บททั้งหมดของ A BILLIONAIRE'S PROMISE: บทที่ 81 - บทที่ 90

The warehouse felt smaller now that Isabella was gone.The shadows seemed less threatening, the silence less heavy. But the tension remained, coiled in the space between Ella and Sophia like a wire pulled too tight. One wrong move, one wrong word, and everything would snap.Clara was still unconscious in the chair, her head still hanging forward, her breathing still shallow. Ella wanted to go to her, wanted to untie the ropes and hold her mother and never let go. But Sophia stood between them, her body a barrier, her eyes unreadable."You said you wanted to talk," Ella said. "So talk."Sophia was quiet for a moment. Her gaze moved from Ella to Clara and back again, lingering on her mother's face."I used to dream about her," Sophia said. Her voice was soft, distant, like she was talking to herself. "When I was little. I'd imagine she was coming back. That she'd walk through the door and take me away from him.""Sophia—""But she

The waiting room was the same.Same plastic chairs, same fluorescent lights, same antiseptic smell that clung to everything. Ella had lost count of how many hours she'd spent in places like this, waiting for news, waiting for hope, waiting for someone she loved to survive. She'd thought she was done with hospitals. Thought she'd put that part of her life behind her.But here she was again. Sitting. Waiting. Praying.Sophia sat across from her, her hands cuffed to a police officer who'd been posted at the door. She'd asked to stay, and Ella hadn't had the energy to refuse. Maybe she didn't want to refuse. Maybe having her sister here, even under these circumstances, was better than being alone."He's going to be okay," Sophia said."You said that already.""I'll keep saying it until you believe me."Ella looked at her. The harsh light of the waiting room made Sophia look older, the shadows under her eyes deeper, the lines around her mo

The folder sat on the kitchen table like an unexploded bomb.Ella had been staring at it for hours, unable to look away, unable to touch it. The documents inside contained the truth about her father's death—not the version she'd accepted, not the story the doctors had told, but the real truth. Someone had killed him. Someone had taken his life, and she was going to find out who.Xander had made coffee, then let it go cold. He'd paced the kitchen, then sat beside her, then stood again. Now he was at the window, watching the ocean, giving her space to process.She appreciated that. She also wished he would hold her."I need to read it again.""Ella—""I need to understand."She pulled the folder toward her and opened it. The first page was a summary, the detective's notes typed in neat rows. *Toxicology report indicates presence of a chemical agent consistent with induced cardiac arrest. No signs of forced entry. No signs of

The name appeared on the third page of the document.Ella had been searching for hours, scrolling through files, cross-referencing names, trying to find a connection that would make sense of everything. Isabella and Sophia were pointing fingers at each other, each claiming the other was guilty. But neither of them had been in the apartment the night her father died. Neither of them had access to his medication.Someone else had been there. Someone else had done the killing.The name was familiar. Dr. Harrison Cole. Her father's physician. The man who'd been treating him for years, monitoring his health, prescribing the medications that were supposed to keep him alive.He'd been the one to sign the death certificate. To declare that William Reynolds had died of a heart attack. To close the case and move on.But he'd also been the one with access. The one who could tamper with the medication without anyone noticing. The one who knew exactly what dosa

The days after the funeral were the hardest.Ella didn't leave the house. Didn't get out of bed. Didn't do anything except stare at the ceiling and listen to the waves crash against the rocks. The world outside continued spinning, but she wasn't part of it. Couldn't be part of it.Xander stayed with her through most of it. He brought her food she didn't eat, water she didn't drink, tried to coax her into conversations she didn't want to have. He didn't push. Didn't demand. Just stayed.On the third day, she finally spoke."I can't do this.""Do what?""Live. Without her."Xander sat on the edge of the bed, taking her hand. "You can. You will.""How do you know?""Because you're stronger than you think."---The grief didn't fade, but it changed.Ella started getting out of bed. First for an hour, then two, then most of the day. She ate meals at the table instead of in bed. She sat on the porch and wa