All Chapters of Size-Plus Girl Owned By Three Heirs: Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

The morning sunlight lazily slipped through the gaps between the thick velvet curtains of the main study in the Blackthorne Mansion, reflecting the fine dust particles floating through the heavy air. Behind the large mahogany desk that usually radiated an aura of absolute power, Lucien sat with a straight yet rigid posture. Spread across its surface was a thick black leather folder containing the official resignation documents from his position as CEO of Blackthorne Group—a drastic decision he had made throughout the night after keeping his vow beneath the pouring rain.The study door suddenly swung open without a polite knock. Evander and Azriel stepped inside simultaneously, both breathing heavily, bringing with them a thick aura of hostility and distrust.Evander immediately slammed both palms onto the surface of the desk, glaring fiercely at the head of the family with eyes blazing with anger.“What do you think this is, Lucien?!” Evander snapped, his voice trembling violently as

One week.Seven full days during which Mansion Blackthorne felt like a stone monument from a bygone era that had lost its heartbeat. On the second floor of the western wing, Isolde was still lying beneath her thick blanket, staring blankly at the dimly lit ceiling of her room. There had been no significant change from the previous days; her body looked increasingly fragile, her cheeks had grown gaunt, and faint dark circles framed the lower part of her eyes, which had lost their spark of life.Outside her bedroom door, a plate of warm soup and a slice of strawberry mille-feuille cake delivered by the servant since noon had now grown completely cold, left untouched and entirely intact.Isolde drew a deep breath, but all she inhaled was empty air that felt suffocating in her chest. Her mind could not let go of the one thing that continued to haunt her day and night: Lucien’s departure. It had been a full week since the mature man had disappeared from this mansion, isolating himself in h

The roar of a luxury car engine entering the front courtyard of Blackthorne Mansion shattered the silence of the early morning. Inside the magnificent main living room, Evander and Azriel stepped inside, breathing heavily, their clothes visibly disheveled. Their nighttime journey to the northern harbor had left traces of tension still etched across the faces of the two young men.They had just met Lucien—confirming that the mature man had truly isolated himself in a secluded penthouse and had no intention of returning to the family's circle of power. However, instead of feeling relieved that their uncle's dominance had completely crumbled, Evander and Azriel's minds were filled with another, far more pressing concern: the girl on the second floor who was slowly destroying herself in silence.Without wasting any time, Evander immediately climbed the stairs one by one in haste. Azriel followed behind him, supporting himself with his wooden cane, as the two young men hurried down the cor

 The roar of a black sedan's engine thundered loudly as it tore through the streets of Capital City, still wet from the remnants of the morning dew. Inside the stuffy cabin, Evander and Azriel sat side by side without saying a word. The tension between the two young men was palpable, clearly etched into their hardened jaws and fists gripping their respective knees. They had no other choice. Isolde's worsening condition at the mansion had completely crushed the remnants of their ego. The car finally pulled into the basement of the luxurious penthouse building where Lucien had been isolating himself for the past week. Without wasting any time, Evander and Azriel immediately got out of the vehicle and hurried toward the private elevator that would take them directly to the top floor. Ding. The elevator doors opened wide, revealing a silent corridor clad in black marble. Without knocking, Evander immediately pre

  The sound of heavy footsteps mixed with harsh shouts suddenly tore through the silence of the night on the second floor of Mansion Blackthorne. Before Lucien, Evander, and Azriel could fully process the guard’s warning, the sharp crack of a gunshot muffled by a silencer—ptak!—struck the plaster wall of the corridor, scattering white dust fragments right beside Azriel’s head. “Duck!” Lucien barked in a split second. Without warning, the predator instincts that had been ingrained in the three men for decades in the underworld immediately took over. Lucien lunged forward, shoving Isolde’s body down behind the sturdy corner wall of the corridor for cover. Evander and Azriel moved with lightning speed, lowering their bodies while drawing the semi-automatic firearms concealed beneath their respective jackets. At the end of the northern corridor, three burly