Carrying An Heir For The Wrong Billionaire のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 111 - チャプター 119

IRENEI walked straight to the front desk of the hospital, clutching my purse on my shoulder. I would have gone straight to meet Amelia, but I didn't know her room number or which floor she was staying, so I had to submit to the front desk first.I met senior nurse Mara; according to the inscription on the name plate pinned on the left hand side of her nurse uniform. She stood there, flipping through the pages of the file she held.“Hi, I'm looking for Amelia Pierre's room please,” I said, surprisingly smoothly. She looked up from the file at me. “Good day Ms,” she greeted, her tone professional. “How are you related to the person please?”I kept quiet for some seconds, playing with my fingers. “She's my…. I'm her husband's best friend. Conrad Pierre and I are family.”The nurse glanced at me, hesitating to speak. Then, with a soft tone, she said, “I'm sorry but I can't give out personal information about our patients.”I instantly shook my head once. Then, I took out my phone from m

IRENEI stood there, my hands trembling at my sides. I tried to process how all this happened within an hour. Conrad moved a step away from me, his face still laced with pure rage. He then tucked his hands loosely in his pockets.“The cops are on their way here, so I suggest you start thinking of what to say to them to vindicate yourself. But of course, there's nothing to say to vindicate yourself.” His tone was plain, devoid of any pity. “And even if you try to run, I'll find you anywhere you are.”He turned to leave, but I swiftly gripped the hem of his suit jacket. He stopped, turning to face me. He glanced at the hem of his jacket, then at me. He wasn't looking at me the way he did before when everything was normal. Now, he glared like I was something that shouldn't exist.Panic surged through me. My trembling hands became worse. “Please don't do this, Conrad. I promise to immediately return to Norway. Today. But please spare me. Don't call the cops.”He flung my hands off his

CONRAD The Mercedes purred to a stop in front of the grand marble facade of the banquet hall. Conrad got down from the car, stretching his hand forward towards me. I smiled, placing my hand on his, while he gently helped me down from the car.He wore a sleek, tailored grey suit, with grey tie, matching with my long grey dress, having a slit at the side. Even now, he looked the same as he always did. And it was better than him ever looking different. I wouldn't ever want anything about him to change.The moment we got down, a flood of light slammed into us. Cameras clicked like hyperactive fireflies, their lenses catching every sparkle on us and around us.Conrad held Noah's hand by his side as we walked inside the hall. From the glittering chandeliers that dangled like constellations above the entrance, to the huge picture frame of Conrad and I that hung on the entrance wall, everything was amazing.“Wow,” I breathed, the word low. I felt a flutter in my chest, not for the beauty o

CONRAD Gavin's smirk widened. “You're still the same,” he said, voice low. “Nonchalant and proud.” I stared at him, not uttering a word. A thousand memories—since our childhood until now, surged through my mind. We were almost inseparable. Now, we were speaking to each other like we were strangers who had lost our memories of our friendship. “How have you been doing?” I asked, the question desperate to tumble out of my mouth. My voice sounded smaller than I intended. He shrugged, then sighed softly. “I'm leaving for Australia tomorrow. I'll be living there permanently. My business has also been moved there. So, I'm glad I won't be seeing much of you anymore.” He said it with the same casual tone he used when we first got into trouble and he said he wouldn't save me from my father's shouts. But he later did. I smiled, my mouth a thin line. I knew that Gavin was bluffing about being glad to not see me anymore. But I wasn't happy that my only best friend was moving far away. Wi

{Eight Years Later} The house that once echoed with the soft rustle of newborn cries now vibrated with laughter and screams of the children. Dylan and Daisy darted between the sofa cushions in the living room, their laughter echoing off the walls of the house as Conrad tried to grasp them. They had just turned eight years old yesterday. Eight years. It was like time was running faster than it should without pausing for once. It was somehow scary. They celebrated Christmas yesterday with family and friends. And today, it was their alone time. Amelia glanced at Noah who was sitting by the fireplace, reading a book. He was now thirteen years old, but acting like sixteen or seventeen. He wasn't running around alongside his siblings, or playing much with his grandpa like he used to. He had grown overnight into a quiet, smart boy. Amelia had watched him yesterday, during the Christmas celebration. He had taken only two pieces of chocolate truffle from the dining table, though