Todos los capítulos de The Billionaire Regretted Losing His Invisible Wife: Capítulo 191 - Capítulo 200

Kyle's POV"Carol," I whispered, the name unfamiliar yet devastating in its implications. "Her daughter's name was Carol?"Dubois nodded slowly, his weathered face impassive. "That's all I know. Diana was always very protective of her daughter's identity, even before the threats began. The girl wasn't at the lake house when Diana died. I assumed she was left with relatives or friends."I stared at the yellowed envelope in my hands, the name "Carol" written across it in elegant script."Did anyone else know about the child?" I asked."If they did, they never spoke of it officially." Dubois sipped his tea, his gaze fixed on some point beyond my shoulder. "Your father was... thorough in removing traces of Diana's personal life from the record. Medical files disappeared. Former colleagues suddenly couldn't recall certain details. It was as if parts of her existed only in memory."So if all these were true. My father had systematically erased a woman's existence and possibly orchestrated h

Mia's POVI stared at the photograph, my brain struggling to process what I was seeing. The woman in the picture looked exactly like Diana Porter. But the timeline didn't make sense. If Diana Porter had only given birth to a daughter, how could she be the mother of Nate and his brother?"Yiayia," I began hesitantly, "did Thea ever use another name? Perhaps for work or... before she married?"Yiayia tilted her head, considering the question. "No, always Thea. Short for Dorothea." She smiled fondly at the photograph. "My beautiful Dorothea."Not Diana, then.I thought about how to say this." Yiayia, did Thea ever mention having a sister?Yiayia's eyes narrowed slightly. I added, "You may not believe it, but I've seen someone who looks exactly like Thea. Someone from many years ago. "Yiayia's weathered hands stilled on the table. She studied my face intently, and her shoulders relaxed slightly.She reached out and stroked my cheek gently, her palm warm against my skin. "You have honest e

Mia's POVThrough my tears, I recognized the man—it was Nate.I hadn't seen him in so long, and he seemed different from the Nate I remembered. Seemed thiner, taller. His usually compassionate features were hardened.My heart surged with relief and confusion. Had he come to save me?"Uncle Charles, don't kill her," Nate said, his voice steady but urgent.Uncle Charles? I blinked in confusion, my mind struggling to process this new information as it tried to fit the pieces together.The man named Charles turned to face me, sizing me up through the rim of his glass. "Wasn't that your decision? You lost Carol, and now you want Alexander Branson and Kyle Branson to lose their wives too. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth."My head was about to explode. The fragments suddenly aligned, and I finally understood the truth.Diana's daughter was Carol.Carol was Nate's wife.Nate's expression was filled with sorrow. He looked at me, then back at Charles, his posture tense with indecision.C

Kyle's POVMia.She was alive.The maintenance door opened into a utility closet adjacent to the main room. Through a narrow ventilation grille, I could see part of the penthouse interior—plush furnishings, expensive artwork. A man's voice continued speaking, the tone cultured and cold."...the Branson bloodline ends today."I'd heard enough.The door burst open under my shoulder, splinters flying as the reinforced wood gave way. The scene unfolded before me with crystal clarity—Mia, bound and terrified. Charles Porter, gun raised. Nate Pierce, lunging forward too late.My first shot took Porter in the shoulder, spinning him away from Mia. The second caught him in the upper chest, not immediately fatal but debilitating.Our eyes locked across the room—his filled with shock and hatred, mine with the cold certainty of a man protecting what was his."Kyle," Mia gasped, her voice breaking through the ringing in my ears.Porter recovered with surprising speed, raising his weapon toward me

Kyle's POVPain. Unimaginable pain.My consciousness came in waves, each one bringing a fresh torrent of agony. The bullet had torn through me like fire, leaving devastation in its wake. I could hear voices around me, urgent and clinical, but they seemed to be coming from underwater, distorted and distant."BP dropping again!""More blood, now!""We're losing him!"I felt myself slipping. The pain began to recede, replaced by a strange weightlessness that should have alarmed me but instead felt oddly peaceful. Was this what dying felt like?The operating room faded around me. The harsh lights, the metallic clink of instruments, the desperate commands of the surgical team. All of it dissolved into a soft darkness.And then, unexpectedly, light.I was small again. Six years old, terrified, huddled in the corner of a damp warehouse. The ropes had cut into my wrists, leaving them raw and bleeding. I could still feel the ache of hunger, the desperate thirst that had made my tongue stick to