Todos os capítulos de The Secret Billionaire I Married: Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

The house on Maple Street looked smaller than I remembered. The paint was peeling. The porch sagged. The grass had grown wild in the months since I had been gone. But the tree in the backyard still stood tall. An old oak. Wide branches. A trunk so thick two people could not wrap their arms around it.I used to climb that tree as a child. My mother would sit on the porch and watch me. She would smile and wave and tell me to be careful.She never told me she had buried something beneath it.Liam parked the car. We walked around the side of the house. The backyard was overgrown. Weeds up to my knees. The oak tree cast long shadows in the setting sun."A shovel," I said. "There is one in the shed."Liam found it. Rusted. Old. But it would work.I stood beneath the tree. The ground was hard. Packed down by years of rain and roots and time."Where do we dig?" Liam asked."My mother would have picked a spot she could see from the porch. Somewhere she could watch without being seen."I walked

Catherine's mansion looked different at night. The white walls glowed under the moonlight. The fountain in the driveway was still off. The windows were dark. But a single light burned on the second floor. Her bedroom.Liam parked at the gates. We walked the rest of the way. The gravel crunched under our feet. The wind carried the smell of salt water and something else. Something sweet. Perfume.Catherine was waiting at the front door. She wore a silk robe. Her hair was down. Her face was bare. She looked older without her makeup. More tired. More real."I knew you would come," she said."Then you know why.""Crosoften"She stepped aside. We walked in.The living room was dark. Catherine turned on a single lamp. The light cast long shadows on the walls."Charles called me," she said. "After you left. He told me about the vial. About the cure. About your mother's brother.""Did he also tell you that he wants me to find it for him?""He wants you to think you are helping him. But you are

The first week at the farmhouse was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that made you hear your own heartbeat. Liam spent most of his days on the phone with lawyers and accountants and board members. Sterling Industries was in chaos. Charles's death had left a vacuum, and everyone wanted to fill it.I spent my days in the garden. The soil was rich. Dark. Full of worms and roots and things that had been growing long before I was born. I planted tomatoes. Lettuce. Herbs I could not name. I did not know what I was doing. But it felt right. It felt like something my mother would have done.On the eighth day, a car pulled up the driveway.Black. Tinted windows. Expensive in a way that did not show off.Liam walked out of the house. His face was hard. His jaw was tight."Stay inside," he said."No.""Ellie.""I am done hiding."The car door opened.Catherine stepped out.She looked different. Thinner. Paler. Her hair was grey at the roots. Her eyes were red. She had been crying."Liam," she

Anna stayed in the guest room next to Catherine. She cried for an hour after Liam hugged her. Then she fell asleep. Exhaustion. Relief. Grief. All of it wrapped into one.Liam and I sat in the kitchen. The clock on the wall said three in the morning. Neither of us had slept."She looks like you," Liam said."She looks like my mother.""The same eyes. The same smile. The same way of holding herself like she is waiting for something bad to happen."I looked at the photograph Anna had brought. A picture of her mother. A woman I had never met. A woman who had loved Charles Sterling and paid the price."Her mother is dead," I said. "Cancer. Two years ago. Anna has been alone ever since.""Not anymore.""Do not make promises you cannot keep, Liam.""I am not promising anything. I am stating a fact. She is not alone. She has us.""Does she want us? She did not ask for any of this. She did not ask to be Charles's daughter. She did not ask to be your sister.""No one asks to be born. No one as

Three weeks passed.The farmhouse settled into a rhythm. Morning light through the kitchen windows. Coffee on the stove. Liam reading the news at the table. Me in the garden, dirt under my nails, sun on my back.We did not talk about Charles. We did not talk about the company. We did not talk about the past.We just lived.Then the letter came.No stamp. No return address. Slid under the front door while we slept.I found it at dawn. The envelope was thick. Cream colored. My name on the front in handwriting I knew too well.My mother's handwriting.But my mother was dead.Liam came up behind me. Barefoot. Hair messy. Rubbing sleep from his eyes."What is that?""I do not know.""Open it."I could not. My hands would not move.Liam took the envelope. Sliced it open with his finger. Pulled out the pages inside.He read them first. His face went pale."You need to sit down.""Just tell me.""Sit down, Ellie."I sat on the porch steps. The wood was cold. The sun was not up yet.Liam sat n