All Chapters of A BABY FOR THE BILLIONAIRE : Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

By the time Max and I returned to the estate late that evening, the sky had turned into deep shade of purple and gold over the tall hills. The news programs on television had completely changed their tone from earlier this morning. Video clips of me standing up to Jeffrey outside the courthouse were going viral on every social media app. Thousands of people online were praising me for speaking the truth, and Jeffrey's personal reputation was completely destroyed. The stock prices for Vance Enterprises had already jumped back up even higher than they were before the rumors started.I sat on the soft plush couch in our main living room, sipping a warm cup of sweet milk. Little Daisy was fast asleep upstairs in her nursery, exhausted after spending the afternoon playing in the garden with Rochelle.Max walked down the grand staircase, wearing comfortable dark sweatpants and a simple black t-shirt. He looked much more relaxed now that the heavy work for the day was finished. He sat right

I thought the nightmare with Jeffrey was finally over after we humiliated him on the courthouse steps, but life with a billionaire never stays quiet for long. Max and I had just walked back into the grand hallway of our estate, holding hands, when Logan sprinted toward us with a pale face. He looked like he had just seen a ghost."Max, Mrs. Crane, you need to see this right now," Logan said, his voice trembling slightly. He held up a black tablet, displaying a live news broadcast. My heart did a sudden, violent flip in my chest. The screen showed Jeffrey Homer, but he was not being carried away in handcuffs like we expected. He was sitting inside a lavish private office, smirking right at the camera."What is the meaning of this, Logan?" Max demanded, his deep voice turning ice-cold in a split second. "The federal police were supposed to arrest Jeffrey an hour ago for washing my mother’s illegal money."Logan swallowed hard. "He posted a ten-million-dollar bail before the handcuffs ev

The golden sunlight of the Italian morning spilled through the arched glass doors of our private villa in Lake Como, painting the polished marble floors in shades of warm amber. The air smelled heavenly, filled with the scent of blooming jasmine, fresh sea salt, and ripe lemons from the garden below. I stood in front of the full-length mirror in the bridal suite, wearing my white silk wedding gown. The smooth fabric clung perfectly to my waist before flowing down into a soft, glowing train.Rochelle stood right behind me, gently placing the long sheer veil over my dark hair. Her hands were shaking slightly, and her eyes were bright with unshed tears."I promised myself I wouldn't cry before the music started," Rochelle said with a tearful laugh, dabbing her eyes with a tiny lace handkerchief. "But look at you, Leslie. You look like a absolute queen. If someone told me a year ago that you would be marrying the most eligible billionaire in America in a Tuscan castle, I would have though

Max moved with instantaneous, predatory speed. Before Rose could take a second step into the foyer, his massive, athletic body completely interposed itself between his mother and me. His hands instantly curled into tight, white-knuckled fists at his sides, the thick veins bulging violently along his forearms and straining the fabric of his shirt. "Get out of my house before I have my men drag you out by your hair and throw you back into a federal hole where you belong," Max roared, his voice vibrating with such unadulterated fury that it physically shook the crystal chandelier hanging from the vaulted ceiling above us.Rose let out a low, silvery, deeply mocking laugh that sent icy shivers straight down my spine. She stepped forward again, entirely unfazed by Max’s terrifying display of rage, radiating an aura of supreme, psychopathic confidence. "Oh, Maxie, you always were far too dramatic for your own good," she purred, tilting her chin up. "But you don’t hold the cards anymore, my

The morning sun broke over Manhattan with a blinding, unapologetic brilliance, casting long golden shafts of light across the polished oak floors of our master bedroom. For the first time in weeks, the heavy curtains were pulled wide open, letting the crisp autumn air flood the room. I stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, holding a steaming mug of black coffee, watching the distant skyline of the city as it hummed with restless, relentless energy.Little Daisy was fast asleep in her crib down the hall, safely tucked under her pink quilt, watched over by a newly vetted, highly specialized security detail that Max personally approved. The nightmare of Rose’s escape felt like a distant, faded memory, yet the physical and emotional exhaustion of it lingered deep in my bones.The bedroom door clicked open softly, and Max walked in. He was already dressed in a bespoke charcoal-grey three-piece suit that fit his broad, athletic frame with razor-sharp precision. His white shirt was unbutton