All Chapters of Runaway Heiress: The Billionaire’s Forgotten Bride: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

The rain had stopped, but the air in the small apartment in Queens was heavy with the smell of damp plaster and impending disaster.Liam Cross stood in the center of the room, the laptop open on the table, the map of his son's life taped to the wall. The word BURN was scrawled in red marker next to the location of the IFA Awards.He had found the ghost. He had found the proof.But he hadn't found Vanessa."Mr. Cross," Graves said, stepping into the room, his face grim. "We have a trace on her phone. It just pinged.""Where?" Liam demanded."She's moving," Graves said. "Fast. She's heading toward the West Side Highway.""The Intrepid," Liam realized. The venue for the awards was an aircraft carrier docked on the Hudson. "She's going there now.""The event isn't until tomorrow," Graves said."She's planting something," Liam said, the cold certainty settling in his gut. "Or she's casing it. Either way, we have to stop her."He walked out of the apartment, leaving the map, the laptop, the

The morning after Vanessa’s arrest, the sky over New York was a bruised, delicate purple. The storm had broken, leaving the air sharp and clean, but the city still felt like it was recovering from a fever.Aurora stood in the center of her atelier.It was 7 AM. The doors were locked. The staff hadn't arrived yet.The space was silent, but it wasn't empty.The midnight-blue velvet gown—the "Reconciliation"—stood on its form in the center of the room. It was untouched. Perfect. A storm cloud captured in silk and tulle.Aurora walked around it, her fingers trailing in the air, not quite touching the fabric.She had saved it. But she felt... heavy.The adrenaline of the chase, the terror of the sabotage, the rage at Vanessa... it had all burned off, leaving behind a cold, hollow ache.She had won the battle. But the war inside her was still raging.He didn't do it.The realization was a stone in her shoe. Liam hadn't sent Sophie. He hadn't tried to destroy her work. He had hunted Vanessa

The Intrepid was a floating palace, a contradiction of steel and silk, of warfare and artistry. The main tent on the flight deck was a glowing, transparent bubble against the New York night, filled with a thousand people who had come to witness a coronation.Aurora sat at Table One, her back rigid, her hands folded in her lap. She wore the "Reconciliation" gown, the midnight-blue velvet storm cloud that had almost been destroyed by turpentine and hate.Beside her, Elias Ward sat like a king in exile, his silver-topped cane resting against the table. On her other side was her father, Henry Vale.Three generations of secrets, sitting in a row.The awards ceremony was a marathon of speeches, clips, and polite applause. Aurora watched, but she didn't see. Her mind was a split screen.On one side, the stage. The lights. The prize she had fought for.On the other, the image of Liam Cross, sitting at Table Two, just ten feet away.He wasn't looking at the stage either. He was looking at her.

The "Reconciliation" had been a public triumph. But in the private, hushed world of the afterparty, the truce was already fraying at the edges.The party was held in the glass-walled Observatory at the top of the Standard Hotel, overlooking the High Line and the river beyond. It was a space designed for beautiful people to be seen being beautiful.Aurora stood by the window, a glass of champagne in her hand that she had no intention of drinking. She had changed out of the midnight-blue gown into something sharper—a white tuxedo dress that was equal parts armor and invitation.She was watching the room.Ethan was safe at the beach house with Sylvie and a security detail that rivaled the Secret Service. Liam had insisted. No chances, he had said, his face grim. Vanessa is gone, but the world is still full of wolves.So tonight, she was alone. Or as alone as the "Designer of the Year" could be in a room full of people desperate to congratulate her."You look like you're plotting a murder

The morning in Bora Bora broke not with the gentle, tropical sunrise Aurora had expected, but with a sudden, frantic vibration.Liam's phone.It was on the nightstand, buzzing against the glass top, a persistent, angry insect.Aurora stirred, tangled in the white sheets and Liam’s arms. For a moment, she was disoriented. The smell of salt. The sound of the ocean. The warmth of his skin.Then, the reality of the buzzing phone crashed in.Liam groaned, his arm tightening around her waist. "Ignore it," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep. "We're in a bubble.""Bubbles pop," Aurora whispered. She sat up, her hair falling over her face. "And your phone never rings at 6 AM unless the world is ending."Liam sighed, a sound of pure, frustrated resignation. He reached out, his hand fumbling for the device. He squinted at the screen.His expression changed instantly.The sleepy lover vanished. The CEO returned.He sat up, the sheet falling to his waist. "It's Graves.""Graves?" Aurora asked