But there was still a courtroom to sway.Bryan sat across the aisle-sharp suit, still posture. His eyes fixed forward. Not angry anymore, just resolute. Beside him, Lia looked composed, unsmiling. Not pitying,

Bryan's POV The house felt bigger at night.Or maybe emptier.The quiet wasn't peaceful anymore. It was heavy. Like every silence came with a memory attached to it - the echo of a laugh down the hall, the sound of sneakers scuffing against the hardwood, the muffled chords of Eddie's old guitar strumming out of tune.I stared down the hallway toward Eddie's room. The door was cracked, a sliver of soft light spilling out into the corridor.I took a breath, then another, trying to work up the courage to knock.I didn't know when it had gotten like this. When a conversation with my own son felt like walking into a war zone barefoot.But I knew I'd made it this way.And if there was one thing I still had control over, it was whether or not I left it broken.I raised my hand and tapped my knuckles against the door.No answer.I pushed it open.Eddie was sitting on the edge of his bed, knees pulled up to his chest, a hoodie slumped around his shoulders. His hair was messy, eyes puffy, like