Todos los capítulos de Billionaire’s Pretend Wife To Be: Capítulo 71 - Capítulo 80

The once immaculate, art-filled office in the Conti Manor had been transformed into a stark, chaotic war room. My expensive suits hung untouched in the closet. I wore the same simple, wrinkled shirt for the third day, fueled only by bitter, lukewarm coffee and the acid churning in my stomach. The expansive, dark wood desk was now covered by printouts—aerial maps of the entire tri-state region, enlarged photographs of bus terminals and train station security feeds, and grids filled with names of shelters and charity organizations.I was the wealthiest man in the room, capable of moving billions with a single command, yet I was utterly powerless. My vast resources were failing, beaten by one woman’s simple, desperate need to disappear.Marcus, my Head of Security and now my personal search coordinator, entered the room exactly at 6:00 AM, the time I had mandated for the daily status report. He looked physically drained, his own exhaustion mirroring mine. He carried a binder labeled simp

Two more weeks of relentless, high-cost searching had passed, yielding nothing but dry holes and mounting frustration. My personal command center was a wreck, paper files scattered everywhere, the scent of stale coffee and desperation hanging in the air. The Conti Empire was technically running itself, but I was living on the fumes of my regret.Then, at 3:00 AM, the break finally came, not through sophisticated tech, but through human persistence. One of Marcus’s young analysts had cross-referenced the few cash withdrawal times with known security blind spots near the city’s low-income housing. He found a single, fleeting ATM transaction linked to Elara’s old bank card—a card she should have abandoned—made near a modest apartment building in a neighborhood far from the Manor. The address was registered to Mia Chen, Elara’s childhood friend.I didn't wait for Marcus. I called him and ordered him to meet me there with a tactical team, but I drove myself. I needed to see this place, thi

The silence in the small, sterile room where Marcus finally located Mia Chen was heavier than the thick glass table separating her from me. We hadn't cornered Mia; we had simply made it clear to her employer—a small, independent accounting firm that relied heavily on Conti subsidiary contracts—that a private meeting was essential. Mia had walked in defiant, her eyes blazing with protective fury.I dismissed Marcus. I needed this conversation to be brutally honest, stripped of guards and corporate formalities. It was just me, the man who ruined her friend, and her, the shield.“Mia,” I began, my voice rough from disuse and the endless grinding of guilt. “I know why you are here. I know why Elara disappeared. I know the truth about Victoria and Lucas. I cleared Elara’s name. Victoria is ruined. Lucas is gone.”Mia crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back in her chair. She didn’t show an inch of relief or surprise. Her expression was pure, concentrated contempt.“And you think that

The small, rented room above the Starhaven Point General Store was Elara’s sanctuary. The window, perpetually clouded by the damp sea air, offered a view of crashing waves and weather-beaten fishing trawlers. The floorboards creaked with every step, the heater struggled against the constant cold, and the simple furniture was chipped and worn. It was the antithesis of the Conti Manor, and therefore, it felt like home.It had been several weeks since she and Mia had made the final, clean break from the city. Mia had come for a final, intense week to ensure Elara was set up before returning to her normal life to avoid drawing suspicion.Elara, now going by the name ‘Ella,’ sat at the small, rickety table, carefully patching a large tear in her thick, flour-dusted work apron. She was nearly five months pregnant, and though she wore loose layers, the distinct curve of her stomach was evident when she moved or sat a certain way.Mia sat on the narrow bed, her brow furrowed as she looked thr

The smell of freshly roasted coffee beans and warm cinnamon was the defining scent of my life now. It was the scent of success, of hard work, and most importantly, of independence. The bakery job with Mrs. Peterson had been the start, but six months ago, I had managed to lease and open my own tiny coffee shop in Starhaven Point, calling it "The Starhaven Brew." I was 'Ella Vance,' a quiet, fiercely private woman who knew how to pull a perfect espresso shot.It was 8:30 AM, the peak of the local morning rush, and I was juggling three orders at once.“Ella! Need more foam for the Mayor’s double latte!” shouted Jenny, my only employee, a bright, slightly chaotic local girl.“Coming up, Jen!” I called back, expertly spinning the steaming wand.A small, energetic blur shot out from behind the counter, narrowly missing a basket of scones.“Mama! Look! Car go!”Two-year-old Amelia, my beautiful, complicated son, stood proudly holding a plastic toy car. He was wearing overalls and a brightly