All Chapters of The Billionaire’s Lost Heiress : Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

The wedding doesn’t end with a kiss.It ends with sirens, whispered apologies, half-drunk champagne glasses abandoned on white linen, and a silence so heavy it feels like grief.By sunset, the guests are gone.********By nightfall, the fairy lights are still glowing—nobody bothered to turn them off—but the magic is dead, hanging useless in the air like a lie no one believes anymore.We leave the venue through the back.No photographers. No music. No barefoot walk into forever,I was literally heartbroken, where is my happy ending.Just armored SUVs, radios crackling, and Alex’s hand locked around mine like he’s afraid the dark might steal me if he lets go.********The townhouse feels different when we get back.Not unsafe,Alex would never allow that—but altered. Like the walls are listening now. Like the shadows learned something new about us today.I sit on the edge of the bed, still in my dress, spine straight, hands folded too neatly in my lap.Alex kneels in front of me, carefull

One thing about danger is that it doesn’t always show up loud.Sometimes it slips into your life wearing normal clothes.Alex feels it even on his best days.**************His company is doing ridiculously well—new contracts rolling in, investors calling him “visionary” like it’s his government name now. Meetings blur into celebrations, congratulations stack up like unopened mail. On paper, his life is winning.But peace? Sigh Peace refuses to show up.Because every time his phone buzzes, his first thought isn’t money or work.It’s Clara. Always Clara.**********He keeps replaying that afternoon in his head—the way she smiled, joked, tried to keep things light while something darker hovered just out of reach. The way her laugh had come a beat too late. The way she’d gone still when she realized she was being watched.That wasn’t imagination.That was instinct.And Adrian trusts instincts more than spreadsheets.So he does what he always does when something doesn’t add up.*********

The next morning felt so long I couldn’t get enough rest.************Phones buzzing. Headlines updating. Alex’s security team already in the living room by the time Clara stumbles out of the bedroom in one of his shirts, hair looking so messed up, eyes swollen from crying and not enough sleep.She blinks at the sight. Is this… a meeting or did I miss the apocalypse?Alex looks up from his laptop, manages a tired smile. Little bit of both sweetheart.Detective Harris is there too, leaning against the counter with coffee like he lives here now.“Morning, Miss Langford,” he says.She groans,please tell me nobody died overnight sir.************“Not yet,” Harris replies. “Which in our line of work counts as a good morning. He smiled sipping his coffee.Alex pulls out a chair for her. “Come sit. We’re starting.”She hesitates. Then squares her shoulders and sits.This is it,no more hiding,no more pretending her past stayed buried.They spread everything out on the table.M

And Clara, was alive but trapped, she closes her eyes and clings to one thought.He will find me,he has to,pouring out uncontrollable tears.**********Days do not pass normally after someone you love vanishes,rather it stretches, and crawls slowly.They twist into something ugly and it definitely doesn’t care about clocks or calendars.*************For Alex, time stops making sense by day three.By week one, he cannot remember the last time he slept more than twenty minutes straight.By week three, the city becomes a map of ghosts,he couldn’t just function properly anymore,he barely goes to work and even when he does the jovial,handsome CEO was there.Every alley reminds him of her laugh.Every café window shows him a reflection that looks wrong without her standing beside him.He keeps her phone in his pocket.Just there,hoping someday she will return back to him.Like if he carries it long enough, it might start ringing.*************The detectives do not stop.The

The moment Harris hangs up, Alex does not sit down.He did not pace around,or curse.He just stands there in the middle of his apartment, phone still pressed to his ear, staring at the wall like something inside him finally snapped clean in half,someone the court protected.***********A man in a robe who signed papers and smiled for cameras and shook hands with grieving families.And that man is shielding the monster who stole Clara.For a long second, Alex feels something dangerous rise up in his throat. Something cold.************He exhales once, slow and steady, then walks to his bedroom and opens the locked drawer beneath his bed.Inside are things he promised himself he would never touch again.Cash in bundles,or a burner phone.***********A thin black folder filled with names, faces, and favors owed from a life he left behind when he decided to become respectable.When he opened the books,and he saw one name he hasn’t called in years. He dials the number.The