All Chapters of THE BILLIONAIRE'S DIRTY SECRET: A FORBIDDEN SECOND CHANCE: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

SHATTERED ROMAN'S POVThe pounding in my head was the first thing I noticed.Then the warmth beside me.I groaned, my mouth dry, eyes gritty, as I slowly regained consciousness. The room was dark, the city lights outside casting faint shadows across the ceiling. My body felt heavy, weighed down by too much whiskey and too little sleep.Something soft was pressed against my side.I turned my head slowly.Liana.She was curled up against me, her head resting on my bare chest, one leg thrown over mine. She was wearing nothing but a pair of black lace panties. Her skin was warm against mine, her breathing steady and content.My stomach dropped.I jerked upright so fast the room spun. Liana stirred, making a soft, sleepy sound as she reached for me again.“Roman…” she murmured, voice husky. “You’re awake.”I scrambled back, nearly falling off the bed, my heart hammering violently.“What the fuck, Liana?” My voice was hoarse, cracking with panic. “How did you get in here? What are you doi

OLD WOUNDSSYLVIA & JAMES – PRIVATE MEETINGThe private garden terrace at the Ashford estate was quiet except for the soft rustle of leaves in the evening breeze. Sylvia had chosen this spot deliberately. It was away from the main house, away from prying eyes, away from Richard. Just the two of them and the weight of years of unspoken history.James Carter arrived exactly on time.He looked older than she remembered, but still carried that quiet strength that had once made her heart race. His suit was simple, his posture straight, but his eyes held the same guarded pain she had seen at the gala.Sylvia stood as he approached, smoothing down her cream silk blouse.“James,” she said softly. “Thank you for coming.”He nodded once, his jaw tight.“You said we needed to talk. So let’s talk.”They sat across from each other at the small wrought-iron table. A bottle of wine and two glasses waited, untouched. Neither of them reached for it.Sylvia took a slow breath.“I owe you an apology,” s

THE MORNING AFTERNOELLE'S POVMorning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow over Roman’s bare back.We hadn’t spoken much since last night. After the desperate, emotional sex we had against the wall and on the couch, we had simply held each other, exhausted and raw, until we both fell asleep. No promises. No deep conversations. Just our bodies tangled together and our hearts still aching but clinging to each other.Now, Roman stirred beside me. His arm was draped heavily over my waist, his face buried in the crook of my neck. I felt his warm breath against my skin, steady at first, then deepening as he woke up.He didn’t say a word.And neither did I.His hand slowly slid down my side, tracing the curve of my hip with reverent fingers. I shivered under his touch. He pressed a soft, open-mouthed kiss to my neck, then another, trailing lower.I arched slightly, a quiet sigh escaping my lips.Roman shifted, moving down my body without breaking contact. His lip

THE WEIGHT OF BAD LUCKROMAN'S POVThe hospital smelled like antiseptic and despair.I sat in the hard plastic chair outside the emergency room, my elbows on my knees, head in my hands, staring at the white tiled floor. My shirt was stained with Liana’s blood. My hands still trembled from the moment I had grabbed the knife from her.The doctors had rushed her in twenty minutes ago. Deep cuts on her neck and palm. She had been crying, screaming my name, telling them I was the only one who could save her.I felt nothing but numbness and crushing guilt.How did my life become this?One moment I had finally received the news I had prayed for, the DNA test was negative. Noelle and I were not related. We were free. The next moment, everything exploded. Liana in my bed. The photos. The forced phone call to Noelle. And now this.I ran my bloody hands through my hair, leaving red streaks.Bad luck.That’s what it always came down to. That's what it always is.I had always been the unlucky one.

WHAT LOVE LOOKS LIKELIANA'S POVRoman fell asleep around two in the morning.I lay beside him quietly, staring at the white ceiling of the hospital while the city lights spilled through the curtains in pale streaks. His arm was draped across the chair, like even in sleep he was afraid I would disappear.Or maybe afraid I would hurt myself again.The thought made something bitter twist inside me.I turned my head slightly and studied his face in the room.God.I had missed him.Even now, after everything, after the screaming and the crying and the blood and humiliation, my chest still ached for him so badly it felt unbearable.Roman looked exhausted.Dark circles shadowed beneath his eyes, and faint lines of stress marked his forehead even while he slept. He looked older somehow. Heavier.Broken.A tiny pulse of guilt flickered through me.Just for a second.Then I remembered the way he had looked at her.Noelle.The girl who had taken my place without even trying.And the guilt vanis