Semua Bab THE BILLIONAIRE'S BURIED TWIN : Bab 1 - Bab 10

Elara didn't sleep.After the bathroom, after the way he'd looked at her like she'd crawled out of a grave, she'd been escorted to a guest room by a silent security guard. The door had locked behind her. She'd checked twice.The room was beautiful. Soft gray walls. A bed big enough for four people. Windows that looked out over a city that glittered like it was mocking her. She sat on the edge of the mattress and stared at the locked door until dawn bled through the curtains.No one came.She didn't have her phone. Her bag was still in the service hallway. Her roommate would be wondering where she was. Rent was due in three days now.None of that mattered anymore.She was trapped in a billionaire's penthouse because she had a birthmark that matched his dead wife's.The lock clicked.Elara stood up fast, heart slamming. The door opened and a woman stepped in. She is older and severe. Her hair pulled back so tight it stretched her face. She wore a dress that cost more than Elara's entire

Elara woke to sunlight streaming through windows she didn't recognize.For a disoriented moment, she thought she was back in her cramped apartment, that the silk sheets were a dream, that the ache between her thighs was from a long shift scrubbing floors. Then she shifted, and her body reminded her. Everywhere. The tenderness. The faint soreness deep inside. The memory of his weight pressing her into the mattress.She sat up slowly. The room was beautiful. Cream walls. A chandelier. A dressing table covered in bottles and brushes that smelled like jasmine and money.She was sleeping in a dead woman's bed. Wearing a dead woman's life. And last night, she'd let a man who owned her use her body until she shattered beneath him.I should hate myself.She waited for the shame to arrive. It didn't. Instead, she felt... strange. Full. Like something hungry inside her had been fed for the first time in years. Not just the sex—though that had been unlike anything her body had ever known. It was

After Alexander left, she lay in the tangled sheets, her body still humming from what he'd done to her. Twice. He'd taken her twice, and both times she'd shattered for him like she was made to be broken.I'm getting used to this.The thought should have horrified her. Instead, it settled into her bones like something inevitable. She was trapped in a gilded cage, wearing a dead woman's name, and the man who owned her was slowly becoming the only thing that made her feel alive.But beneath the exhaustion, beneath the shameful satisfaction still pulsing between her thighs, a colder thought surfaced.Viktor. The name from Isabella's journal. Trust no one but Viktor. The one person her dead sister had trusted in a house full of enemies.She didn't know who he was. She didn't know how to find him. And right now, wrapped in silk sheets with the scent of Alexander still on her skin, she wasn't sure she wanted to.I have food. I have warmth. I have a bed that doesn't smell like mold and someon

The first thing she noticed was the weight.An arm draped across her waist. It was heavy and warm. The kind of weight that had been there for hours, not minutes. She opened her eyes to gray morning light and found herself pressed against Alexander's chest, her cheek on his bare shoulder, her legs tangled with his.He was still asleep.She'd never seen him sleep before. He was always the one leaving—rolling out of bed, pulling on his shirt, disappearing before she could catch her breath. But today, he was still here. His face was softer in sleep. The lines around his mouth had smoothed. The permanent tension in his jaw had gone slack.He stayed. Why?He had his own room his own bed. A master suite twice the size of this one, with sheets she'd never even seen. He didn't need to be here.Her movement must have stirred him. His eyes opened slowly, unfocused at first, then sharpening as they landed on her face."You're staring.""I'm trying to figure out why you're in my bed."He shrugged,

Mrs. Windsor led him to the library instead."Ma'am thought you'd prefer somewhere more private," she said. "She'll join you shortly."Viktor nodded and stepped inside. He didn't sit. He stood by the mantel, hands in his pockets, eyes on the door.When Elara walked in, he straightened immediately."Isabella."He said the name like a man who'd been holding his breath for six months and was finally allowed to exhale. His shoulders dropped. His face softened. He crossed the room in three long strides, and before Elara could react, he'd pulled her into a rough embrace."You're alive." His voice was muffled against her hair. "God, you're actually alive. I didn't believe it. When I heard you were back, I thought it was a rumor, a trick but you're here."She let herself be held. What else could she do? This man had loved Isabella maybe not the way Alexander did, but enough. Enough to hold her like she was the only solid thing in a world that had gone to pieces.He pulled back, his hands on h