Todos os capítulos de My Billionaire's Ex Husband's Secret Heir: Capítulo 31 - Capítulo 40

He gave a polite laugh, not entirely sure if he was allowed to.He slid a thin folder through the document slot in the gate. The paper was thick. A small logo in the upper corner was printed in matte black.I opened to the first page.NOTICE OF TEMPORARY SECURITY ACTIVATION AND EXTERIOR PRIVACY LIGHTINGThe address of the mansion below.Today’s date.Activation time: tonight, 7:00 PM.Temporary staff access.Exterior perimeter sweep.Lighting calibration.Camera alignment.Privacy compliance.Noise impact minimal.My eyes moved down to the ownership section.OWNER REPRESENTATIVE: Rowan BlackwoodThe name sounded like the kind of man who showed up at charity galas, bought half the city, then claimed he hated attention while possessing aggressively sharp cheekbones.Below it was the entity name.BELLADONNA COASTAL TRUST.“Who’s Rowan Blackwood?” I asked without looking up.Elliot immediately looked pleased to finally have something he was allowed to talk about. “Mr. Blackwood is the pri

Counsel pulled over a blank sheet and started taking notes. “I can prepare a production protocol. Mandatory corporate records will be provided. Personal information will be redacted. No voluntary supplementation. Any follow-up requests have to be submitted in writing and state the governance basis.”“And don’t send one giant file.”Athena looked at me. “Why?”“Because I don’t want Rafael sitting comfortably in his office with one pretty PDF titled How My Ex-Wife Built a Company While Secretly Pregnant for Dummies.”Nina looked down, her shoulders moving.I turned to her. “Are you laughing?”“No.”“You’re bad at lying.”“I learned from the corporate environment.”Counsel pressed his lips together, clearly choosing professionalism.Athena didn’t even bother hiding her small smile. “The files will be separated by category.”“Good.”“Accounting.”“Separate.”“Lease.”“Separate.”“Payroll.”“Separate and redacted.”“Incorporation.”“Send it in an envelope with a curse on it.”“Sasha.”“Fin

I showered after breakfast, traded the robe for a simple black knit dress that stopped below my knees, left my hair loose after a quick blow-dry, then finally got a chance to drink my coffee without a vehicle entering the pantry.At eight-twenty, the intercom buzzed.I was answering Nina’s email at the island.Gabriella was upstairs helping Max get dressed because, according to the report coming from the ceiling, navy chinos were “too businessman,” and he wanted to wear his monster truck shorts even though the morning air was still cold.I glanced at the security screen and immediately stopped moving, because the man standing near the pedestrian gate was very clearly not Elliot.I lowered my phone slowly and looked at him more closely. No clipboard in his hand, no navy suit far too polished for this hour, and most suspiciously, none of Elliot’s property-liaison smile, the kind that always looked like it had been trained since elementary school to make rich people feel as though all th

Four days after Rowan Blackwood officially moved into Belladonna, Noelle Jamesson decided my life wasn’t complicated enough and sent me three messages in a row before eight in the morning.Noelle: [You’re coming tonight.]I read the message while standing at the kitchen island, one hand holding my coffee while the other tried to rescue a piece of toast from Max before he smeared strawberry jam onto the part that should still legally qualify as a table.Me: [Good morning to you too.]Noelle: [Annual dinner LA Architecture Foundation.]Noelle: [Don’t say no.]I looked at the last message, then at Max, who was staring at me with a face far too innocent for someone who had just hidden half a piece of toast under his plate.“Why is your toast under there?”“He’s resting.”“Under the plate?”“He’s tired.”I pulled at his plate.Max immediately put both hands on top of it. “Mami.”“Maxime.”“That’s private toast.”I stared at him.He stared back at me with big blue eyes beneath black bangs t

“Max has some pretty strong opinions about robots,” Rowan continued, and I watched him enthusiastically lead my son straight toward the ticking bomb beside me.He was looking at Noelle, completely unaware that the one name he’d just said had made me want to pull the entire tablecloth off and end this dinner as a catering accident.Noelle laughed. “How old is he again?”“Four,” I answered, because letting Rowan answer that question would make me look like a mother who had suddenly lost the ability to speak.“Four?” Noelle looked at Rowan. “And you’ve already discussed R&D?”“He started it,” Rowan said.“Of course he started it,” I said.Rowan glanced at me briefly, then turned back to Noelle. “I came over to discuss the lighting. He wanted to know if my house had robots.”“And?” Noelle asked.“Sadly, mostly just lawyers.”Noelle laughed harder.I smiled along.Great. Just great. Everyone was enjoying a story about my son while I sat here calculating how much information could come out