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Chapter Fifty-seven: Glass Walls
Last Updated:
2025-03-21 00:37:15
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Trapped with a Ruthless Billionaire Chapter Fifty-eight:Fault Lines
The door clicked shut behind her, yet Adrian remained motionless.The absence of Leila made the room feel colder, the silence surrounding him intensifying like a vice. His jaw tightened as he exhaled, struggling to stay composed despite the turmoil within. But it was futile.Leila’s words reverberated in the stifling stillness, sharp as blades, piercing like needles, cutting deeper than he would ever dare acknowledge.I decide who I am when this is all over.The fear that gripped him was almost unbearable.Because he no longer knew who she really was to him.Is she just a pawn that he acquired by a contract marriage? Or someone more than what he assumes she is?At some point, this had ceased to be about power or pride. Somewhere amid the violence and betrayal, during every glance she cast his way as if awaiting his abandonment—Adrian lost sight of the man he once was.The man who could walk away.The ruthless billionaire that doesn't do attachments or feelings.Now, every decision fe
Last Updated : 2025-03-21Trapped with a Ruthless Billionaire Chapter Fifty-nine: Kingdom Falls
As dawn's first light began to break, Leila sensed a change in the air. It was subtle, an unspoken tension weaving through the silence, but it was there heavy and suffocating. Outside the safehouse, the world was beginning to stir, yet time felt frozen within its walls.Adrian hadn’t slept. She didn’t need to ask to confirm it. He was by the window, aloof and tense, staring at the floor as if it held the answers he sought. There was a deeper darkness about him, a weariness that hinted at something more dangerous than mere tiredness.The door creaked open, revealing Connor, who entered cautiously. He quickly assessed the room before asking, “Are we moving?”Adrian continued to gaze out the window. “Yeah.”Leila forced herself off the bed, ignoring the dull ache in her body. Every part of her urged her to stay put, to rest a little longer, but she understood that stillness was an illusion. Safety was a lie, and postponing action would only make their inevitable fall harder when it came
Last Updated : 2025-03-21Trapped with a Ruthless Billionaire Chapter Sixty: Blood Money
The city transformed at night—colder, harsher, like a predator lurking in the glow of the streetlights. No matter how many streets Adrian owned or how many deals he controlled, his sense of power always felt fleeting, like borrowed time slipping away.Tonight was no exception.He leaned on the rusted balcony of the safehouse, the wind slicing through his jacket. The skyline loomed before him, a jagged outline of shattered hopes and fallen dynasties. Each breath was tinged with the taste of metal and decay, while the shadows around him echoed the losses he had endured—and what he was determined to reclaim.Behind him, the door creaked open but he didn’t turn around; he didn’t need to.“You’re going to kill him, aren’t you?”Leila’s voice was soft but firm, conveying that she already knew the answer.Adrian let out a slow breath, gripping the railing tighter. “Calloway’s already dead. He just hasn’t realized it yet.”Leila moved closer, wrapping her arms around herself as the evening c
Last Updated : 2025-03-21Trapped with a Ruthless Billionaire Chapter Sixty-one: Blood in the Water
The air was heavy with the mixed scents of salt, oil, and rust, a pungent cocktail that made the docks feel more like a desolate graveyard than a bustling shipping port. Before they stretched Dock Twelve, a maze of stacked crates, towering cargo containers, and corroded scaffolding—an ideal setting for an ambush, where darkness could easily swallow men whole.Adrian crouched behind a pile of wooden crates, his heartbeat steady and breath measured. The docks were familiar territory for him; he had conducted plenty of business in environments like this. However, something about the night felt unsettling. The air was thick and heavy, and the eerie stillness, broken only by the distant sound of water lapping against the docks, it was as if the whole place was on the brink of chaos.A soft crackling through his earpiece announced Luca’s voice, calm but tinged with urgency. “Five men on the west end. Two more on watch. They seem ready for visitors.”Adrian clenched his jaw. He had suspected
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The faint odors of smoke and saltwater lingered on Adrian’s skin, a haunting reminder of the destructive fire at Dock Twelve. Despite the cooling embers and the smoldering wreckage around him, a heavyweight remained in his chest. The explosion wasn't the end—it was a statement. Ethan was still out there. Watching. WaitingHowever, tonight offered Adrian a new lead—a name.Nathaniel Graves.Gwen had called immediately after the explosion, her voice unusually strained. Adrian had never heard her with such uncertainty before, and it made him anxious.“I’ve located him,” she said, her tone clipped and businesslike. Yet there was an underlying current of something unsaid.Heart racing, Adrian held the phone tightly against his ear. “Nathaniel Graves?”“He’s real,” she affirmed.Now, as Adrian sat at the penthouse conference table with Leila beside him, Connor downing whiskey a few chairs away, and Luca reclining with folded arms, he braced himself for the complete story. The atmosphere was
