All Chapters of Claimed By One Billionaire, Saved By Another : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Sylvie’s POV “If you don’t want to die, leave him now. Darian isn't who you think he is.”The words were scrawled in a jagged, aggressive handwriting as if the writer had been in a frantic hurry. I stared at it, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. My breath hitched, as I stared at the paper. Who would write this? Why would someone try to come between us now?I looked toward the kitchen door. I could hear the low, melodic hum of Darian’s voice as he moved about. We were days away from the wedding. "It’s a prank. It has to be a prank.” I muttered the words softly to myself, the sound of my own voice shaking me.The kitchen door swung open. In a blind panic, I shoved the note behind my back, my fingers crumpling the paper. I forced a smile that felt like it was cracking my face as Darian walked toward me."Here you go, baby girl," he said, his voice a warm caress. He handed me the glass, his fingers lingering against mine."Thank you." My hand trembled as I took the wa

Darian’s POVSoon, I’d be having the perfect day with my wife.My Wife.The word echoed in my head, pulling a low, triumphant laugh from my throat. It was a title of possession. Soon. Very soon, I’d finally have someone I could call mine,someone the world would know belonged to me. I adjusted my cufflinks, the diamond studs catching the light of the stained-glass windows. I lifted my wrist and checked my Patek Philippe.10:02 a.m. Two minutes late.I exhaled slowly and leaned back against the altar. Relax. George probably missed a turn. Sylvie was never careless. She was likely just adjusting her veil for the tenth time. The minute hand moved.10:04. I scanned the entrance again, my jaw tightening. The light coming through the doors seemed too bright, too empty.10:10. My fingers tapped against my thigh as unease crept in. The orchestra had gone quiet. Guests shifted in their seats.By 10:25, whispers rippled through the hall like a disease.At 10:35, one of my best men stepped closer

My left eye had been twitching since morning. I didn’t believe in superstitions, but I’d learned that some signs shouldn't be ignored. Still, I pushed it aside. I had work to do.The conference room was freezing. I liked it that way. If you’re comfortable, you’re not focused. Outside the floor-to-ceiling glass, the city skyline looked the same as any other city—just another place to make money.Mr. Ivan sat across from me, looking like he was about to snap. His hands were gripped so tight on the table his knuckles were white.“Mr. Voss,” he started, trying to sound confident, “working with you would change everything for my company. I’ve followed your career for years. This isn’t just business. It’s an honor.”I didn't say anything. People talk too much when they’re scared.“I heard you recently acquired that estate in the Hamptons,” Ivan continued, leaning back slightly as if we were old friends. “Must be a nice place to escape the city noise. Do you spend much time there, or are you

Darian's PovThe phone rang while I stood at the foot of the bed, staring at the hauntingly empty space where Sylvie should have been. Her pillow remained untouched, a mocking reminder of her absence.The faint, floral trace of her perfume lingered in the air, barely there now, like a memory stubborn enough to refuse to die. I answered without checking the screen, my thumb sliding over the glass with a practiced numbness. “Yes.”“Mr. Blackwood,” a voice came through, steady and professional. “This is Inspector Charles from the NYPD.”The air left my lungs in a sharp hiss. My spine went rigid, the kind of instinctual bracing you do a second before a high-speed impact.“What do you have for me, Inspector?” I asked tensely.“There has been a development in your fiancée’s case,” he replied. “Mr. Kael Voss is currently at the station giving a statement.”The room plunged into a suffocating silence. “…Kael Voss?” I repeated the name slowly, tasting the bitterness of it.“Yes, sir.”My jaw t

SYLVIE POVThe dream was a blur of cold rain and the sound of something heavy scraping against concrete. I was running, but my legs felt like lead. Every time I turned around, the shadows grew longer, reaching for my throat. I tried to scream, but my lungs were filled with water, heavy and suffocating. I snapped awake with a gasp, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. My nightshirt was plastered to my skin, soaked through with a cold, frantic sweat that made me feel oily and frantic. I stayed still for a long time, staring into the dark, waiting for the smell of the damp alley to leave my nose. I felt filthy. I needed to get the grime of the nightmare off me. I swung my legs off the side of the bed, my bare feet sinking into the carpet. It was so thick and soft that it felt like it was trying to swallow my ankles. I didn't stand up right away; I just sat there, my toes buried in the expensive wool, feeling the sharp contrast to the hard, cold concrete of my dreams