PREGNANT BY MY HUSBAND’S RIVAL: THE BILLIONAIRE'S REVENGE のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 71 - チャプター 80

Julian’s POVThe red light on the biometric scanner was blinking. It looked like a tiny, angry eye. I pressed my palm against the cold steel of the safe, but nothing happened. It needed Adrian Visser’s eye. It needed his fingerprint."Sir," Marcus said. His voice was a harsh whisper. He was looking down at his tablet. The screen showed the security map of the building. "We have a problem. A big problem.""Not now, Marcus," I said. I didn't look at him. I was trying to see if there was a gap between the safe and the wall. There wasn't. It was bolted into the solid concrete floor."The five-minute camera loop is about to end," Marcus said. He grabbed my arm. His fingers were shaking a little bit. "And that is not all. Look at the monitor. There are two guards on this floor. They are doing a random check. They are walking down our hallway right now.""We just need two more minutes," I growled. "There has to be a manual override. Adrian is a paranoid man. He wouldn't trust a computer wit

Mark grabbed his cracked phone and dialed the number for the local police department. He didn't call the regular tip line; he asked for the sergeant on duty, making his voice sound frantic and broken. "Hello? Yes, my name is Mark Montgomery," he gasped into the phone, rubbing his eyes to make himself sound like he was crying. "I need help. I just saw my wife on television. Elena Montgomery. She’s being held at the Vane Estate." "Sir, we are aware of the situation at the Vane property," the officer on the line said. "There is already a security detail down there." "No, you don't understand!" Mark shouted, his voice cracking perfectly with fake emotion. "She just admitted on live TV that we are legally married. We are not divorced! Julian Vane has my legal wife and my minor son locked inside his mother's house. I tried to call her, and she sounded terrified. She’s being pressured by a billionaire. He is harboring them against their will, and he won't let me see them. I want to report

Elena’s POVThe sound of Mrs. Irene’s pen scratching against the paper felt like a physical blow to my chest. It was a small, sharp sound, but it changed everything. She didn't look at my tears. She didn't look at the way my hands were shaking as I held onto my son. She just blew on the white paper to dry the ink, her face as hard as stone."It's done," Mrs. Irene said, lifting the paper from her clipboard. She turned her cold, grey eyes toward Stefan. "This is an official emergency removal order from the state. From this moment until a family court judge reviews the case, Leo is a ward of the state. You can cooperate, or I can have those officers outside come in and enforce it.""You have no right," I breathed, my voice cracking. I stepped back, pushing myself against the wall, trying to make my body a shield in front of Leo. He was still sitting on the rug, completely frozen, his small fingers dug so deeply into his stuffed bear that his knuckles were white. "He is my son. Mark doe

The white papers from the Montgomery folder fluttered across the gravel driveway like large flakes of snow. For a few long seconds, nobody on the front steps of the mansion moved. The only sound was the clicking of the camera lenses from the far end of the lawn and the low, heavy rumble of Julian’s SUV engine. Mark stood frozen against the side of his white car. His eyes were wide, staring down at the document resting right on top of his shoe. It was a copy of the monthly wire transfer from Apex Consulting, with his own bank account number printed clearly at the bottom. "Sergeant," Julian said, his voice dropping to a low, commanding tone as he stood at the center of the steps. He pointed down at the gravel. "Look at the papers. Don't take my word for it. Read the contract yourself." Sergeant Miller looked from Julian to the scattered documents on the ground. He turned his head toward the second police officer. "Davis. Gather those papers up before the wind carries them into the

The white sedan squealed around a sharp corner and came to a sudden stop in front of a small, faded brick house. This house was miles away from the wealthy side of the city. There were no flashing cameras here, and no tall iron gates. It was a simple, middle-class neighborhood. Mark jammed the car gear into park and practically threw himself out of the driver’s seat. His hands were still shaking. His gray sweater was covered in dry dirt from where he had fallen onto Julian's gravel driveway. He ran up the cracked concrete porch and banged his fists against the wooden front door. "Mom! Mom, open the door!" Mark shouted, his voice cracking with fear. After a few loud clicks, the door swung open. A middle-aged woman with sharp eyes and graying hair stood there. It was Eleanor, Mark’s mother. She looked at her son’s messy hair, his red face, and the dirt on his clothes. She didn't look worried; she looked annoyed. "Mark? What on earth are you doing here?" Eleanor asked, crossing h