All Chapters of Married To The Arrogant Billionaire Heir: Chapter 91 - Chapter 95

Sebastian’s POV.The silence in the hospital room was heavy, broken only by the rhythmic beeping of the monitor. I sat in the hard plastic chair next to the bed, my hand engulfing Grace’s uninjured one.She had been drifting in and out of consciousness for hours, but now, her eyes were open. They were glassy with pain medication, but the fear in them was sharp and lucid."Sebastian," she croaked, her throat dry from the dust."I’m here," I said immediately, leaning forward to bring a cup of water to her lips. "Drink slowly. You’re safe."She took a sip, then pulled back, her eyes searching the room frantically. "Is... is anyone else here?""Just my security detail outside the door," I assured her. "No one gets in without my permission. So tell me what happened? I didn't ask you before because you needed rest.”She let out a shaky breath, her fingers tightening around mine with a desperate strength. "It wasn't an accident, Sebastian."My eyes narrowed. "I know. Hydraulics don't fail li

Sebastian’s POV.The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of the master suite, casting long, pale ribbons of light across the bed. For the first time in my life, the dawn didn't feel like a summons to war. It felt like a reprieve.Grace was draped across me, her head resting on my chest, her breathing deep and rhythmic. My arm was tucked beneath her, my hand resting protectively over the cast on her arm. I didn't want to move. I didn't want to break the spell.After the raw, desperate intensity of the bathroom last night—after we had finally stripped away the silence and the lies—this was the part I hadn't expected. The softness. The quiet way she sought out my heat in her sleep, her fingers curled into the fabric of my t-shirt.I ran my thumb slowly along the line of her shoulder, savoring the silkiness of her skin. The cold war between us had left us both gaunt, but holding her now, I felt a strange, terrifying sense of completion. I had spent my life building walls, but

Grace’s POV.The elevator doors had closed minutes ago, but the scent of Ryan’s funeral lilies still lingered in the air, pungent and suffocating.Sebastian was still holding me, his heart hammering against my back. The performance was over, but he hadn't let go. If anything, his grip had tightened.Sebastian didn't stop as he carried me into the bedroom. He carried me down the hallway, his jaw set in a line of granite, the muscles in his arms bunched tight. I could feel the thudding of his heart against my ribs—a frantic, heavy rhythm that betrayed just how much restraint he had used in that living room.He kicked the master bedroom door shut behind us and locked it. The sound of the deadbolt sliding home echoed like a gunshot, signaling the end of the performance.He didn't take me to the bed immediately. He stood there in the center of the room, holding me, his breathing rough and uneven."I’m okay," I whispered, reaching up to touch the tense cord of muscle in his neck. My hand tr