All Chapters of The Billionaire's Rebirth Bride: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

I didn't sleep that night.I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Adrian's words played on a loop in my head. I was there. I saw you die.He knew. He'd known since the beginning. Every moment I thought I was hiding something, he was already two steps ahead. Every time I caught him watching me, every flicker I couldn't name—he knew.I should have been angry. I should have felt betrayed.Instead, I felt something else. Something I couldn't name.Relief.I wasn't alone in this anymore.I got up at three. I walked to the kitchen. I made tea I didn't drink. I sat at the island and stared at the wall.At four, I heard footsteps. Adrian appeared in the doorway. He was still dressed. He hadn't slept either."You're up," he said."So are you."He walked to the island. He sat across from me. He didn't ask if I was okay. He didn't apologize. He just sat there."How long have you known?" I asked."Since the beginning.""That's not an answer."He was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "I knew you be

The lawyer's office was on the sixteenth floor of a building that smelled like old paper and lemon polish.I hadn't been here in years. Not since my mother died. Not since the reading of her will, when I sat in a stiff chair and listened to a stranger explain what she'd left behind. I'd been seventeen. I hadn't understood half of it. I'd just wanted to go home.Now I was back.Adrian came with me. He didn't ask if I wanted him there. He just came. He sat beside me in the waiting room, his presence steady and quiet.The lawyer's name was Harold Pines. He was old. Older than I remembered. His hands shook when he opened the file."Miss Voss," he said. "It's been a long time.""Elena.""Elena. Of course." He adjusted his glasses. "I understand you have questions about the trust fund.""I have more than questions. I have evidence."I set the folder on his desk. He opened it. He read through the documents. His face didn't change, but his hands stopped shaking."Where did you get this?" he a

Adrian took me to dinner on a Saturday.Not a performance. Not a charity event. Not a meeting with lawyers or analysts or anyone who wanted something from us.Just dinner.He didn't tell me where we were going. He just said to be ready at seven. I wore one of the new dresses—dark blue, simple, nothing that would draw attention. He wore a gray suit. No tie.We drove in silence. The city passed by. I didn't ask where we were going. He didn't offer.The restaurant was small. Tucked away on a side street. No sign. No windows. Just a door with a brass handle."Where are we?" I asked."My favorite place."He opened the door. I walked in.The room was dim. Candles on every table. A fire burning in a stone hearth. The smell of bread and garlic and something I couldn't name.A woman appeared. She was older. Gray hair. Kind eyes. She smiled when she saw Adrian."Mr. Kane. It's been too long.""I know. I've been busy."She looked at me. "And who is this?""Elena.""Elena." She said it like she w

Felix didn't trust me.He never said it outright. He was too professional for that. But I could see it in the way he watched me. The way he paused before answering my questions. The way he double-checked every piece of information I provided.I didn't blame him. I wouldn't have trusted me either.We were in the conference room. Adrian was there. Sloane was there. Felix had spread documents across the table—bank statements, transfer records, photographs of Julian and Volkov together."These are the accounts you identified," Felix said, pointing to a column of numbers. "All verified. All connected to the shell company."I nodded. I already knew that."And these are the transfers from the trust fund. Mira's withdrawals. Julian's deposits. It's all here.""I know."Felix looked at me. He didn't blink. "How do you know?"I met his gaze. "I paid attention.""That's not an answer.""It's the only one you're getting."He leaned back in his chair. He folded his arms. He looked at Adrian."Mr.

The storage unit was in a part of the city I'd never been to.Adrian had given me the address. He'd offered to come. I told him no. This was something I needed to do alone.The key was heavy in my hand. The lock was stiff. It took me three tries to open it.The door rolled up. Dust and darkness spilled out.I stepped inside.My mother's things were stacked against the walls. Boxes. Furniture. Old paintings. A trunk I remembered from childhood. The smell hit me first—lavender and old paper and something I couldn't name.I stood there. I didn't move. I just breathed.The unit had been sealed since she died. My father couldn't bring himself to go through it. Cecilia didn't care. And I—I was seventeen. I was too young. Too lost. I let it sit.Now I was here.I walked to the trunk first. I remembered this one. My mother used to keep her journals in it. She'd write every night before bed. She'd never let anyone read them.I opened it.The journals were inside. Twelve of them. Leather-bound.