All Chapters of Runaway Heiress: The Billionaire’s Forgotten Bride: Chapter 361 - Chapter 370

Time, Aurora realized, had finally stopped acting like an enemy.For the better part of a year, time had been a countdown. A ticking clock on a high-risk pregnancy. A sentence handed down by a judge. A deadline for a deposition.But for the last six months, time had become a river. It flowed. It carried them forward, gentle and steady, smoothing the rough edges of their trauma into something that looked, remarkably, like a normal life.Aurora stood in her office at Vale-Cross Global. It was 4:45 PM on a Tuesday in October. Outside, the autumn sun was turning the Hudson River into a ribbon of hammered copper.She packed her bag. Tablet. Sketchbook. A half-eaten bag of goldfish crackers that had somehow migrated from her purse to her desk."Heading out?" Claire asked from the doorway.Claire was the COO now, officially. She wore authority as easily as she wore her tailored blazers."I am," Aurora said. "Ethan has a science fair project due tomorrow. We're building a volcano.""Vinegar a

The waiting room of the New York Center for Reproductive Medicine was quiet. It was a silence different from the NICU, different from the courtroom, different from the penthouse at 3:00 AM.It was the silence of held breath.Aurora sat in a plush velvet chair that was clearly designed to comfort people who were in the process of being told they had run out of time. She smoothed the fabric of her trousers. She checked her watch. 2:14 PM.Liam sat next to her. He was holding her hand, his thumb tracing the knuckles. He looked calm—the CEO mask was firmly in place—but Aurora could feel the tension in his grip. He was scanning the room, assessing the threats.But the threats here weren't paparazzi or kidnappers. They were biological. They were invisible."Mr. and Mrs. Cross?"A nurse stood in the doorway. She wore soft pink scrubs. Everything here was soft. Pink. Beige. Gentle. It was an aesthetic designed to cushion the blow of hard data.They stood up. They followed the nurse down a hal

The needle was thin. A hair of steel.Aurora sat on the closed lid of the toilet in the master bathroom. Her pajama top was pulled up, exposing her stomach. The skin was pale, marked only by the faint, silver line of her C-section scar—the map of the last time she had done this."Ready?" Liam asked.He was kneeling on the bathmat. He held the syringe with the precision of a man defusing a bomb. He had watched the instructional videos three times. He had practiced on an orange."Ready," Aurora said. She gripped the edge of the seat.She wasn't afraid of the pain. She was afraid of the hope.Liam pinched an inch of skin near her navel. He didn't hesitate. He pushed the plunger.A sharp sting. A burn as the Follistim entered the tissue."Done," Liam whispered.He withdrew the needle. He pressed a cotton ball to the tiny red dot of blood. He kissed her forehead."One down," he said.Aurora let out a breath. "Ten days to go."She looked at the sharps container on the counter. It was empty

The room didn't change when Dr. Rosenberg walked in. The walls remained beige. The air conditioner continued its low, indifferent hum. The framed photos of babies on the desk didn't turn away in shame.But the air pressure dropped. It fell so fast Aurora’s ears popped.She knew before he sat down. She knew by the way he held the file—closed, tight against his chest, like a shield. She knew by the way he didn't meet her eyes immediately."I'm sorry," Dr. Rosenberg said.Two words.They were small words. Common words. People used them when they bumped into someone on the subway or spilled coffee.But in this room, they were an execution."No," Liam whispered beside her. His hand clamped around hers, squeezing so hard she felt her ring dig into bone."The beta HCG level is less than 0.1," Dr. Rosenberg said gently. "It’s negative, Aurora. Neither embryo implanted."Neither.Two sparks. Two flashes of light on the ultrasound screen. Two potential lives—maybe a boy, maybe a girl, maybe the

The map of their desperation was drawn in purple and yellow ink across Aurora’s abdomen.Liam uncapped the syringe. The needle seemed larger this time. Sharper. Or maybe his eyes were just tired of looking at it.Aurora sat on the edge of the bathtub, her pajama top hiked up. She didn't look at the needle. She looked at the tile floor, her jaw set in a line of grim endurance that reminded him of the day she testified in court."Ready?" Liam asked. His voice was a low rumble in the quiet bathroom."Do it," she said.He pinched an inch of skin near her hip. There wasn't much clear space left. The bruising from the first round had barely faded before they started the second. Dr. Rosenberg had increased the dosage—Menopur, Gonal-F, a cocktail of hormones designed to force nature’s hand.Liam pushed the needle in.Aurora didn't flinch. She just exhaled, a long, shuddering breath that rattled in her chest."I'm sorry," Liam whispered. He hated this part. He hated being the one to inflict th