บททั้งหมดของ Runaway Heiress: The Billionaire’s Forgotten Bride: บทที่ 51 - บทที่ 60

Aurora was moving toward the exit, her heart beating a frantic retreat against her ribs, when the music changed.The frantic, conversational hum of the cocktail hour faded, replaced by the low, swelling, oceanic sweep of a waltz. The lights in the Grand Ballroom dimmed, turning the gold-leafed cavern into a twilight world of shadows and glittering diamonds.She was ten feet from the heavy, velvet-draped doors. Ten feet from the cool night air, from the car, from safety."Leaving so soon, Madame Rousseau?"The voice was a physical barricade.Aurora stopped. She didn't need to turn to know who it was. The scent of sandalwood and citrus, the heat radiating from him, the sheer gravity of his presence... it was Liam.He had not stayed at the bar. He had not followed Vanessa. He had followed her.She turned, her face composing itself into the mask of "Ariane," the bored, French enigma.Liam Cross stood directly in her path. He was not smiling. His face was a study in dark, obsessive intensi

The office of the CEO of Cross Empire was a kingdom of glass.Perched on the 80th floor, it offered a god's-eye view of Manhattan. From here, the city was just a grid, a machine that Liam Cross understood, manipulated, and owned.But tonight, the grid was broken.It was 2 AM. Liam was not sleeping. He was not reviewing the quarterly reports for the Asian markets. He was not strategizing the acquisition of the new logistics firm.He was staring at a single, black-and-white photograph on his tablet.It was a paparazzi shot from the steps of The Pierre, taken three hours ago.It was blurry, grainy, and overexposed. But the subject was unmistakable.A woman in a black tuxedo, captured mid-stride, fleeing the light. Her head was turned slightly, her profile sharp against the chaos of the flashbulbs. Her expression was hidden by the turn of her head, but the line of her jaw, the set of her shoulders... it was a silhouette he had traced a thousand times in the dark.Ariane Rousseau.He zoome

The meeting in Liam Cross’s office had been a negotiation.It had ended as a ceasefire.But in the boardroom of the AVA flagship, two weeks later, there was no peace. There was only the cold, digital hum of war.Aurora stood at the head of the concrete table, her back to the window, her silhouette sharp against the gray New York sky. She wore her "wolf" suit—the charcoal one."They are blocking us," she said, her voice low and dangerous.Elias sat to her right, looking tired. Her father, Henry Vale—the "silent" board member—sat to her left, looking grim.On the screen in front of them was a logistics report.The massive, global luxury retailer Lumina, the one that held the keys to the Asian market, had suddenly, inexplicably, put AVA’s contract on hold."It’s not a block," Henry said, his voice rough. "It’s a squeeze. Lumina is in bed with Cross Empire. They’ve had an exclusive distribution deal for ten years.""And that deal," Aurora said, tapping the screen, "expires next month."Sh

The glass kingdom of the Cross Empire was not silent. It was vibrating with the low, angry hum of a machine that had just lost a vital gear.Liam stood by the window of his office, his back to the room. The city below was a gray, rain-swept grid, a maze he usually controlled with a flick of his wrist.But today, the maze had trapped him."The Kyoto shipment is confirmed," Adrian’s voice said from behind him. "They're shipping the first run of bamboo silk next week. It’s fast. Impossibly fast."Liam didn't turn. He watched a drop of rain trace a jagged line down the glass."And the leather?" he asked, his voice a low rumble."Vegan," Adrian said, a note of grudging respect in his tone. "Mushroom-based. Sourced from a lab in Oregon. It's... innovative. The press is eating it up. 'AVA goes Green.' 'The Future of Luxury.' She spun it, Liam. She turned your blockade into a marketing campaign."Liam’s hand, resting on the cold glass, curled into a fist.He had bought the mills. He had bough

The "war" Vanessa Leigh had promised was not starting now. It had started five years ago, in the aftermath of a wedding that never happened.The present—Liam’s office, the dossiers, the obsession—faded as Vanessa sat alone in her dark apartment, pouring a glass of wine she didn't want.She closed her eyes, and the memory, sharp and jagged as broken glass, returned.Five Years Ago. Three Days After the Wedding.The Cross Empire tower was a morgue.The wedding of the century had imploded. The press was camped outside like vultures. And Liam Cross, the man who was supposed to be on a honeymoon in Bora Bora, was sitting in his office, staring at a wall of rain.Vanessa walked in. She was wearing white. A deliberate choice. A subliminal message. I am here. I am clean. I am the one who stayed.She had won. Aurora Vale was gone. The path was clear."Liam?" she whispered, walking to his desk. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "You need to eat. You haven't left this room in two days."Liam di