THE PRICE OF A BILLIONAIRE’S LOVE のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 41 - チャプター 50

Aria woke first.The room was dim, lit only by the soft blinking of medical monitors and the faint glow slipping under the door from the guarded hallway. She was still in Damon’s arms… his body warm against hers, his breathing slow and even.For a moment, she let herself stay there.Protected.Wanted.Loved.But the world didn’t allow peace for long.A soft beep came from Damon’s bedside device—not medical, but digital. A secured alert only used by his private security network.Aria lifted her head, instantly alert.A second beep followed—sharper this time.Damon stirred, pain flickering across his face as he opened his eyes.“Aria… what’s wrong?”“That,” she whispered, pointing at the blinking device.His gaze sharpened immediately.“That’s not hospital tech.”He tapped the screen. A series of encrypted messages appeared—blurry at first, then slowly decrypting.Aria felt a chill crawl up her spine.UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS ATTEMPT — HOME SECURITY SYSTEMLOCATION: DAMON’S RESIDENCETIME: 0

Aria sat numbly in the chair, her fingers twisting the hem of her sleeve. She felt cold everywhere. Too cold. Like the truth itself had reached inside her chest and squeezed her heart.Damon watched her, his expression tight with worry—no, fear. But not fear for himself.Fear for her.Ethan paced the room, checking the tablet every few seconds.“Download at ninety percent. We’re running out of time.”Aria swallowed, her voice barely audible.“Damon… I need you to tell me the truth now. All of it. No holding back.”Damon hesitated for only a heartbeat, then nodded.He tried to sit up straighter, grimacing from the pain. Aria moved instinctively to help him, steadying his back against the pillow. Even in her shock, her body remembered him.Once he was settled, Damon took her hand.“Aria,” he began softly, “your sealed files include information about your father’s involvement in a federal corruption case twenty years ago. That part we know.”Aria nodded shakily.“But what we didn’t know—

Two hours. One hundred and twenty minutes. That was all the time they had before Damon’s father expected them at the coordinates—his childhood home, the place Damon had avoided for nearly two decades. The room buzzed with tension as Ethan spread out maps, surveillance feeds, and encrypted digital files across the table. The guards outside were doubled. No one spoke unless necessary. No one made unnecessary movements. Aria stood at the far end of the room, staring at the exact address glowing on Ethan’s screen. That house. The one Damon never talked about without tightening his jaw. The one he left but never escaped. Damon approached her from behind, slipping his arms around her waist, pulling her gently against him. “You’re shaking,” he whispered. She exhaled shakily. “Not from fear… from anger.” Damon turned her toward him. His fingers brushed her cheek, his voice low but steady. “You don’t need to be angry for me.” “I’m angry for us,” Aria corrected. “Your

Damon didn’t sit. Aria didn’t, either. Only Alexander remained composed, standing before the open folder like a judge preparing to deliver a sentence. “You said someone connected to Damon’s brother,” Aria repeated, her voice trembling despite her effort to sound calm. “Explain.” Alexander clasped his hands behind his back. “I warned Damon years ago that the past has teeth,” he said smoothly. “And now… one of those teeth has come for you.” Damon stepped forward, fury simmering beneath his skin. “Stop speaking in riddles. Say the name.” Alexander tilted his head slightly. “Adrian.” The room froze. Aria’s stomach twisted violently. “Adrian?” she whispered. “What does he have to do with my father?” Alexander tapped the folder once. “Everything.” Damon shook his head in disbelief. “No. Adrian came into my life long after—” “No,” Alexander cut in sharply. “He came into your knowledge long after. But he has been circling our family for much longer than you know.” Damon felt

Damon’s accusation hung in the air like a bullet suspended mid-flight. No one moved. No one breathed. Alexander Reed stood at the center of the room, expression cold and steady—yet his eyes flickered, just briefly. And that flicker told Aria everything she needed to know: Damon was right. “Me?” Alexander repeated calmly. “You think I ordered the attack on your brother? On her father?” Damon stepped forward, jaw clenched, voice shaking with rage that had simmered for years. “You didn’t just order it,” Damon growled. “You orchestrated it.” Ethan shifted uneasily, his hand hovering near his weapon. Adrian didn’t move, but his shoulders stiffened. Aria pressed closer to Damon, her heart pounding in her throat. Alexander finally exhaled and walked toward the bar. He poured himself a drink—slowly, deliberately—and took a sip before answering. “You’re emotional,” he said. “You’re not thinking.” Damon’s voice deepened, dangerous as a drawn blade. “No. I’m finally thinking clear