All Chapters of THE BILLIONAIRE'S CONTRACT WIFE : Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Ellie's POV"Sophie's phone. Read it right now. It is about Rosie, and I need you to tell me she is safe before I say another single word to that man."My voice cracked on the last word, every ounce of composure I had built for that boardroom shattering the second August let those words leave his mouth.Sophie's hands shook as she unlocked her phone, and I watched her face drain of color as she read the message, her eyes lifting to mine with a fear that answered the question before she even spoke. "Security lost visual on the nursery camera eleven minutes ago," she whispered. "The nanny is not answering her phone."The room tilted violently around me, every sound narrowing to the pounding of my own heartbeat. Nathan was already moving, phone pressed to his ear, barking orders to our security team in a voice I had never heard him use before, sharp and desperate and utterly unlike the controlled CEO the board was used to seeing.August remained seated, calm in a way that made my skin cr

Ellie’s POV“Nathan, whose handwriting is this, because it is not yours, and it is definitely not your father’s, and it has my grandfather’s name written on the front.”I had not meant to go looking for anything. I was only searching for tape to wrap Rosie’s birthday present when I found the old cedar box tucked behind winter coats in the hallway closet, the one Nathan always said belonged to his father and had never been opened since the funeral. The lid stuck slightly when I pulled it free, swollen with age, and dust rose in a thin cloud that made me sneeze twice before I could see what was actually inside.Inside, beneath a stack of yellowed shipping receipts, was an envelope addressed to Walter Hartman in handwriting I did not recognize, sealed, never sent. I turned it over slowly, running my thumb along the edge, feeling the strange, heavy weight of something that had been waiting decades to be found.Nathan came in from the kitchen still holding Rosie’s spoon, frosting on his th

Ellie’s POV“My daughter deserves to know her father’s family exists, even if that family never wanted to know her, and I am done waiting for someone to finally care enough to look.”The words were written in careful, aching handwriting, dated thirty two years ago, and by the time I finished reading them aloud, Nathan’s hands were shaking so badly he had to set the letter down on the table between us, the pages trembling long after his fingers released them.“She was pregnant,” Nathan said quietly, staring at nothing, his voice barely above a whisper. “My father had another child, and he knew, and he never told anyone. Not my mother, not me, not a single soul in thirty years.”I read the rest slowly, my chest tightening with every line. Margaret had written to Walter Hartman, not to expose the affair, but because she had heard he was a fair man, someone who might help her find a lawyer willing to fight for what her daughter deserved without dragging the Cross name through scandal. The

Ellie’s POV“I have the results, and I need both of you sitting down before I say another single word, because this is bigger than either of you are expecting, bigger than I expected when I started this search.”Sophie’s voice shook slightly over the phone, which was unlike her, unlike the calm, steady friend who had talked me through wedding chaos, board betrayals, and one terrifying kidnapping without ever once losing her composure in front of me.Nathan gripped my hand across the kitchen table as we waited, Rosie thankfully asleep upstairs, unaware that the answer about to arrive could reshape everything she would one day understand about her own family, about where she came from and who had been waiting for her all along.“The DNA confirms it,” Sophie finally said, her voice steadying. “Claire is your half sister, Nathan. Ninety nine point nine percent certainty. There is no room left for doubt.”I watched something shift behind Nathan’s eyes, grief and relief tangled together in

Ellie’s POV“Nathan, wake up right now, something is wrong with Rosie, and I need you downstairs before I even finish this sentence, please, hurry.”Her cry cut through the monitor at two in the morning, sharp and different from her usual fussing, the kind of cry that yanked me fully awake before my mind had even processed what I heard. The second I lifted her from the crib, I felt the heat radiating off her tiny body like a furnace, her cheeks flushed dark red in the dim nightlight glow.Nathan was already beside me, phone in hand, calling the pediatrician’s after hours line before I had even finished checking her temperature, his voice clipped and urgent in a way that matched exactly how my own chest felt. “One hundred and three,” I said, my voice shaking so hard I could barely read the small screen. “Nathan, that is too high, that cannot be normal.”“We are leaving now,” he said, already pulling on shoes, all thoughts of Preston Hale and untraceable messages vanishing instantly the