All Chapters of The Billionaire's Curvy Bride: Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

SELENE’S POVThe mid-afternoon sky over Midtown was gray, heavy, and spitting tiny flecks of sleet against the tall windows of the Gramercy study.On the desk, my father’s tablet was muted, but the live news banner scrolling across the screen was loud enough: PARK AVENUE RESIDENCE SEIZED UNDER FEDERAL INJUNCTION.I stood by the window wearing a heavy burgundy knit dress with a broad, rolling cowl neck that sat off my collarbone. The fabric fit snugly over my chest, hugging the rich, generous curve of my waist and hips before falling to my boots. In Zurich, I used to dress to disappear. Today, standing in the bright afternoon light, I wore my size without hiding behind layers.Behind me, the study door clicked open.Ryker walked in, tossing his dark cashmere overcoat onto the leather sofa. He had unbuttoned his collar, the top button of his white shirt undone, his dark hair slightly unruly. His green eyes found me instantly, tracking down the full curve of my hips with a slow, heavy in

ETHAN’S POVThe late autumn wind swept dry maple leaves across the gravel paths of Gramercy Park, rustling the heavy iron gates that separated the private square from the city noise.I sat on a wooden bench near the center lawn, holding two paper cups of dark roast coffee. A few yards away, Kai was busy pushing a small wooden truck along the brick edging, his bright, clear laughter carrying over the crisp afternoon air.Selene walked over from the playground path, wearing her dark green wool coat over an ivory knit sweater. Her dark hair fell loose around her shoulders, her face flushed healthy and warm from the chill. She looked entirely present, grounded, and steady…a world away from the exhausted, hunted woman who had first arrived back in the city eighteen months ago."Kai is going to wear his sneakers out by sunset," Selene said with a soft, genuine smile, sitting down beside me on the bench."Let him," I said, handing her one of the coffee cups. "He’s four. Wearing shoes out is

ELISE’S POVThe tea in my porcelain cup had gone completely cold, but my old hands were trembling too much to set it down onto the saucer without rattling the glass.Across from me in the Gramercy parlor, Selene sat on the velvet settee, wearing a fitted dark green knit sweater that hugged the full, soft curve of her waist and bust. Beside her, Ryker sat with his broad shoulders squared, his arm draped over the back of the settee, his large hand resting firmly on Selene’s hip in an unyielding, protective claim.They were looking at me, two adults who had survived every storm Catherine and Marcus had thrown at them, waiting for the truth I had kept guarded for over thirty years."Grandma Elise," Selene said, her voice gentle, respectful, but carrying a deep, quiet resolve. "You said you came here to tell us why my mother treated me the way she did. Please... I need to know."I took a slow breath, setting the teacup down on the mahogany table with a faint clink."You both think Catherin

SELENE’S POVThe autumn wind off the Hudson River carried the crisp, sharp scent of damp earth and salt as Ryker turned the town car through the iron gates of Sleepy Hollow Cemetery.It was mid-afternoon on a Saturday. The massive stone mausoleums and ancient oak trees were blanketed in a thick layer of golden-brown leaves that crunched softly beneath our boots.I wore my heavy black wool coat over a charcoal cashmere sweater, my hands tucked deep into my pockets. Beside me, Ryker walked in a matching dark coat, his hand resting securely against the small of my back. He hadn't spoken since we crossed the cemetery bridge, but his broad, steady presence was a constant, unyielding anchor beside me.We stopped beneath the sprawling boughs of a mature weeping willow near the quiet western slope of the grounds.A simple, weather-worn gray granite headstone marked the plot: ELENA KANE. 1968–1997. BELOVED MOTHER.Ryker paused, stepping up to the stone. He didn't say a prayer out loud, but his

SELENE’S POVThe sunlit parlor of the Riverdale townhome felt impossibly warm. Pale winter light poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the lawn, turning the falling flakes of snow outside into swirling specks of gold.The scent of cedarwood, hot cider, and fresh white gardenias filled the room. There were no publicists, no corporate photographers, and no society reporters peering through the wrought-iron gates. There were only five people standing on the thick aubusson rug: my father, sitting proudly in an armchair with Kai perched on his knee; Ethan, leaning comfortably against the mantelpiece with a glass of sparkling cider; Julian Vance, holding the official state registry; and Ryker.I stood in front of the marble hearth in my floor-length ivory silk gown. The silk draped luxuriously over my bust and wrapped snugly around my waist, emphasizing the full, generous flare of my hips. For years, I had believed that taking up physical space was a flaw to be corrected.