The Billionaire’s Discarded Bride のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 121 - チャプター 130

Bella POVHe was in the kitchen when I came out, two glasses of water on the counter, his back to me. He turned when he heard my footsteps and handed me a glass without saying anything, which was very Caleb-like. I took it as we stood on opposite sides of the kitchen island and drank our water like two people who had just survived something and weren't entirely sure yet what the protocol was."I owe you an apology," I said. "Bella""Let me." I set the glass down. "I watched a business handoff in a car park and I spent days building a case against you in my head, and when I finally confronted you I made you feel like a suspect. That wasn't about you. It was about every man who ever gave me a reason to distrust them, and I used you as the target for all of it." I looked at him. "You didn't deserve that, you have spent months doing everything right and I handed you the bill for other people's debts. I'm sorry."He was quiet for a moment. Then he came around the island, not fast, giving

Bella POVI rolled my hips once, slow, grinding down until he was buried to the hilt. Then I started riding him—deliberate at first, then faster, harder. My hands braced on his chest, nails scoring faint red lines. Every downward stroke dragged a rough sound from his throat. His hips jerked up to meet me, fighting the restraint, chasing more.I leaned forward, breasts brushing his chest, lips at his ear. “You’re so loud,” I whispered, voice wrecked and teasing. “Tom’s only a few rooms down. You’re gonna wake him.”He laughed—short, breathless, almost a groan—then bit his lip hard, trying to muffle the next sound. His wrists strained against the tie; the headboard creaked.“Using my own words against me,” he managed, voice-rough. “Evil.”I smiled against his jaw, then sat up straight again and picked up the pace—riding him relentlessly, chasing that second edge that was already building fast. My thighs burned, my core ached, but I didn’t stop. Couldn’t. The sight of him like this—restr

Caleb POVThe press conference was Bella's idea. I'd argued for a controlled media statement — quiet, professional, no questions instead she had looked at me across the kitchen table with her coffee and said, Caleb, they already have photos of Tom at the window. They have months of speculation. A statement looks like damage control. A press conference looks like confidence. Then she'd gone back to her laptop and that had, apparently, been the end of the discussion.She wasn't wrong, she was rarely wrong about anything that involved other people watching.I stood beside her on the small raised platform in the Black Tower media room with Tom between us, his small hand locked around two of my fingers with the grip of a child who had recently decided that this was simply where his hand lived, and I watched Bella face a room full of cameras and reporters with a calm expression that I had come to understand meant she was completely in control and enjoying it slightly more than she would eve

Caleb POVTom hated the security detail with a focused, articulate passion that I found, privately, impressive.He didn't cry about it, didn't throw a tantrum. He simply stood in the kitchen on Monday morning, looked at the two people Lena had assigned as his close-protection team, and said"But they're strangers.""They're colleagues of mine," I said. "Like James.""James brings me biscuits.""Leon has biscuits," the security officer on the left said immediately, producing one from his jacket pocket.Tom looked at it, then at Leon. "What kind?""Chocolate digestive.""Okay," Tom said, and took the biscuit, and the negotiation was, apparently, complete.The decision to pause school came from Bella and I hadn't argued with it."One week," she'd said. "Until Lena's team has a clearer picture of the school surveillance. Then we reassess."What she'd built in that week — the reading schedule pinned to the kitchen whiteboard, the morning lessons at the dining table, the afternoon project th

Bella POVDiana arrived at the penthouse at nine in the morning with a laptop bag, a second phone, and the particular expression of someone who has decided to do a thing they find personally distasteful but strategically necessary.I let her in because Caleb asked me to. I stood in the kitchen doorway with my coffee and watched her set up at the dining table and reminded myself that her file on Caleb's phone had been thorough, accurate, and had given us three names we wouldn't have had otherwise.That was the only reason she was here."Tom's at Maya's," Caleb said, coming in from the hallway. "We have the morning."Diana looked up. "I'm aware you both have questions about my methods," she said."Questions are generous," I said.She looked at me steadily. "I've been investigating my brother's life for years using means that were not always strictly legal. You can be angry about that or you can use what I found. I'd recommend the second option."I sat down across from her. "Walk us thro