All Chapters of The billionaire who never wanted a bride : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

The night had settled over Manhattan like a velvet curtain, hiding everything beneath shadows, yet revealing every flicker of tension in the penthouse. Isabella sat on the edge of the couch, staring at the city lights reflected in the glass walls. Her hands gripped the hem of her coat, knuckles white, while the faint hum of the air conditioning seemed louder than the traffic far below. Every sound, every shadow, every pause felt amplified. The memory of her mother’s face in that photo still haunted her, as if it were burned into her vision.Alexander leaned against the window, his usual composure slightly frayed. His gray eyes were sharp, scanning the skyline, calculating, waiting. He hadn’t said a word since they returned from the hospital. Isabella could feel the tension radiating off him, the kind of tension that made the room almost suffocating.“You can’t keep doing this,” she said finally, breaking the silence. Her voice was quiet, but firm. “Living in fear, hiding, running. We

The rain stopped as suddenly as it had begun, leaving the dock wrapped in an eerie stillness. The silence felt wrong, heavy, like the world itself was holding its breath. Isabella stood frozen beside Alexander, her fingers clenched tightly around her mother’s hand. Her heart thundered so loudly in her chest that she was sure the people surrounding them could hear it.The man who had stepped into the light looked unchanged by time.His face was sharper now, colder, but unmistakable.“Victor,” Alexander said quietly.The name sent a chill through Isabella’s spine.Victor Voss.Alexander’s uncle.The man who had vanished the night Alexander’s father died.Her breath caught painfully in her throat. “You told me he was dead.”Alexander did not look away from Victor. “I told you what I believed.”Victor smiled, slow and deliberate, like a predator savoring the moment before the kill. “Belief is such a fragile thing, nephew. Especially when built on lies.”Isabella’s mother tightened her gri

The hospital corridor smelled of antiseptic and fear. Isabella felt it the moment the elevator doors slid open. The silence was wrong. Too clean. Too controlled. Hospitals were never truly quiet, yet this floor felt abandoned, as if life itself had been ordered to stay away. Alexander stepped out first, his presence commanding even in the dim lighting. His eyes moved constantly, memorizing exits, blind corners, reflections on glass doors. “They are already here,” he said softly. Isabella’s heart clenched. “How do you know?” “No cameras,” he replied. “No nurses. No security. That silence is intentional.” She hugged her arms around herself, fighting the tremor threatening to break through her body. Somewhere in this building, her mother was being used as bait. They walked slowly, every step echoing too loudly. Isabella’s thoughts raced faster than her feet. She thought of the photo sent to her phone. Her mother lying weak on a hospital bed, oxygen mask fogged with every breath. A

Isabella did not feel the cold until much later.At first, there was only weight. Her mother’s weight pressing against her chest, heavier than it should have been, heavier than memory should allow. Isabella’s arms trembled as she held her, fingers slick with blood she could not stop.“Mom,” she whispered, her voice raw. “Please. Look at me.”The night swallowed her words.The pier lights flickered above them, reflecting off dark water that moved too calmly for what had just happened. Sirens wailed somewhere far away, growing louder by the second, but Isabella could not bring herself to look up.Her mother’s eyes stared at nothing.Isabella pressed her forehead against her mother’s, shaking now, breath coming in sharp gasps. “You told me everything would be fine. You promised.”Alexander dropped to his knees beside them. He reached out once, then stopped, as if afraid to touch the truth. He checked for a pulse with practiced precision, though the stiffness already told him what he woul

The car did not slow down until the city disappeared behind them.Streetlights gave way to darkness, and the road narrowed into something Isabella did not recognize. Trees rose on both sides like silent witnesses, their branches arching overhead as if closing in. The engine hummed steadily, but Isabella felt every turn as a tightening knot in her chest.“Where are you taking us,” she asked, her voice steady only because she forced it to be.The woman driving did not look back. “Somewhere they won’t expect.”Alexander sat beside Isabella, his presence solid, protective, but even he looked tense now. His phone had no signal. Neither did hers.That alone was terrifying.Minutes stretched into an hour. Then more.Finally, the car slowed and turned onto a cracked road that Isabella knew far too well.Her breath caught.“No,” she whispered.The headlights swept over a rusted gate, half hanging from its hinges. Beyond it stood a familiar structure, worn by time but unmistakable.Her childhoo