All Chapters of The Billionaire’s Abandoned Wife : Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

“She’s here.” Marcus said it the moment he stepped into the hospital waiting room, exhaustion and pure joy tangled together in his expression so completely that Bianca felt her own eyes fill before he’d said another word. “Is she okay? Is Amara okay?” Ethan asked, already standing, Zoe gripping his hand tightly beside him. “Both perfect,” Marcus said, voice thick. “Small, because of the early arrival, but strong. The doctors are calling her a healthy preemie, which apparently is a real medical category and not just something people say to make you feel better.” Relief flooded through the small waiting room, Kemi’s hand finding Bianca’s, both of them squeezing tight. “Can we see her?” Zoe asked, practically vibrating with barely contained excitement. “In a few minutes,” Marcus said, kneeling down to her level with the easy warmth he’d developed with her these past months. “Amara wants to introduce you properly. She specifically requested you be one of the first, actually.” “Me?”

“Three. Actual foundations, requesting the framework by name.” Bianca said it out loud to Ethan that evening, still slightly disbelieving as she reread Rosalind’s message for the third time, laptop open on the kitchen table between them. “That’s remarkable,” Ethan said, genuine pride crossing his face. “Which ones?” “A children’s literacy foundation in the Midwest. A medical research charity out west. And,” Bianca paused, something warm catching in her throat, “the same rival charity Victor tried to merge us with. Apparently even they want in, now that the actual scandal’s resolved and they’ve seen what real transparency structures look like in practice.” Ethan laughed, something genuinely delighted in the sound. “There’s a particular justice in that. The organization someone tried to use against us now wants to learn from the exact system that stopped him.” “I keep thinking about how strange this year has been,” Bianca admitted. “A year ago I was signing custody documents and hid

“Her name is Beatrice Okonkwo. She runs a literary foundation that funds writing programs for kids in underserved schools.” Adaeze relayed the details over coffee the following morning, clearly delighted with herself despite Bianca’s mild exasperation at being volunteered for a professional introduction without warning. “Mum, you can’t just tell people I’ll consult for them without asking me first.” “I didn’t tell her you would,” Adaeze said primly. “I told her you might be interested in discussing it. There’s a difference.” “There’s barely a difference.” “There’s enough of one,” Adaeze said, entirely unbothered. “Besides, I looked into her foundation before mentioning anything. It’s legitimate. Good reputation, actually meaningful work, no scandals lurking in the background waiting to explode. I wouldn’t have connected you to something messy.” Bianca sighed, though genuine curiosity was already building beneath her mild frustration. “What exactly does she need help with?” “Appa

“She’s already here. She brought seven dresses, not six.” Kemi hissed it the moment Bianca walked through the boutique’s front door, eyes wide with barely contained panic, gesturing frantically toward the back fitting room where Adaeze’s voice carried clearly through the thin partition wall. “Seven? She said six in the text.” “She lied,” Kemi said. “Strategically, I assume, so I wouldn’t brace properly.” Bianca bit back a laugh, following her sister toward the fitting area where Adaeze stood surrounded by an impressive array of gowns, each one apparently representing a different theory about what Kemi’s wedding aesthetic should actually be. “Mum, we already chose the dress,” Kemi said, exasperation warring with obvious affection. “You chose a dress,” Adaeze corrected. “I simply want you to see all your options before committing permanently to something you might regret.” “I’m not going to regret it. I’ve tried it on four times already.” “Trying something on four times isn’t the

“Say that again. Slowly.” Bianca sat frozen at her kitchen table, Priya’s message still glowing on her phone screen, Ethan leaning over her shoulder to read it a second time. “The DA’s office wants to teach your framework as standard training,” Ethan said, something disbelieving warming his voice. “Bianca, that’s not just recognition. That’s institutional adoption.” “I don’t think I fully understand what that means yet,” Bianca admitted, still staring at the screen like it might rearrange itself into something less overwhelming. “It means every new nonprofit governance board in this state is going to learn what you built,” Ethan said, sitting down across from her, something proud and amazed crossing his face. “It means the next Ingrid, the next Victor, gets caught faster, because organizations will already have the structures you designed in place before crisis ever has a chance to take root.” Bianca sat with that, something enormous settling slowly into her chest. “I keep thinkin