All Chapters of The Billionaire’s Blood Debt: Ruined by My Enemy: Chapter 191 - Chapter 200

--- Elowen's POV It started with the press of his mouth against mine, soft at first, almost testing. Rain still clung to his hair from the courtyard, cold droplets sliding onto my cheek when he leaned in. I tasted the storm on him—wet wool, night air, and something warmer that was purely him. My hands found the front of his sweater, fingers curling into the soft knit. He framed my face with both palms, thumbs brushing the corners of my mouth while he kissed me deeper. There was no rush yet, only a slow, deliberate claiming. His lips moved over mine with quiet certainty, coaxing them open, drawing a soft sound from my throat that made him smile against me. That private smile sent heat spiraling low in my stomach. “Elowen,” he murmured, the name roughened by breath. “Tell me if this is too much.” I shook my head, rising onto my toes. “It isn’t.

--- Elowen's POV Two full days passed without a single sound from across the courtyard. No sudden knocks on the conservatory door. No uninvited visits with antique chessboards. Not even a shadow moving behind the second-floor linen drapes of the opposite stone house. By the second afternoon, the silence in the townhouse had turned thick and heavy. I spent the morning alone. Marie had a scheduled day off to visit her daughter in Versailles, leaving me with explicit instructions to keep to my light floor stretches and not push my luck on the standing bars without supervision. I kept my promise, but sitting on the sofa with a mug of herbal tea, my eyes kept wandering back to the dark windowpanes facing the garden. A bitter, restless heat slowly coiled in my chest. Forty-eight hours. After everything he had pulled—after

--- Elowen's POV The ride back across the 7th Arrondissement took less than ten minutes, but every second inside the dark cabin of the car stretched into an eternity. Neither of us spoke. Killian sat with his arm resting against the doorframe, his gaze fixed rigidly on the passing streetlamps of Rue de Grenelle. His jaw was locked tight, his profile carved out of shadow and hard marble. Beside him, I stared straight ahead at the driver's partition, my hands folded tightly over my lap to hide the tremor in my fingers. When the car pulled up to the heavy timber gates of number forty-two, the driver jumped out to lower the rear ramp. Killian stepped out into the damp night air first. He didn't wait for the driver to assist me. In silence, he guided my transport chair out of the vehicle and up the smooth stone threshold into the entryway. His movements were smooth, efficient, and precise

--- Elowen's POVThree more weeks passed in Paris, bringing steady, quiet progress every single day.By early December, the cold winter air had fully settled over the city. Frost covered the high glass windows of the conservatory each morning, and the trees in the courtyard were completely bare. But inside the townhouse on Rue de l'Université, my life no longer revolved around a wheelchair.The transport chair was officially folded up and stored inside the hallway closet.With Marie’s constant guidance and strict daily exercises, my core and lower back muscles had grown strong enough to support my weight. My body felt grounded again. I no longer felt the terrifying sensation that my spine might give out beneath me. Dr. Navarro flew in from Spain for one final check-up, reviewing my digital scans and testing my leg reflexes before giving me his full approval.I still wore a lightweight, low-profile supportive brace under my clothes to protect my lower spine, and I relied on a sleek mah

--- Elowen's POV I sat up slightly against the pillows, looking at the glowing screen of my phone. The name Diego continued to flash in the center of the display, buzzing softly against the wooden surface of the nightstand. For a brief second, I hesitated, wondering if picking up the phone late at night was a good idea. But I knew that leaving it unanswered would only keep unsaid thoughts hanging in the air. I took a quiet breath, swiped the screen, and placed the phone to my ear. "Hello?" I said softly into the receiver. There was a moment of complete silence on the line. I could hear the faint, uneven sound of his breathing over the phone before he finally spoke. "Elowen?" Diego's voice came through, sounding hesitant, low, and visibly nervous. "I'm... I'm so sorry for calling you this late. I know it's past ten o'clock."