Carrying An Heir For The Wrong Billionaire 의 모든 챕터: 챕터 91 - 챕터 100

CONRAD I entered the conference room, heading straight for the executive chair at the head of the table. Everyone was already gathered. Board members, major shareholders, and a few senior executives. Their eyes flickered towards me as I sat down, facing them. I felt like I was under an investigation, but I didn't let it get to me. I never let my worries show. Their murmurings ceased the moment I sat down. I tried to steady my breathing. I still didn't know what the meeting was about this early. Neither did I know what the allegation was. All I knew was that this was urgent. I waited to hear what was happening. Mr Lawrence, a senior board member with silver hair and a perpetual frow, sat up straight. “Mr Pierre," he said, his tone firm. “What is with the allegations that have been brought up against you? Is it really true?" I frowned, staring at him. “What are you talking about? I haven't heard of any allegations," I replied, my voice flat. I hadn't checked what the allegati

CONRAD I strode in the hallway, my shoulders sagged. My mind was blank on how to resolve this issue. I couldn't show the proof of my rough draft to the press either, because Gavin had it too. Gavin knew every draft until I had finished the prototype. I had involved him back then because I trusted him and believed he would never betray me. If I tried to deny the allegations, they would need proof, and that was what I didn't have yet. As I reached my study, a soft rustle behind the closed door of Amelia's bedroom caught my attention. The door swung open, and Amelia stepped out, her hair slightly damp from her evening shower. She was already putting on her night gown. She stopped outside her door, staring at me as if she was trying to read the exhaustion etched on my face. Concern was evident in her eyes. “Conrad… is everything alright? This morning, you rushed out of the house without__” she began, but her words trailed off in my head. Before she could finish, I strode to her

IRENE The highway stretched out, dark, with few cars moving around. I turned on the headlights of my rental car, aiming for a clear vision in the dusk. I had flown in late because Tristan wouldn't let me leave. He had locked the doors, insisting that I stay back and forget Conrad. But how could I? I couldn't forget him, not until I had gotten the clarification I needed. And Tristan, he had let me go when I promised to get married to him once I returned. But I knew that it would be a long time before I returned to Tristan or Norway. When I finally reached the gate of Conrad's estate, I was surprised to see a line of sleek black cars pulling up in his compound. The occupants of the car were dressed in silk, elegant gowns and black sleek tuxedos. A burly man stood by the gate, waving down a flag in front of me. I slowed the car, my hands clenched on the steering wheel. He strode to my side window, waiting for me to slide the glass down. I did it, my expression puzzled about what

IRENE I knocked gently on Conrad's bedroom door the next morning, falling my long blonde hair I had packed up earlier. No response came. I knocked again, twice. The door finally opened, but rather than Conrad, Amelia stood there, holding onto the slightly opened door. She was wearing her night gown, her hair slightly disheveled. “Umm… I'm looking for Connie," I said, overlooking her and trying to peek inside the room. “He's getting dressed. He'll be down soon, so you can wait for him in the living room,” she said plainly. Amelia shifted, and my gaze instantly landed on Conrad. I stood frozen at the door, staring at the brief glimpse of Conrad and Noah. A pang of jealousy courses through my veins as I watched him tenderly brush Noah's hair. It was an intimate moment, and I felt like an outsider among them. Amelia's voice brought me back to reality, and I turned my attention to her. "Is something wrong?” she asked. I shook my head. "Wait in the living room then. He'll be

IRENE I slipped out of my room after what seemed like eternity. I didn't know how much time had gone by, but I could tell it was already past noon. My stomach growled loudly as I walked across the hallway. The house was still, no sound still heard. My throat felt as though it was a desert. It was dry and cracked, begging for water. I hadn't eaten anything since morning, nor drank water. The news I had heard earlier had shocked me deep in my bones. But now, my body needs strength. I couldn't think properly. The stress had hollowed at my stomach and making food was the only thing that could steady me or help me think straight. It was like a ritual for me whenever I felt like I was zoning out. I entered the kitchen, my steps slow, as if I moved any faster than this, I could collapse. I pressed my palm against the cool marble counter, trying to steady the tremor in my hands. I took out a glass, filling it with water from the jug beside me. One gulp. Two gulps. My throat was still