บททั้งหมดของ Too Late To Love Me, Mr Billionaire : บทที่ 191 - บทที่ 200

Kira’s POV “She’s turning,” Elijah said from the passenger seat. Kira watched the silver car’s indicator come on and the brake lights flare and she said to the security driver, “Stay with her, not too close, but don’t loose her,” and he nodded and moved into the left lane. Her phone was in her hand, Adrian still on the line. “She’s taken a turn off the main road, heading toward the waterfront I think.” “The detective is seven minutes out,” Adrian said. “Don’t approach her alone.” “I’m not alone, plus why are they taking so much time, we’ve informed them ever since.” “Kira.” “I have security with me, Adrian, I’m fine.” She watched the silver car ahead take the curve at the bottom of the turning and she watched the speed of it and sat forward. “She’s going too fast.” “Tell the driver to slow down.” “She’s going too fast, Adri

Marcus’s POVThe library was the quietest room in the estate.Marcus had known this since he was eleven years old and had spent a significant portion of his childhood in it for exactly that reason, and he was sitting in the chair by the window with the Torres report closed on the side table beside him when he heard the front door and Kira’s footsteps in the hallway and then the library door opening.She came in and stopped when she saw him and we both looked at each other and neither of them said anything for a moment.Her dress had grass stains on the hem.Her forearm had a cut on it, dried now, not deep, running along the inside from the wrist toward the elbow, and she’d either not noticed it or had noticed it and decided it wasn’t the most important thing happening tonight.“Sophia,” he said.“She didn’t make it, Marcus, she ran through the bridge.”He looked at the window.Outside the estate grounds were dark and still, the security lights doing their slow sweep across the east ga

Kira’s POVThe detective, Detective Osei, came to the estate at ten.He was younger than Kira expected, mid-thirties maybe, a grey suit and a quiet face and so much stillness like someone who had learned to take up less room in other people’s spaces while he was in them.He shook hands with Richard and Marcus and nodded at Kira and sat at the dining room table and opened his laptop and they gave him everything, the Torres report, the transfer documentation, the account access logs, the facial recognition match, the crash report from the night before, all of it in a single folder that Alyssa had compiled and printed and organized by timestamp.He went through it without rushing.Marcus sat across from him and answered questions and Richard sat at the head of the table and Kira sat to Osei’s left and watched him read and thought about the phone in her bag.She hadn’t told anyone she still had it.Not Elijah, not Adrian, not Alyssa. She’d taken it from the crash site and it had been in h

Kira’s POVShe woke up at six forty-three and lay there staring at the ceiling and realized she couldn’t remember waking up in the night.Not once.She’d gone to bed at eleven, read for twenty minutes, put the book down, closed her eyes, and the next thing was six forty-three and the birds outside and the early light coming under the curtains and her body completely rested in the way it hadn’t been for so long she’d forgotten what it felt like.She lay there for a moment and took stock of it.No tightness in her chest. No list running before she was fully conscious. No low-grade dread sitting at the base of her stomach the way it used to sit, reliably, every morning for the better part of months.She got up and showered and went downstairs.Elena was in the kitchen on the phone, glasses on, notepad open, writing something down and nodding, and she held up one finger at Kira and kept talking and Kira poured coffee and sat at the table and looked at the estate grounds through the window

Kira’s POVThey were on the second course when Natasha put her fork down and said, “You spoke to your mother, didn’t you.”“After the opening the other day, yes.”“What did she tell you.”Kira set her own fork down and looked at Natasha across the table and thought about the phone call, about standing in the Ember kitchen the week after the opening with flour on her apron asking her mother why a woman she hadn’t seen in twenty years had walked into her restaurant with that much rage, and her mother going quiet in the way Elena went quiet when something was going to cost her to say.“She told me everything,” Kira said. “Or everything she knew.”Natasha looked at her and didn’t speak.“Your father,” Kira said, and kept her voice level and her eyes on Natasha’s face. “He had a relationship with one of our household staff. A girl named Amara. She was nineteen at the time.”Natasha’s hand moved to the edge of the table.“It wasn’t consensual at all,” Kira said. “She was nineteen and she wo