All Chapters of The CEO’s Contract Bride: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

ISABELLA’s POVThe penthouse looked different.I'd only been gone for three weeks. But everything had changed.The living room had been child-proofed. Sharp corners covered. Breakables moved to high shelves.Someone had done this while we were in Paris. Had transformed the space to something that could accommodate a recovering five-year-old.Ethan's work, probably."Maman, regarde!" Brahms called from down the hall. "Il y a un piano!"*Mama, look! There's a piano!*I followed his voice to the room Ethan had designated as Brahms's.The door had his name painted in soft blue letters.BRAHMSIt was a guest room three weeks ago. Now it's a child's room. Blue walls. Shelves with books and toys. A bed with a duvet covered in stars. A desk by the window. Medical equipment in the corner. Oxygen monitor. IV stand. Medication cart. The equipment is necessary but it looks wrong here. Institutional. Clinical. Breaking the illusion. And in the corner sat a small upright piano. Not expensive. Just

ISABELLA'S POV Lucia and I sat in the kitchen after Brahms went to rest.Abby had taken him upstairs, and faintly, through the quiet house, I could hear her reading softly in French—Brahms’s favorite story about the boy who built clouds.I made coffee, set a cup in front of Lucia, and sat across from her at the island.“How is he?” she asked.“Recovering well,” I said. “The transplant is holding. His blood counts are improving steadily. Dr. Wolcott is pleased.”“That’s good.”“We still have weekly follow-ups for the next month. Then bi-weekly. Then monthly, if everything stays stable. He’ll remain on immunosuppressants for at least a year—possibly longer.”Lucia nodded, then studied me carefully.“And you?”I frowned. “What do you mean?”“I mean you. Not Brahms’s medication schedule.” Her voice softened. “How are you, really?”I opened my mouth to give the standard answer. I'm fine. I'm managing. I'm handling it.But Lucia's expression stopped me. She knew me too well. Would see thr

ETHAN’S POV I called Caleb that afternoon.Because he was the only person I knew who could separate emotion from consequence without losing sight of either.He picked up on the first ring.“You sound tired,” he said.“I am tired.”“How tired?”I looked down at myself, standing in the upstairs hall outside Brahms’s room, one hand resting on the wall because my back had started aching again after too many hours on my feet.“Tired enough that sitting hurts less than standing, but standing is easier than getting back up after sitting.”“That bad?”A pause.Then Caleb’s voice sharpened slightly.“What happened?”I let out a quiet breath.“Brahms found out no one in New York knows about him.”Silence.Then, “How?”“An accident. Abby slipped.”“And?”“And he asked why I don’t live with him. Asked if it was because of him.”Caleb exhaled slowly.I looked toward Brahms’s closed door.“He thinks normal families live together. He thinks we’re choosing strange over normal.”“He’s right.”I close

SOPHIA'S POV I showed up at Ethan's office at 3 PM. Unannounced. The way I'd done dozens of times before.His assistant looked up. Surprise flickered across her face before she controlled it."Ms. Vale. I'm sorry, but Mr. Dexter isn't available right now.""That's fine. I'll wait.""He's requested no visitors today. Perhaps you could schedule an appointment—""I said I'll wait."I walked past her desk. Toward Ethan's office. She stood. Tried to intercept."Ms. Vale, please. He's in a meeting. He specifically asked not to be disturbed.""Then I'll wait in his office until he's done.""I really can't let you do that."I turned to face her. Smiled. The smile that usually made people step aside."Rebecca, isn't it? We've met several times. You've always been so helpful before. I just need a few minutes of Ethan's time. Surely that's not too much to ask."She hesitated. Uncertain. Caught between her boss's instructions and years of conditioning to accommodate me.I didn't wait for her to

ISABELLA’S POV The statement went live at 8:03 AM.By 8:05, my phone started vibrating.Press requests. Investor inquiries. Media alerts. Messages from the board.I stood in the dressing room of the penthouse, staring at my reflection while Lucia monitored the response from her tablet.“Read it again,” I said.Lucia looked up. “You memorized it.”“Read it anyway.”She sighed softly but obeyed.“Mr. Ethan Dexter and Mrs. Isabella Moretti-Dexter confirm that they share a son, Brahms Moretti-Dexter, whose recent medical treatment required privacy and temporary withdrawal from public engagements. The family appreciates the concern shown during this period and asks for continued respect regarding their child’s health and privacy.”She lowered the tablet.“It’s controlled. Clean. Minimal. Exactly what we agreed on.”Minimal.That was the point.No age. No timeline. No details about Paris. No explanation for why no one knew the child existed.Just enough truth to stop speculation before the