All Chapters of Married To The Forgotten Heir : Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Aurora arrived at Oliver’s office the next morning before regular hours, her laptop tucked under one arm, determined to bring this directly to him rather than risk it disappearing into HR’s careful, protective handling of Emily a second time.“You’re here early,” Oliver said, glancing up from his desk, his easy smile fading slightly at whatever he read in her expression. “Everything alright?”“I need to show you something,” Aurora said, setting her laptop on his desk and opening the folder of screenshots she’d carefully assembled the night before. “It’s about Emily.”Oliver’s expression sobered further as she walked him through the access logs, the timestamps, the connection between Emily’s unauthorized entries and both the recent HR complaint and the original gossip-blog leak from months earlier. He listened without interrupting, his usual easy charm entirely absent, replaced by something focused and increasingly grave the longer she spoke.“This is the confidential archive system,”

Aurora sat at her desk long after the meeting ended, the phrase looping through her mind on an endless, unwelcome repeat.He said no one would ever find out.Not they. Not I thought. A specific pronoun, spoken with the particular weight of someone quoting a promise made directly to them, by someone whose authority mattered enough to still protect even in the moment of total collapse.She tried to return to her work, pulling up the Ashworth files she’d been meaning to finalize, but the sketches blurred meaninglessly in front of her, her mind circling instead through every possible identity that single pronoun might belong to. Richard Kingsley, whose calls sent Damien racing into the night. Sebastian, whom she’d never met but had gathered, from scattered fragments of conversation, carried a particular cruelty toward his half-brother. Even Damien himself, a possibility she turned over reluctantly, uncomfortably, before setting it aside ….. not because it felt impossible, exactly, but bec

Aurora spread her sketchbooks across the study desk that first night, discarded concepts already piling up before she’d even settled into a rhythm.She tried three different approaches within the first hour alone ….. a structured, architectural silhouette inspired by Ferrante’s own buildings, a softer, romantic line meant to counterbalance his sharp public persona, a bold, almost aggressive design that pushed against everything she’d assumed he’d want. Each one felt hollow the moment she finished sketching it, technically competent but missing something she couldn’t quite name.“What do you actually want,” she muttered to the empty study, echoing the question she’d asked him directly, the one he’d refused to answer with anything more specific than his ultimatum. “What does anyone actually want that they can’t just tell you outright?”She worked late into the first night, the mansion settling into its familiar evening quiet around her, Damien still buried in his own work downstairs, a

Aurora arrived at the conference room Friday morning with her portfolio case gripped tightly, exhaustion from the past three sleepless nights barely masked beneath careful makeup and a steady, determined expression.Ferrante sat at the head of the table exactly where he’d been days earlier, his expression carrying the same skeptical impatience that had dismissed her three previous concepts within minutes. Oliver sat a short distance away, his posture tense despite his attempt at an encouraging smile, and Priya occupied a seat near the window, her expression carefully neutral in the way Aurora had learned meant genuine attention rather than disinterest.“You have ten minutes,” Ferrante said, checking his watch pointedly. “Make them count.”Aurora set her portfolio down and opened to the final concept, taking a steadying breath before beginning.“I spent the last few days thinking about why every previous concept failed,” she said, meeting his gaze directly rather than looking away. “I

Aurora carried the note downstairs immediately, finding Damien already dressed for the evening, adjusting his cufflinks in front of the hallway mirror.“Damien,” she said, holding out the folded paper. “I found this in my garment bag.”He took it, and Aurora watched his expression shift the moment he read the words ….. not surprise exactly, but something grimmer, more resigned, as though the warning confirmed a fear he’d already been quietly carrying.“Where did this come from?” he asked, his voice tight.“I don’t know. It was tucked into the lining. No signature, no explanation.” Aurora studied his face carefully. “You don’t seem surprised.”“I’m not,” Damien admitted, his jaw tightening. “Not entirely.”“Do you recognize the handwriting?”He studied the note more closely, though after a moment he shook his head. “No. I don’t know whose this is.”“But you’re not surprised someone would send it.”“No,” he said again, quieter this time. “I’m not.”Aurora waited, hoping he might offer m