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They arrived at the penthouse later that night, the night felt endless after Gwen ended her call. The silence enveloping the space wasn’t tranquil; it was thick with suspense, preparing for the inevitable chaos. Shadows loomed in the corners, stretching across the sleek floors as if even the night itself understood what was coming.Adrian remained still, fixated on the city skyline. His reflection in the glass was faint and warped, but the heaviness in his heart was undeniable. Leila sat beside him, her hand gently resting on his knee. That single point of contact grounded him, an anchor against the turmoil within him. Still, it did little to quiet the inner conflict consuming him.Luca.Adrian was uncertain about how to handle him. Forgiveness wasn’t given lightly, especially for actions like these. Yet, a part of him understood Luca’s motives. He had taken risks because he wanted the same outcome as Adrian—Ethan Graves’s death.That didn’t justify the act.But it made the situation…
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The air outside was colder than usual when Leila stepped onto the penthouse balcony. The city below sprawled out in glittering indifference, oblivious to the battle closing in. Traffic still moved, neon signs still flickered, and people carried on with their lives. But up here, standing in the quiet, it felt like time had slowed to a suffocating crawl.Adrian was out there again, hunting Ethan Graves. Again.Every time he walked out that door, Leila wondered if he’d return.She tried not to think about the worst possibilities, but they clung to her like shadows. It had only been days since she’d escaped Ethan’s clutches, yet the memories of her captivity refused to fade. She could still hear his voice, dripping with amusement. Feel the bite of the ropes against her wrists. The way he had stripped her of her choices, of her control. She hated that the fear still lurked beneath her skin.But she wasn’t that girl anymore.Her phone rang, pulling her from the thoughts she wanted to drown.
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The warehouse was now unsettlingly still, the gunfire extinguished, leaving only the oppressive remnants of death and devastation. Leila stood amid the wreckage, her breaths uneven and her heart racing like a war drum. Bodies were strewn across the cold concrete floor, the metallic odor of blood blending with the acrid scent of gunpowder, making her throat constrict. Smoke hung in the air, thick and suffocating, a haunting reminder of the battle that had just unfolded.She inhaled sharply, trying to regain her composure, forcing her trembling hands to steady.Then she turned to meet Connor's gaze.“Are you okay?” he rasped, looking pale and sweaty, visibly shaken despite his tough facade.Leila nodded weakly, although her feelings were more complex. “Yeah. I’m okay.”Luca, crouched by a pile of overturned crates, was searching through their contents, his expression grim. He pulled out a ledger, hurriedly scanning the scribbled notes before shaking his head. “We struck gold,” he mutter
Last Updated : 2025-03-22
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Trapped with a Ruthless Billionaire Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Five — When Familiar Comes Home
Gwen's Arrival Gwen arrived on a cloud-covered afternoon, when the world seemed to hold its breath. Leila stood on the sacred-feeling brownstone steps, her pale wool scarf wrapped around her, her coat partially zipped over her gently rounded stomach. The air was infused with the scent of wet stone and lavender, faint traces of the cleaning oil lingering around the house's edges.When the cab arrived, Leila remained still, watching Gwen emerge, carrying a worn canvas bag. Gwen's thin coat appeared more appropriate for warmer weather, and her hair was pulled up in a messy knot, strands flying loose in the breeze.They exchanged silent glances across the distance for a moment.Then Gwen dropped the bag and bounded up the stairs in two swift strides.Leila stepped forward just in time to catch her, and they embraced—tight and sudden, yet utterly right. Gwen's arms wrapped around Leila's back, her breath hitching against Leila's shoulder."You look like spring," Gwen murmured, her voice t
Trapped with a Ruthless Billionaire Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Four — The Spaces We Fill
Few days later, they navigated the renovated brownstone as if they were gliding through the pages of a story they'd once only dared to imagine.The floors, once scattered with splinters and gaps, had been replaced with reclaimed wood that hummed gracefully beneath their feet. The staircase—rebuilt, sanded, and stained—no longer creaked under their weight but instead welcomed them into their newly crafted existence. Each room exuded the lingering aroma of fresh paint, pine wood polish, and lavender oil—an unusual yet soothing blend that lingered in the air like a cherished memory.Leila paused in the entryway, running her fingers along the newly fitted doorframe. Her other hand rested on the slight curve of her belly, subtly hidden under her sweater but undeniable to her. She watched as Adrian moved through the living room, skillfully opening the windows to let in the gentle spring breeze.She smiled slightly. “It feels like it’s alive.”Adrian looked back at her, his gaze softening. “
