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Todos os capítulos de His Doctor Bride: Capítulo 81 - Capítulo 90

236 Capítulos

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Chapter Eighty OneJohn stared at his phone for a long moment before calling.The last few days had been enough. Enough pretending. Enough sitting in one place while money waited elsewhere. He loved his wife, he loved his child, but love had never paid bills. Love had never built anything lasting for him.Clara had money. Clara had access. Clara had weakness.That was where he always returned.He had already seen the posts. Clara everywhere on social media, standing beside the black Tesla like it was proof of victory. Smiling. Showing off designer bags. Caption after caption filled with praise from strangers. He watched every video without liking any. He never liked her posts. He never needed to. She always knew he was watching.John finished buttoning his shirt and walked into the living room.Magdalene stood near the window, gently rocking Betty in her arms. Betty was two now, not really a baby anymore, but still small enough to fit perfectly against her mother's chest. Her little f

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Chapter Eighty-TwoTwo weeks Later Same space. Same routine.She moved slowly, careful with every step, like her body no longer trusted her. The sickness had started days ago. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just sudden waves that came without warning. She would bend over the sink, throw up quietly, rinse her mouth, and pretend nothing happened.Some days she felt dizzy for no reason. Other days, sleep did nothing for her. She would wake up tired, her bones aching like she had run all night without moving an inch.She told herself it was stress.The house was not peaceful anymore. Damien was unstable. Richard watched everything closely. The servants whispered when they thought she couldn’t hear. Anyone would feel sick in a place like this.That was what she kept telling herself.Aria stood by the counter, arranging Damien’s drugs the way she always did. She read the labels twice, measured carefully, her fingers steady even when her stomach rolled again.She swallowed hard.“Get it together,”

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Chapter Eighty-ThreeThe doctor stood at the foot of the bed, clipboard in hand, speaking in that calm, practiced way doctors do when they’ve said the same thing a hundred times.“You’re stable now,” he said. “No complications on the scans or the bloodwork. We can discharge you today.”Aria sat propped up against the pillows, hands resting loose in her lap. Her head still carried that dull ache, but the spinning had stopped. She kept her eyes on the doctor’s face, trying to take in every word.“Go home and rest,” he went on. “Really rest. No heavy lifting, no running around the house. Avoid stress however you can. Eat small meals often—even if your stomach says no. Drink water. Come back right away if you get any bleeding, bad cramping, or if the dizziness comes back stronger.”Richard stood beside the bed, arms crossed, nodding at each point like he was memorizing a list.“She’ll do exactly that,” he said. “I’ll see to it personally.”The doctor turned to Aria. “Do you understand all

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Chapter Eighty Four “I know, Aria,” Richard said quietly. “I know this isn’t easy. But please… for the family. For my sake. I’m not trying to pressure you. I’m not trying to manipulate you.”They were sitting in the small sitting room near the back of the house. The curtains were open. Afternoon light came in freely. Aria sat on the edge of the couch, her hands locked together, her shoulders drawn in. She looked smaller than usual, like she was trying to take up less space.“For your sake,” she repeated, her voice low. “Everyone keeps saying that. Your sake. The family’s sake. No one is asking if I’m okay.”Richard sighed. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked older like this. Less powerful. Less like the man everyone feared.“I am asking,” he said. “That’s why I’m here with you now.”Aria shook her head slowly. “I don’t recognize my life anymore. I wake up and I feel like I’m living inside someone else’s story. I don’t know how I got here. I don’t know what I

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Chapter Eighty FiveThe next day came with no warning.Richard didn’t come down for breakfast. He sent for Damien instead.When Damien walked into the study, his father was already seated, jacket still on, one hand resting on the arm of the chair like he was conserving strength.“I’m not well today,” Richard said without greeting him. “You’ll handle the French ambassador.”Damien stopped mid-step. “Handle him how?”“In the executive suite,” Richard replied. “The one reserved for high-level negotiations.”Damien laughed once, dry and short. “I don’t even know what this is about.”“That’s exactly the problem,” Richard said.Damien rubbed his face. “Do I have to? Can’t Victor handle it? Or one of the directors? This is not my thing.”Richard looked up at him then, slow and deliberate. “That’s pathetic, Damien.”Damien stiffened.“A grown twenty-eight-year-old man,” Richard continued calmly, “still hiding behind excuses when responsibility knocks. This company doesn’t run on moods. It ru

