Todos los capítulos de The Billionaire's Secret Bride: Capítulo 291 - Capítulo 300

Point of View: Elena “Say her name again,” I whispered, because some part of me could not believe I had heard him right the first time. The words had come out of Alexander so quietly, so carefully, that for a moment I wondered if I had imagined them entirely, conjured out of the strange, charged stillness of the theater around us. Alexander’s hand was still warm around mine from the car ride home, but his voice had gone somewhere far away, somewhere I could not quite follow, as though part of him had already left the room to go searching for an answer neither of us yet had. “I don’t have a name yet,” he said, and I felt his fingers tighten slightly around mine, an anchor thrown out against something enormous. “Just a record. A sister. Somewhere out there, living a whole life that none of us ever knew existed.” We sat together on the low bench just inside the theater’s side entrance, the one Priya had installed for donors who needed a quiet moment away from the noise of a gala. Tonig

Point of View: Elena“She’s been looking too,” I repeated, standing in the kitchen doorway still in my coat, watching Alexander’s face as he read Voss’s message aloud a second time, as though saying it twice might make it feel less enormous. He had called me from the car, his voice so unsteady I had left the theater immediately, papers still scattered across my desk, and driven straight to the old house without stopping to think about anything except getting to him.“Marcus doesn’t know yet,” Alexander said. “I want to tell him together. I don’t think either of us should be alone for this one.”We found him exactly where Alexander had left him an hour earlier, still sitting at the kitchen table with that same glass of untouched water, as though he had not moved at all in the time between confession and whatever came next. He looked up when we came in, his eyes moving quickly between the two of us, already searching our faces for whatever news had brought us back so soon.“What is it,”

Point of View: Elena“You’re allowed to be terrified,” Alexander told Marcus, and I watched from the couch as Marcus folded and unfolded the letter for the fourth time in as many minutes, the paper already soft at its creases from handling, edges beginning to fray under the weight of his anxious hands. “This isn’t a boardroom. There’s no version of being terrified here that makes you weak.”We sat in Alexander’s study, the same room where Marcus had once tried to convince the board his own brother was unfit to lead the company, a fact none of us mentioned but all of us clearly remembered, the memory sitting quietly in the corner of the room like a piece of furniture we had simply learned to walk around. Now he sat across from us holding a letter to a sister he had never met, looking more exposed than I had ever seen him, more exposed, I imagined, than he had looked even on the day the vote went against him.“What if she reads it and decides we’re exactly the family she’s better off wi

Point of View: Elena“She has your eyes and Marcus’s stubbornness,” I told Alexander that night, still turning over the four hours I had spent with Grace, the details arriving faster than I could properly hold onto them. “And your mother’s habit of asking exactly the question you least want to answer, and then simply waiting, patiently, until you answer it anyway.”“What did she ask,” Alexander said carefully, bracing himself without quite knowing why.“Whether this family actually wanted her,” I said, “or whether we simply wanted to close an old wound. She wanted to know the difference mattered to us.”I watched the question settle over him, saw him turn it over in his own mind, and I understood, watching his face, that it was exactly the right question, and exactly the one none of us had honestly asked ourselves yet, too caught up in the momentum of finding her to stop and examine our own reasons. “Which is it,” he said quietly. “For me, I mean. Do I want her, or do I just want the

Point of View: Elena“I want to do this properly,” Alexander said, watching me carefully across the breakfast table, and I set down my coffee, a small frown of confusion crossing my face at the sudden seriousness in his voice, my spoon still resting against the rim of my cereal bowl.“Do what properly,” I asked.“Marry you,” he said simply. “Again. For real this time. Not because a will demanded it, not because a company needed it, not because either of our families required it to survive. Just because I choose you, completely, with nothing forcing my hand except my own certainty.”My eyes filled slowly, and for a moment I could not find a single word to say, simply reaching across the table to take his hand, my fingers trembling slightly against his. “We’re already married,” I said softly, though even as I said it I could feel the meaning underneath what he was asking.“I know,” he said. “I don’t need the paperwork to change. I just need you to hear me say it, clearly, without any co