บททั้งหมดของ Falling for the Disgraced Heir: บทที่ 141 - บทที่ 150

The bed feels too large for two people who refuse to move closer.Julia lies on her side, facing the window, the city’s glow bleeding through the curtains in pale strips of light. Brandon is behind her, close enough that she can feel the heat of him through the thin barrier of sheets and distance, but not touching. Not really. The space between them hums with everything they are not saying.Stress has a way of turning silence into something sharp.She shifts slightly, the mattress dipping. His breath stutters, just once, like he noticed. They are acutely aware of each other—every movement, every pause—yet frozen in restraint, as if crossing the line would break something fragile they’re trying desperately to protect.“You awake?” Brand

Julia watches the interview alone.The apartment is dim, curtains half-drawn against a gray afternoon, the television casting a cool glow across the room. Vanessa sits perfectly framed on-screen—soft lighting, neutral makeup, hands folded like restraint itself. Her voice is calm, almost wounded, and it makes Julia’s stomach tighten.“I’ve been misunderstood,” Vanessa says gently. “When you work closely with powerful people, assumptions follow.”Julia doesn’t blink. She leans forward, elbows on her knees, fingers threaded so tightly they ache. The first three minutes are exactly what she expected—measured humility, careful omissions, a practiced sadness that invites rescue.“And the rumors?” the interviewer

The document arrives just after dawn, slipped beneath the penthouse door like a quiet threat.Julia sees it first—thick cream paper, embossed seal, the weight of authority pressing through the envelope. She doesn’t open it immediately. She stands there barefoot on cold marble, coffee untouched in her hand, heart already racing as if it knows.When Brandon comes out of the bedroom, tie half-knotted, phone pressed to his ear, he stops mid-step.“What is it?” he asks.She hands it to him without a word.He doesn’t sit. He doesn’t breathe. He reads standing, shoulders squaring with every line, jaw tightening until the muscle jumps. The silence stretches, sharp and brittle.

The envelope is heavier than it should be.Brandon feels it the moment his assistant places it on his desk, the thick cream paper stamped with legal insignia he knows too well. No preamble. No courtesy call. Just the weight of intent, pressed flat and merciless.He doesn’t open it right away. He stares at the skyline beyond the glass wall, jaw locked, pulse slow and dangerous. When he finally breaks the seal, the words don’t surprise him—only the speed does.Filed for annulment under corporate risk statutes. Immediate injunction. Joint assets frozen. Public appearances suspended until further review.“Christ,” he breathes.This isn’t about legality. It’s leverage. The board isn’

Arthur doesn’t look relieved when he sees Julia. He looks careful.They meet in a quiet private room off a legal café downtown, the kind of place designed to look neutral and fail at it. Glass walls, muted light, the hum of other people’s problems leaking through. Julia sits across from him with her coat still on, spine straight, expression composed enough to be mistaken for calm.“This isn’t about leaving Brandon,” she says before he can speak. “If that’s what you think, say it now so I can walk out.”Arthur studies her for a long moment. “Then don’t walk out.”He slides a folder across the table, not opening it. Not yet. “This is about fallout. Containment. Damage that’s already in mot