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Chapter Eighty SixThe double doors swung open, and Aria’s stomach dropped like someone had punched her.Damien came through first carried between two security guys, his arms hanging loose, head tilted sideways like it was too heavy to hold up anymore. His eyes were shut. Lips parted just enough to show he wasn’t breathing right. He looked empty. Not asleep. Just… gone from himself.Richard stepped in right behind them.No questions. No hurry. No sharp intake of breath.He gave one single nod like this was paperwork he’d already signed off on years ago.Then he kept walking.Didn’t turn his head. Didn’t pause. Didn’t even look down at the son being half-dragged, half-carried past him. He moved straight through the room like Damien was already a memory he’d learned to live with. Like he’d rehearsed this exact second in his head so many times that when it finally showed up, it didn’t surprise him.That one cold nod cut Aria deeper than the sight of Damien’s limp body ever could.They go

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Chapter Eighty SevenDamien woke up with a sharp ache sitting behind his eyes.It took him a few seconds to understand where he was. The ceiling above him looked familiar, but his body felt wrong and heavy, drained, like someone had taken something out of him and not put it back properly. His throat was dry. His head throbbed.Then memories came in pieces.The suite. The ambassador’s voice. Laughter. And Clara.Her face. Sitting too close to another man. Smiling. Talking. Enjoying herself.That image stayed.Everything after that was blank.He shifted, trying to sit up, and felt warmth against his chest. An arm. A body too close. He looked down sharply.Aria.She was half-curled against him, her head resting near his shoulder, one hand on his chest like she’d been counting his breaths. Her hair was loose, her face bare, eyes closed. She looked exhausted, not peaceful. Like someone who hadn’t slept properly.His confusion turned into anger fast.“Why am I home?” he asked harshly,

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Chapter Eighty-Eight“C’mon, Damien,” Clara said softly, leaning back in her chair, legs crossed like she had nothing to hide. “I was there for a business deal. Do you really think I’d go out with some other men, baby?”They were seated across from each other in a quiet restaurant. Expensive. Private. The kind Damien always chose when he wanted to talk without ears around. Soft music played somewhere in the background, barely noticed.Damien sighed, running a hand through his hair.“I know,” he said. “I know it sounds stupid. I just… I don’t like seeing you with anyone else. I can’t handle it.”Clara smiled, slow and sweet, exactly the smile that always worked on him.“That’s because you care,” she said. “And I like that.”She leaned forward slightly. “Give me a hug.”Damien didn’t hesitate. He stood up and pulled her into his arms. She pressed herself close, resting her cheek against his chest like she belonged there. Her fingers slid up his back, slow, comforting.“I hate how everyt

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Chapter Eighty Nine Aria stood by her father’s hospital bed, smoothing the blanket down one more time. It was a small thing, but right now it felt like the only thing she could fix. “I left enough cash with the nurse,” she told him quietly. “For the meds, meals, whatever comes up. If it runs low, call me right away, okay?” Her dad gave her that tired half-smile he’d been using lately. “You worry too much, kid.” She tried to smile back. It stayed on her mouth but didn’t touch her eyes. “I’ll be away for a bit.” “Honeymoon, you said.” He sounded almost proud. “Yeah.” She answered too fast. “Short one. Greece.” His face lit up a little. “You deserve some good days, Aria. After all this.” She nodded, bent down, pressed a quick kiss to his forehead, then straightened before the tears could show. Her throat closed up anyway. She couldn’t risk another word. Outside in the corridor she stopped, pulled in a long breath, and told herself she still had three hours. Three hours

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---Chapter NinetyThe private jet touched down smoothly, the wheels rolling against the runway with a muted screech. No cheers. No excitement. Just the soft hum of the engines winding down, the click of seatbelts releasing.Aria remained in her seat, hands tightly clutching her bag. She didn’t speak. She barely breathed. Her stomach fluttered nervously, a small life growing inside her making her suddenly aware of every motion, every sound. She was leaving Canada for the first time, and the world she thought she knew had already turned upside down.Clara stood first. She looked as though she had always belonged on this jet, on this trip, in this life. Her dress was light, flowing just enough to look effortless. Her hair tumbled loosely around her shoulders. Makeup highlighted her features without trying too hard. She stretched like someone arriving for a vacation she’d been planning for months. Then she leaned slightly toward Damien.“We’re finally here,” she said softly, her voice wa

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