Semua Bab Runaway Heiress: The Billionaire’s Forgotten Bride: Bab 401 - Bab 410

The air in the courtroom was thin. It felt recycled, scrubbed of oxygen by the sheer number of bodies pressing into the gallery benches.Liam sat in the front row, his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped loosely. He watched Aurora resume her seat next to Hope. He saw the way Aurora’s hand shook slightly as she smoothed her skirt—the aftershock of the adrenaline dump. She had been magnificent. She had turned her bias into a weapon.But trials weren't won by moments. They were won by momentum.Arthur Vance stood up. He didn't look at his notes. He didn't look at the jury. He looked at the double doors at the back of the room."The prosecution calls its final witness," Vance said. His voice was quiet, barely a ripple in the silence.Judge Halloway peered over his glasses. "Proceed.""We call Vanessa Voss."The name hit the room like a physical blow.Liam stiffened. He felt the blood rush in his ears.Vanessa.The assistant. The woman who had poured his coffee. The woman who had leaked

The microphones looked like a bouquet of dead flowers. Gray foam. Black plastic. Thrust forward by hands attached to people who wanted blood.Hope stood at the top of the courthouse steps. The wind whipped her hair across her face, stinging her eyes, but she didn't brush it away. She liked the sting. It felt real.Behind her, the heavy doors were closed. Inside, the empty defense table sat in the silence of a default judgment. Ten million dollars. A piece of paper that said You Won.But winning felt like holding a stone. Cold. Heavy.Arthur Vance stepped up to the bank of microphones. He looked important. He looked like a lawyer who had just justified his retainer."My client," Vance boomed, his voice projecting over the traffic noise of Pearl Street, "is satisfied with the judgment. The court has affirmed that intellectual property theft is not a victimless crime. We have sent a message today."Hope looked at her shoes. Patent leather. Scuffed at the toe because she had kicked the le

The cabin in the Catskills smelled of woodsmoke and stagnation.It had been weeks since Isabella Voss had stepped outside. The windows were covered with heavy wool blankets, nailed to the frames to block out the light and the drones she was convinced were scanning the forest.The only illumination came from the television set perched on a milk crate, its blue light flickering across the empty wine bottles that littered the floor.Isabella sat in the rocking chair. She wrapped her oatmeal-colored cashmere sweater tighter around her thin frame. She was shivering, though the woodstove was roaring.On the screen, the loop played again.It was the footage from the courthouse steps. Hope Vale-Cross, looking into the camera with those slate-blue eyes that belonged to a ghost."I forgive her," the girl said. Her voice was steady. Unbroken. "I forgive her because I don't want to carry her."Isabella threw her wine glass at the TV.It shattered against the screen, spraying dark red liquid over

The penthouse was no longer a fortress. It was a glass jar, and the lid was screwed on tight.Aurora sat in the window seat of the master bedroom. She hadn't showered in three days. She was wearing the same silk pajamas she had put on the night the article dropped—the night Isabella called. The silk felt greasy against her skin, but taking it off felt like an insurmountable engineering challenge.Her phone was in her hand. It was always in her hand.Scroll. Scroll. Refresh.The algorithm was efficient. It knew she was hurting, so it fed her pain.Daily Mail: Blood Money Queen: Did Aurora Vale Know? TikTok: Video essay: The Vale-Cross Curse explained (1.2M views). Twitter: #Fraud. #Liar. #EatTheRich."Aurora?"Liam stood in the doorway. He was holding a tray. Toast. Tea. A single white flower in a bud vase.He looked terrified.He didn't look like the CEO of a global conglomerate. He looked like the man who had sat on the floor of a hospital hallway nine years ago. He looked like he wa

The words vomited out of her, acid and hot, burning her throat as they hit the cool air of Dr. Chen’s office."Maybe they're right," Aurora sobbed. Her body was curled tight on the moss-green sofa, her hands gripping her knees so hard her knuckles popped. "Maybe I am exactly what Isabella says I am. Maybe I'm a monster who built a castle on a graveyard."She looked at Liam, then quickly away, unable to bear the love in his eyes because it felt like a spotlight on her fraudulence."My mother walked into the ocean because she was empty," Aurora whispered. "My father worked himself to death to cover it up. And I... I took the money. I took the insurance payout and I went to architecture school. I built AVA on the checks from their deaths."She took a ragged breath."And then I married you," she said to Liam’s shoes. "Not for love. Not at first. For revenge. For leverage. I used you. I used everyone. Just like Henry used Isabella."The silence that followed was heavy, filled only with the