All Chapters of The Billionaire's undercover bride : Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

VIVIAN I didn’t leave the office immediately after speaking with Charlotte. Somehow, I couldn’t. My legs felt like lead, and my thoughts were a storm I couldn’t quiet. The hallways of the building, usually so familiar, now felt like corridors I didn’t recognize. Every step I took echoed too loudly in my mind, every passing shadow seemed like someone watching, judging, measuring me.I pressed my hand against my stomach instinctively. That small, fluttering life inside me had become my anchor. It reminded me that I couldn’t panic—not completely, not yet. There was too much at stake. Not just my own safety anymore, not just my carefully maintained secret, but the fragile, hidden reality that I carried inside me.“Breathe, Vivian,” I whispered, though my own voice sounded strange and distant to me. I tried to steady the tremble in my hands. I tried to make sense of the tension that had tightened my chest into a near cage.Charlotte’s words kept replaying in my head: “They’ve flagged a na

VIVIANI woke up with a strange heaviness in my chest.Not panic.Not exactly fear.Just… pressure.Like something was building.Slowly.Quietly.And I couldn’t stop it.For a moment, I lay still, staring at the ceiling, trying to remember where I was.Then it all came rushing back.The office.The investigation.The name.Damian.My hand moved to my stomach instinctively.That had become my anchor.The only thing that felt real in the middle of everything else.“I’m still here,” I whispered softly.But even that felt uncertain now.Because everything around me was shifting.And I didn’t know how long I could keep balancing it all.Beside me, Damian stirred.I turned slightly.He was still asleep.But even in sleep, his face wasn’t relaxed.There was tension there.Subtle.But visible.And it made my chest tighten.Because I knew—He wasn’t resting.Not really.His mind was still working.Still searching.Still getting closer.To me.I swallowed hard and carefully slipped out of bed,

DAMIANThe police station smelled of antiseptic and stale coffee, the kind of sterile odor that made the skin crawl. The harsh fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead, casting everything in sharp, unforgiving angles. Nothing here was soft, nothing here was forgiving.I sat in a chair that seemed far too small, far too fragile to hold the weight of my chest, the weight of my mind. Handcuffs had been removed, but the tension in my body remained. Every muscle coiled, ready to snap.Across the room, Charlotte leaned casually against the counter. Her posture was relaxed, but her eyes—cold, precise, calculating—never left me. Not once.I wanted to say something. To demand answers. To grab her by the collar and shake the truth out of her. But even as the thought surfaced, I knew it would accomplish nothing. She was always three steps ahead, always prepared. Always Charlotte.The silence was broken by the shuffle of footsteps.“Damian.”My mother. Her voice carried that mixture of fear and

VIVIANThe streets felt unfamiliar, though I had walked them countless times before. The morning sun cast shadows that seemed sharper today, edges cutting into my skin. Each step I took on the cracked pavement echoed louder than usual, like the world itself was mocking me.I carried my bag close to my chest, my fingers gripping the strap until my knuckles whitened. Every nerve in my body screamed exhaustion, but the heaviness wasn’t physical—it was deeper, lodged in my chest and stomach and throat. My breaths came shallow, quick, uneven, as if the air itself had been poisoned with grief and fear.I had no destination in mind. Home? No. That house, that life, was no longer mine. Damian’s presence, the weight of his mother’s fury, and the silent, accusing eyes that had followed me out of the house left me trembling. Everywhere I looked, I saw judgment, disappointment, anger. I couldn’t breathe in the air of a place that had once been a sanctuary.My feet led me, almost unconsciously, to

VIVIANThe courthouse smelled of cold metal and polished wood, a mixture of official sterility and tension that made my stomach churn. I walked behind the rows of people, each step heavier than the last, my heels clicking against the hard floor like a metronome of dread. The air seemed thicker here, filled with whispered rumors, hushed voices, and the low murmur of lawyers moving papers back and forth.I gripped the strap of my bag tighter, feeling the life growing inside me, a fragile rhythm that grounded me amidst the chaos. Every beat of my heart was echoed by the soft thump of the child’s pulse within me, a reminder that I had to remain strong, even as my world threatened to crumble.Damian sat at the defendant’s table, his suit crisp, his posture rigid, but the tension radiating off him was palpable. The lines around his eyes were sharper than ever, etched deep by stress, worry, and anger. I could see the weight of the entire storm pressing down on him, and it made my chest tight