All Chapters of DISARMED--- A BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE NOVEL: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

ISABELLE’S POVI never knew losing something could hurt this much. I thought it wouldn’t hurt me much, but I had hoped too much, and the incident hit me like a slap.My boutique. My dream. My heart poured into every corner of that little space—and now it was gone. Burned. Nothing left but blackened glass and smoke. That fire didn’t just take walls and shelves; it burned a part of me, too. I felt hollow in ways I hadn’t imagined, quieter, softer, smaller than I’d ever been. I didn’t want to speak. I didn’t want to fight. I just… existed, letting the world drift past me while I tried to figure out how to put myself back together.Adrian has been trying every day in ways I didn’t deserve. Ice cream, drives, small surprises, gentle touches—he’s been trying to pull me back from the edges, trying to remind me that life wasn’t over because of a fire. And yet, I stayed quiet. I nodded. I listened. I let him care, but I didn’t let myself feel it fully. I hated that about myself. I wanted to st

ISABELLE’S POVThe sunlight burned my eyes open, and I groaned internally as I turned my face to the other side of the bed, pulling the covers over my head. I was still naked beneath the sheets—after the intimate moment I’d shared with Adrian, we’d both fallen asleep bare.I shifted closer, reaching for the familiar hardness of his chest, but my hand met nothing but air. My eyes snapped open as I scanned the room, panic flaring—then easing—when I saw him standing near the closet, holding a birthday cake.Oh. My. Geez.He remembered my birthday.My heart fluttered as he walked toward me, the cake steady in his hands. He sat on the edge of the bed, eyes soft.“Happy birthday, my Isabelle,” he said quietly, holding the cake out to me. “Make a wish.”The butterflies in my stomach were overwhelming. My cheeks burned as I closed my eyes and wished for a happy life with Adrian. I wished that one day he’d say he loved me—because I already knew he did. His actions spoke louder than words ever

ISABELLE’S POV“Okay, Christine, make sure the loungewear is in soft cotton, not that rough blend from last season. And the blush pink should be slightly warmer this time—yes, just like we discussed,” I said, tapping my pen against the desk.“Understood, ma’am. I’ll have the samples ready by tomorrow,” Christine replied.“Perfect. Oh, and add two more sizes—medium petite and large tall. We can’t ignore the feedback we got last quarter. I want this line to feel inclusive, you understand?” I continued, scanning the notes on my tablet.“Of course, ma’am. I’ll make sure everything is ready.”“Good. That’s what I like to hear,” I said, smiling softly even though no one could see me. “Keep me updated every hour if you have to. I want this perfect.”I ended the call and immediately turned to the chef, checking the menu for dinner. “Listen, I want roasted chicken with herbs, but no butter. The vegetables are lightly steamed. And don’t forget Mother’s diet meal—she gets hers first, upstairs. M

ISABELLE’S POVI woke to the soft, golden light of the early morning seeping through the curtains, but the comfort it usually brought felt distant, replaced by a sudden, twisting nausea. My stomach fluttered violently, and I pressed a hand over it, blinking against the brightness.Adrian wasn’t beside me. My chest tightened, and my heart skipped.“Adrian?” I whispered, my voice catching. No answer.A metallic sense of dread twisted low in my belly. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, sitting upright, breath shallow. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of running water.The shower. Relief mingled with confusion. He’s awake. He’s… showering?I frowned, unease prickling at the edges of my mind. How could he have the energy to bathe? Yesterday, he had barely been able to keep his eyes open at the desk. Shouldn’t he still be exhausted?A wave of nausea hit again. My stomach clenched, the sharp taste of bile rising in my throat. I staggered toward the bathroom just in time, ret

ISABELLE’S POVI straightened slowly, lifting my head, even as a flutter of unease stirred in my stomach. I ignored it. I already knew why it was there.Adrian had his hands on her face.He held her the way he always held the woman he loved—firm, familiar, protective. As if he had known her all his life. As if I wasn’t standing right there.As if I didn’t exist.My chest tightened. One moment, I had been seated across from him, sharing space and life. The next, it felt like I had stepped out of someone else’s story, and she had stepped right into my place.His ex-wife. His late wife. She is… alive.I had thought she was dead. Buried. Gone forever. How could she just appear here? How could she take this space, this home, this man, and make me feel invisible in a single second?He didn’t glance at me once.He never looked my way.He only held her, focused on her, talked to her, wiped her tears, and brushed her cheeks with his thumb. And I… I wasn’t even in the picture.Then she turned t