บททั้งหมดของ Runaway Heiress: The Billionaire’s Forgotten Bride: บทที่ 151 - บทที่ 160

The press release about the "shared exhibition" had calmed the market, but it had ignited a new kind of fire. Curiosity. The world was fascinated. The "Rival CEOs." The "Secret Parents." The "Co-Creators." Every magazine, every network, every blog wanted the exclusive. They wanted the "First Interview" with Liam Cross and Aurora Vale as a united, professional front. Sophia had fielded hundreds of requests. She had rejected them all. Until now. "Vanity Fair," Sophia said, placing a glossy mock-up on Aurora’s desk. "The cover. A ten-page spread. 'The New Power Couple: How Love and War Built an Empire'." Aurora stared at the mock-up. It was seductive. It was prestigious. "It’s too personal," she said. "The headline... 'Love and War'? We aren't marketing a romance novel, Sophia. We are marketing a business strategy." "To the public," Sophia countered, "there is no difference. They buy the clothes because they buy the story. And the story... is you two." She leaned forward. "Th

The waiting room of the internet was a silent, suffocating place. It was 8:58 AM on a Tuesday. The Vanity Fair digital edition was scheduled to drop at 9:00 AM sharp. Aurora Vale sat at her desk in the AVA flagship, the concrete surface cold under her forearms. Her office, usually a sanctuary of controlled chaos—swatches of fabric, sketches of the next season, the hum of the city below—felt airtight. She wasn't working. She was staring at her laptop screen, her finger hovering over the refresh button like it was the trigger of a weapon she wasn't sure she wanted to fire. Two weeks had passed since the photo shoot in Chelsea. Two weeks of silence from the magazine. Two weeks of wondering if Luca, the photographer who claimed to capture "souls," had chosen the armor or the skin. She had built her entire public persona, "Ariane Rousseau," on armor. On the black coats, the high collars, the sunglasses that hid the eyes of a woman who had run away. But in that studio, under the hot

The New Normal wasn't just a schedule. It was a shift in gravity. For five years, Aurora’s world had revolved around a single axis: protecting Ethan. Every decision, every move, every "Fortress" had been built to shield him from the truth of his origin. But now, the truth was sitting at her breakfast table, wearing a gray cashmere sweater and helping Ethan solve a math problem. "It's not about the numbers, Tiger," Liam was saying, his voice low and patient. "It's about the pattern. See? Two, four, six... what comes next?" "Eight!" Ethan shouted, triumphant. "Exactly," Liam said, high-fiving him. "You're a genius." Aurora watched them from the stove, where she was flipping pancakes. The "Secret Pancake Day" had become a Saturday ritual. Ethan looked different. He wasn't just happy. He was... lighter. The small, furrowed brow that he had worn since Paris—the look of a child carrying a secret he didn't understand—was gone. He walked taller. He laughed louder. He had a father. A

The day after the baseball game, the "New Normal" in the Cross-Vale household had shifted again. Ethan was a hero. He had a cast. It was bright blue, covered in dinosaur stickers (applied by Liam), and it was the centerpiece of his existence. He wore it like a medal of honor, a battle scar from his adventure with his father. "I fell," Ethan explained solemnly to Sylvie, waving his encased arm. "But Liam caught me. He has fast hands." Liam, sitting at the kitchen island with his coffee, looked up. He still looked a little pale, the guilt of the accident lingering like a shadow under his eyes. "I didn't catch you fast enough," Liam murmured. "You caught me before the dragon got me," Ethan said, rewriting history with the easy grace of a six-year-old. Aurora stood by the stove, flipping pancakes. It was Sunday. A "nothing" day on the schedule. She watched them. The dynamic had changed. Before, Liam was the "fun dad," the visitor. Now, he was the protector who had failed, and the

The drive to Lenox Hill Hospital was a blur of red lights and white knuckles. Aurora sat in the back of the town car, her phone clutched in her hand. She had already called the hospital. Ethan Vale. Room 402. Stable. The word stable was a lifeline, but it didn't stop her mind from spiraling. He fell. He broke his arm. Liam was there. The images played on a loop. Her son, crying. Her son, in pain. And Liam... Liam, the man who had promised to protect him, standing over him. Was it his fault? Had he been distracted? Had he been on the phone, closing a deal, while Ethan tumbled down the stairs? The "unwell" voice whispered: He isn't capable. He isn't a father. He's a CEO. But another voice, quieter but persistent, whispered: He stayed. He called you. He didn't hide it. The car screeched to a halt at the emergency entrance. Aurora was out before the driver could open the door. She ran through the lobby, ignoring the security guard who tried to stop her. "My son is here," she sna