บททั้งหมดของ The Billionaire's Insignificant Wife : บทที่ 91 - บทที่ 100

The basement of the Blackwood mansion was a place Alina had only seen once, years ago, during a house tour when she'd first moved in.Cold. Dim. Utilitarian.Storage rooms lined one side. Mechanical systems hummed behind closed doors. The laundry occupied the far end, always running, always staffed.But there was a section in between. Older. Unused.Rooms that had been servants' quarters a generation ago, before Margaret had modernized the staff arrangements and moved everyone to the renovated wing on the second floor.The guards dragged Alina down the concrete stairs.She didn't fight. What would be the point?They were twice her size. Trained. Following Margaret's orders.And even if she escaped them, where would she go? The house was locked down. Guards at every exit. Clarissa in the west wing with Junior. Margaret already alerting Daniel.The trap had closed perfectly.Down the corridor. Past the storage rooms filled with furniture covered in sheets. Past the mechanical room where

Alina made it to the bathroom before the scream tore out of her.Raw. Animal. The sound of something dying.She collapsed against the tile floor, hands pressed over her mouth, trying to contain the violence of her grief.No one important.Five years of midnight fevers and bad dreams. Five years of first words and first steps. Five years of "Mama, look!" and "Mama, stay!" and "Mama, I love you."Reduced to "no one important."The sobs came in waves. Brutal. Uncontrollable.Her body shook with them until she couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything except feel the agony of being erased.She'd known it was coming. Had watched it happen piece by piece. Junior's confusion. His discomfort. His gradual acceptance of Clarissa as the only mother he'd ever known.But hearing it—hearing him ask about her like she was a stranger, hearing Clarissa dismiss her so casually—It was different than knowing.It was final.Alina pressed her forehead to the cold tile and let herself shatter

Morning light filtered through Margaret's sitting room windows as Mr. Harris delivered his report."Nothing unusual, Ma'am." He stood at attention, hands clasped behind his back. "Mrs. Alina Blackwood remains in her room most of the day. The signal jammer is functioning perfectly—no outgoing calls, no messages. Staff interactions are minimal and monitored."Margaret sat in her chair, fingers steepled, eyes calculating."Something feels off.""Sorry, Ma'am?""Something feels wrong." She stood, moved to the window. "People don't surrender this completely without planning something. I want cameras installed in her room."Mr. Harris's expression flickered. "Ma'am, that would require Mr. Daniel's authorization. Privacy laws—""I don't care about privacy laws." Margaret turned to face him. "This is my son’s house. My family. And I will protect it by any means necessary.""Mr. Daniel specifically instructed that Mrs. Alina be treated with appropriate dignity—""Daniel is blind to threats und

Emma's hands trembled slightly as she dialed a number she hadn't called in weeks. The phone rang three times before Richard Hayes answered."Emma? It's late. Is everything alright?"Richard's voice carried the gentle concern of a father who had learned to expect bad news about his daughter but never stopped hoping for good."Uncle, there's something I need to talk to you about. About Alina."A pause. Then Richard's voice, suddenly alert. "What is it? Is Alina alright? We haven't heard from her in over a month. Every time I call, they say she's unavailable. Resting. Busy. Always an excuse."Emma closed her eyes. "That's why I'm calling. Uncle, I have to be honest with you. Alina is not alright."The silence on the other end was heavy."Tell me everything," Richard said quietly.Emma did. She told him everything she'd heard from Mrs. Helen through their exchanged messages. Junior's accident. The amnesia that made him forget Alina. The systematic isolation. The basement incident. Margare

Mr. Harris entered Margaret's private sitting room with the journal concealed inside his jacket.Margaret looked up from her desk. "You have it?""Yes, Ma'am." He pulled out the leather-bound book. Set it on the desk between them.Margaret's fingers reached for it immediately. Possessive. Hungry."Good work. Was there any difficulty?""No, Ma'am. She was at breakfast. The room was empty. I relocked the drawer. She won't know it's missing until she looks for it.""Excellent." Margaret opened the journal, began flipping through pages. Her eyes scanning the handwriting with predatory focus."Mr. Harris?"Margaret didn't look up."Yes, Ma'am?""No one knows about this. Not Daniel. Not the other staff. No one. If I find out you've discussed this with anyone, your employment ends immediately. Understood?""Understood, Ma'am.""You're dismissed."Mr. Harris left quickly. Grateful to escape.Behind him, Margaret called one of the junior maids."Yes, Mrs. Blackwood?""I need you to keep Mrs. A