All Chapters of Billionaire’s Pretend Wife To Be: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

The demand for truth had been met. I had given Elara the agonizing confession she needed, stripping away the corporate armor and exposing the raw, ugly nature of my betrayal. I thought the new rules—distance, silence, no more acts of service—would make the situation survivable. I was wrong. The silence was worse. The distance was a constant, sharp torture.A week passed. I sat in her shop every morning, drank my simple black coffee, and watched her, a ghost at the edge of her sunny world. But the pretense of "Alex Rossi" was killing me. Every time Amelia's voice chirped from the back room, every time he ran into the main area and I had to turn my face away, it felt like an acid bath of self-hatred. I was denying my son’s existence to his face, and I couldn't live with that lie anymore. The foundation of trust we needed to build couldn't start with me pretending I didn't recognize my own blood.I waited until Saturday afternoon. Starhaven Point was quiet, and the sun was setting, casti

The memory of Alessandro kneeling in the sand, talking about dragon bones, was a relentless loop in my mind. It was a beautiful, devastating image that refused to be categorized as a threat. But the fear remained, a cold, hard stone in my gut. I knew I couldn't move forward, couldn't allow another supervised hour, until the deepest wound between us—Leo’s death—was addressed not as a business failure, but as a shared loss.I waited until nine o’clock that evening. Amelia was asleep upstairs, breathing steadily, safe in the fortress. I pulled on a heavy sweater and walked downstairs. I didn't need to check the alley. I knew he would be there.He wasn't sitting on a bucket tonight. He was standing, leaning against the cold brick wall of the shop, just a silhouette waiting for his sentence. He didn’t pretend to be surprised when I approached.“You’re breaking the rule,” I stated, my voice low and weary. “No more presence after dark, unless I call you.”“I apologize, Elara,” he replied, hi

The decision to offer Alessandro another supervised visit felt like placing a tiny, flammable wick next to an open flame. Mia’s words, though logical, had only added weight to the scale: He’s fighting for the chance to be human.I chose the place deliberately: the edge of the abandoned wharf, a skeletal structure jutting into the black water where the waves broke loudest. It was cold, noisy, and absolutely isolated. No witnesses, no immediate escape, just us and the crushing truth of our shared history.I waited until almost ten. He arrived on time, dressed simply, his shadow tall and distorted by the single, dim light at the end of the wharf.“Thank you for meeting me, Elara,” he said, using my real name now that the pretense was dead between us. His voice was low and serious.“I won’t make this easy for you, Alessandro,” I warned, my voice flat, holding firm to the cold exterior. “The purpose of this meeting is to set the terms for the second supervised visit. Not for discussion of

I watched the house key where Alessandro had left it on the cold stone step. It was still there, sitting exactly where he had placed it at ten o’clock last night, shimmering faintly in the dim morning light. It represented his entire life, the sacrifice of his identity, the complete surrender of the man I used to fear.The choice was simple: take the key, and risk everything for a tentative future with the man who was now just ‘Alex,’ or leave it, and guarantee Amelia’s safety and my permanent peace.I couldn’t take it. The wound was still too fresh, the kiss too violating, the memory of Leo too raw. But I couldn't leave it either. If I left it, the man who knew my heart, the father of my son, would vanish forever, taking with him the only real chance Amelia had at knowing his lineage, however quietly.I had to find a third path. I needed a truth so deep, so painful, that if he gave it to me, I would know the monster was truly dead, not just hiding.I pulled out my phone and sent a on

The last few days had felt less like reality and more like a fragile, beautiful dream. Alessandro kept his word with a chilling, absolute adherence that both reassured and unnerved me. He had canceled all his private accounts, changed his phone number, and spent his days in the small, rented shack, reading dusty old paperbacks he’d found in the local bookstore. The only time he left was to walk to the shop for coffee, or to meet Amelia and me for our scheduled, short visits.The formality of the ‘supervised hour’ had evaporated since that night on the pier. Now, he was simply ‘Alex,’ a friend who was helping Amelia build the world’s most indestructible sandcastle on the public beach.I sat a short distance away on a driftwood log, watching them. The scene was utterly ordinary, yet it was the most extraordinary sight I had ever witnessed. Alessandro, the man who once controlled a network of global infrastructure, was now carefully mixing wet sand and pebbles, his large hands surprising