Sold To A Billionaire のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 51 - チャプター 60

The room froze.Lawson stared at the document in Maxwell’s hand like it was a loaded weapon aimed straight at his chest.“What did you just say?” Lawson asked slowly.Maxwell didn’t lower the paper. His grip tightened, knuckles white, eyes burning with a fury sharpened by truth.“You heard me,” he said. “You were never capable of fathering a child.”Amelia’s breath caught painfully.Her head turned between them, disbelief and terror crashing together in her chest.“No,” she whispered. “That’s not—”Lawson laughed.It was sharp. Controlled. Empty.“You’re desperate,” Lawson said, stepping closer. “So you fabricate medical records now?”Maxwell didn’t flinch. “Those are your records.”Lawson’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Impossible.”“Tested three years ago,” Maxwell continued coldly. “Quietly. Ordered by your mother.”Amelia’s heart slammed against her ribs.Margaret.Lawson’s gaze flicked toward the doorway.Margaret stood there.Perfectly still.The silence stretched until it was s

Lawson didn’t wait for permission.He yanked Amelia out of the bed, one arm braced around her back, the other gripping her wrist with crushing certainty. Pain shot through her body as her feet barely touched the floor.“Lawson—wait—” she gasped.“Move,” he ordered.Alarms screamed down the corridor. Red lights pulsed against the walls, bathing the hallway in a warning glow. Security voices overlapped, sharp and frantic.“Unauthorized transfer—lock the east wing!”Lawson didn’t slow.He pulled Amelia into the hallway, his body positioned deliberately between her and anyone who might try to stop him. Nurses scattered. One guard stepped forward.“Mr. Reynolds, hospital protocol—”Lawson slammed his shoulder into the man’s chest, sending him crashing into the wall.“Get out of my way.”Amelia’s heart pounded violently. “You’re hurting me!”Lawson didn’t respond.His grip tightened.They turned the corner sharply and entered a service corridor, the air colder, the lighting dimmer. A privat

Darkness swallowed the estate.Not the gentle kind—the controlled, artificial kind that comes from backup generators humming to life. This was raw. Sudden. Violent. As if the night itself had reached in and snapped the spine of the house.Amelia’s scream tore through the room before she could stop it.“Lawson!”Her heart hammered as she fumbled blindly, hands shaking, feet tangling in the sheets as she slid off the bed. The blackout had erased the room so completely she couldn’t tell where the walls ended or began.The baby kicked hard.A sharp, panicked jolt that stole her breath.“No—no, no,” she whispered, clutching her stomach as another wave of fear surged through her. “Please—”The door burst open.Light flooded the room from the hallway—dim emergency strips casting long, distorted shadows across the walls.Lawson filled the doorway, gun already in his hand.“Stay where you are,” he ordered.His voice wasn’t calm this time.It was alert.Dangerously alive.She scrambled toward h

Amelia couldn’t tell where the scream ended and the darkness began.The lights went out so completely it felt like the world had been erased mid-sentence. The penthouse dissolved into shadows, into motion, into chaos that moved faster than her mind could track. The echo of Margaret Reynolds’ laughter still rang in her ears—low, deliberate, certain—like a verdict already passed.Then the sound came.A gunshot.Not close enough to rupture her ears, not distant enough to be safe.Her body reacted before thought. Amelia lunged forward, arms outstretched, a single name tearing from her throat.“Maxwell!”Her knees slammed into marble as Lawson yanked her back just in time, dragging her behind the heavy dining table as another shot cracked through the air. Glass exploded somewhere above them. Someone shouted orders. Footsteps thundered.“Stay down!” Lawson barked, one arm locked around her waist, the other already up, gun drawn, eyes sharp and lethal in the emergency glow that flickered on

The scream tore out of Amelia like something being ripped from her chest.“No—no—please—” Her fingers clawed at the sheets as the doctor’s words echoed again, slower now, heavier, each syllable cutting deeper. “We’re losing one of the heartbeats.”Machines beeped erratically. Nurses moved faster. The room closed in.Amelia’s entire body shook as she pressed both hands over her stomach, as if sheer will could hold life in place. “You said there were two,” she cried. “You said—”“We’re trying,” the doctor said firmly, but his eyes had already shifted, focused on the monitor with the kind of seriousness that didn’t offer comfort. “Stay with me, Amelia. Breathe.”She tried.She really did.But all she could hear was Lawson’s voice in her head—my child—and Maxwell’s face when he looked at her in the hallway, the quiet devastation in his eyes, the love he didn’t ask her to return because he already knew how broken everything was.The monitor let out a long, merciless sound.Flat.One line.