Todos los capítulos de The Billionaire Regretted Losing His Invisible Wife: Capítulo 181 - Capítulo 190

Mia's POVThe package arrived on an ordinary Tuesday morning. No return address, just my name and address printed in neat block letters that bore no distinguishing characteristics. The delivery man had already disappeared down the hallway by the time I opened the door, summoned by the soft knock."Who was that?" Mom called."Delivery," I replied, turning the padded manila envelope over in my hands."What did you order?" She appeared in the doorway, a dish towel slung over one shoulder."Nothing." I held up the package. I carefully tore along the sealed edge.A leather-bound journal, its cover worn at the corners, the pages slightly yellowed with age. The leather was soft, as if it had been handled often, and a delicate ribbon marker protruded from between the pages. There was no note accompanying it, nothing to indicate who had sent it or why."What is it?" Mom asked, peering over my shoulder.I opened the cover carefully, looking for an inscription or any identifying information. On

Mia's POVThe brisk winter air felt refreshing against my face as Thomas and I strolled through Madison Square Park. Gas trotted happily ahead of us, his white fur bright against the dormant winter grass. I placed a hand on my lower back, trying to ease the persistent ache that had become my constant companion in these final weeks of pregnancy."Are you comfortable?" Thomas asked, his eyes filled with concern. "We can head back if you're getting tired.""I'm fine," I assured him, grateful for his thoughtfulness. "This was a good idea. I needed to get out of that apartment."Thomas had shown up at my door unexpectedly, bearing Mediterranean food and a gentle insistence that fresh air would do me good. After days cooped up with nothing but my troubled thoughts for company, I'd finally relented. My mother was out at another of her mysterious "appointments," and the walls had been closing in on me."I'm glad you agreed to come," Thomas said, matching his pace to my ungainly waddle. "You s

Kyle's POVThe photograph lay on my desk like an accusation. Thomas Wallace, his face too close to Mia's, his hand resting on the small of her back as they walked through the children's center construction site. Her smile—that rare, genuine expression I'd seen directed at me so infrequently during our marriage—illuminated her face as she looked up at him.I slammed my fist against the mahogany desktop, sending a cascade of reports scattering to the floor. The security team I'd assigned to protect her had delivered these images this morning, and each one felt like a personal betrayal. Logically, I knew I had no right to these feelings. We were divorced. I had forfeited any claim on her emotions long ago.Logic, however, did nothing to quell the rage coursing through me.I paced the length of my corner office, the New York skyline a blur beyond the windows. Something primitive and possessive clawed at my insides. The thought of Thomas, for god's sake, stepping into the life I had ruined

Mia's POVWrong. All wrong.I sat on the sofa, staring at the business card Lieutenant Walsh had left behind. The edges were crisp, the printing precise. Everything about it suggested order, procedure, systems functioning as they should.But nothing about Richard's death felt orderly or procedural."It doesn't make sense, Gas," I whispered. "Not one bit."My father was many things. He was manipulative, selfish, cruel when it suited him. But he had never struck me as suicidal. Quite the opposite. Richard Williams had been a survivor, clinging to advantage and opportunity with relentless determination. Even in prison, facing disgrace and a lengthy sentence, he had been looking for leverage.Prison suicides. The phrase felt scripted, a convenient explanation for inconvenient deaths. Epstein. McAfee. People who knew too many secrets suddenly hanging themselves in their cells. Guards conveniently absent. Surveillance cameras mysteriously malfunctioning.I pushed myself up from the sofa wit

Kyle's POVThree weeks in Paris, and I was no closer to exonerating my father than when I'd arrived.If anything, I'd only uncovered more sins.The file on my desk contained photographs, financial records, Morton's call interrupted my thoughts."Morton," I answered, my voice rough from lack of sleep."Kyle," he replied. "There's been a development. Richard Williams is dead."I moved away from the window, alert. "How?""Officially? Suicide. He was found hanging in his cell early this morning.""And unofficially?"Morton's slight hesitation told me everything I needed to know. "The timing is... concerning. Especially given certain conversations he had recently.""With whom?" I demanded, though I already suspected the answer."Mia. He requested to meet with her several days ago."My hand tightened around the phone. "What did he want?""I'm not entirely sure," Morton admitted. "But according to Scarlett, it had something to do with Diana Porter.""Did he tell her anything specific?""If h