All Chapters of Her Forbidden Affair: The Regret of the Billionaire Husband: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Richard's POV"My God," she said, slowly shaking her head, as if physically trying to reject the words she'd just heard."No. No, no, no, no," she murmured. Then she looked up at me abruptly. "Are you sure?""Yes," I replied without hesitation. My voice sounded more certain than I actually was. "I'm sure."She let out a gasp, half laughter, half panic. "Then you need to stay away from her, damn it," she said sharply."Immediately. And we need to find a way to cover this up. For good."My heart skipped a beat, then stopped. I stared at her. "Hide this?" I repeated, incredulous. "Vanessa, I don't even see how that's possible." Alexander knows she was with me.”Her eyes widened violently. “What?”“I said he knows she was with me,” I repeated. “Not… everything. But he knows she was on my jet.”Vanessa screamed. She really screamed.“What do you mean by ‘he knows’?” she asked, pacing back and forth, a hand in her hair. “Are you crazy?”I rubbed my temples. “Judging by his behavior, I don’

Alexander's POVI slowly swirled the wine in my glass, watching the deep red liquid rise along the crystal before cascading back down. Expensive. Aged. Perfectly controlled.Like everything in this house was supposed to be.My eyes fell on the monitor mounted on the wall.The security camera footage showed Susan sitting on the edge of the bed in the room where we had locked her.Her hands were carefully placed on her knees. Her back was straight. Her face impassive.I frowned, raised the glass to my lips, and took a slow sip.She should be crying now. Shaking. Pacing. Screaming. Begging.Usually, it was like that. But she wasn't doing anything.She was just… sitting there. As if waiting.A smile played at the corner of my lips. The only person who could have helped her was gone. She had abandoned her as if nothing had happened. And yet, here she was, breathing steadily, her gaze distant but fixed.Why on earth are you staying so calm?"You're staring at the screen."Rebecca's voice r

Susan's Point of ViewThe silence in the room was heavy.Not peaceful. Never peaceful. Just… empty.Sitting on the edge of the bed, knees drawn up to my chest, I stared into space, absorbed by a single person.Richard.I hadn't eaten. Or drunk.My body felt light, hollow, as if it were slowly dissolving into itself, but I welcomed the sensation.Hunger was easier to manage than regret.And regret was ever-present.I regretted not having told him the truth sooner. Not having revealed my real name. Not having told him I was married. Not having confessed the complexity of my life.He, too, had hidden his identity, but it was… different. Mine was far more complicated.The only good thing that had happened to me in years was Richard Morrison. His calm voice. His honest gaze. The way he looked at me, as if I were a human being, not an object. Not a burden. Not something to control.Alexander wouldn't ruin that. He wouldn't take it away from me either.The sound of the door opening pulled m

Susan's POVA warm light flooded the room, revealing a space that looked nothing like an office: no desk, no books, no comfort.Just a chair in the center and another opposite it."Sit down," one of the men ordered.I complied.The door closed behind me with a slow, deliberate sound.And then I understood. This wasn't a meeting.It was an interrogation.Gerald suddenly appeared in the corner.He was wearing a thick white apron, like the ones doctors wear in old police documentaries, except this one was stained with dried and fresh blood in places.Thick gloves covered his hands, stiff from use, his fingers discolored as if they had forgotten what it was like to be clean.My body froze. Instinctively, my hands clasped tightly in front of me, my fingers trembling despite my efforts to still them.I tried to maintain a steady breathing rhythm. Showing my fear here would have been a mistake. I felt it deep inside.Gerald closed the door behind him and locked it.The sound echoed.He didn

Gerald's Point of ViewI wash my hands until the water runs clear.Blood has a nasty habit of clinging, even when you think it's gone.It hides in the folds of skin, under nails, in places you only notice later.I dry my hands slowly, carefully, then take off my gloves and throw them in the trash.Control returns with routine. Susan is scared.I saw it in the way her shoulders tensed, in the way her eyes darted around before she forced them to focus.She tried to be brave. I respect that. Fear that resists is far more interesting than fear that begs.I didn't threaten her for the thrill of it. Pain is brutal. Fear, on the other hand, lingers.Disappear like a corpse buried two meters underground.I really meant it. My phone vibrates on the counter.It was a message about someone I consider a shadow."She asked if you were finished."I stare at the screen longer than necessary.She doesn't give me orders. She never has. She phrases everything as a suggestion, a concern, simple curiosi