THE TYCOON’s SILENT HEIR
He was pale, and his voice was little more than a whisper, but the bluish tint was gone from his fingernails, replaced by a healthy, pink glow.
Aurelia sat by his side, her fingers interlaced with his. She knew the time for secrets had passed. The "man from the television" was no longer a distant figure; he was the man who had bought the very heart beating in Elias’s chest.
"Elias," Aurelia whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "There’s something I need to tell you. About the man who lives here."
Elias looked past her toward the doorway, where Damian stood. The billionaire was dressed in a crisp black suit, his expression a carefully constructed mask of neutrality, though his eyes remaine
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