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LeilaThe nausea didn't creep in-- it slammed into her suddenly, like a crashing wave.One moment, she was on the gallery floor, crouched in a patch of warm light, her hands buried in fabric samples she'd been collecting over the past week. She had midnight blue for the reading nook and a muted rose she hoped would work in the nursery—gentle and grounding. This task felt reassuring, providing a rare sense of control amidst the chaos.Then, without warning, everything shifted.The room spun violently, causing her stomach to turn with it. Her hands slipped off the pile of swatches, and she barely managed to get to her feet and rush to the bathroom, gripping the doorframe for support as her heart raced. She felt clammy and disoriented, as if her own body had betrayed her.Nausea struck in relentless waves while she leaned over the sink, gripping the cold porcelain and breathing shallowly through her nose. Her reflection revealed pale skin and heavy, shadowed eyes.By the time Adrian arri
Trapped with a Ruthless Billionaire Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Two: Told in Gentle Light
Pregnancy RevealLeila dialed Gwen from the gallery, her fingers quivering slightly as she made the call.The space was empty that morning, still resonating with the echoes of laughter and footsteps from the other night’s opening. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, creating long, golden lines on the smooth concrete floor. Her latest collection adorned the walls—images that felt like fragments of her heart captured in ink and shadow. Yet none of these works, not even the proudest or most vulnerable work she'd hung there, compared to what she felt within her now.Gwen picked up on the third ring, her voice thick with sleep and that familiar, dry-edged affection.“Hello?” came the croaky murmur.“I didn’t wake you, did I?” Leila asked, slowly pacing between two canvases. She paused in front of one featuring Adrian at the lake, wind tousling his hair and vulnerability etched in every feature. It was one of the few photos she had been unable to let go of.“You did,” Gwen replied w
Trapped with a Ruthless Billionaire Chapter One Hundred Twenty-One-Laying the Foundation
----LeilaThat morning, their conversation was sparse—not due to avoidance or a lack of topics, but because the weight of what had just shifted between them made words feel.....too small.Silence wrapped around them like a comforting blanket—not chilly or distant, but respectful. It felt as if speaking too soon might shatter the delicate truth lingering between them.Leila retreated to the window seat, captivated by the view even though she barely noticed it. She curled her knees beneath her, a throw blanket resting on her legs, while an untouched cup of tea—over-steeped and cold—sat on the windowsill. Thirst was not her concern; she wasn’t even sure what she felt. Just that something within her was in flux, rearranging.Across the room, Adrian quietly moved around the kitchen, the sounds of a mug clinking, water boiling, and his soft footsteps creating a soothing background. He didn’t press her with questions or attempt to fill the silence, but every so often, she sensed his gaze on
Trapped with a Ruthless Billionaire Chapter One Hundred Twenty – Foundations
The Brownstone Restoration The rhythmic sound of hammering resonated through the old walls, reminiscent of a heartbeat—steady and alive.Leila stood barefoot in what used to be the sitting room, now stripped to its bare frame. The plaster had been removed, exposing wooden beams and weathered brick. The floorboards had been taken up days earlier, leaving an uneven subfloor covered in old nails and bits of insulation. Light streamed through a gap where a windowpane had been taken out, casting long, flickering shafts that danced along the dust-laden walls.The air was filled with the scent of sawdust, earth, and memories.Adrian had kept the crew minimal—just four carefully selected individuals, chosen through contacts Connor trusted—experts in restoration rather than demolition. Skilled craftspeople who recognized when a building was more than just timber and stone; when it carried significance, a legacy, or grief.No one asked questions; they didn’t have to. The house communicated its
Trapped with a Ruthless Billionaire Chapter One Hundred Nineteen – The Letters
AdrianThe envelope in his hands felt incredibly delicate, as if it would crumble if he applied too much pressure. It wasn't just the paper; it was the significance of its contents. The burden of long-hidden truths, something treasured. The past was enclosed in fading ink, infused with the gentle quiver of a woman who hoped her words would eventually reach him.Adrian Michael Blackwell.She had written out his full name in cursive, slightly slanted, demonstrating a carefulness he hadn't seen since he was a child when he used to watch her write grocery lists and school permission slips. Though years had passed since he heard her voice, as he gazed at those letters, he could almost hear it—soft, steady, a bit weary, yet filled with warmth she hadn't dared show too openly.He sat on the edge of the couch, his elbows on his knees, a shoebox of letters resting like an artifact between him and Leila. She hadn't broken the silence since their return home. Instead, she had made tea, draped a
Trapped with a Ruthless Billionaire Chapter One Hundred Eighteen – Echoes
----LeilaThe studio's light always conveyed honesty.Morning light, in particular, arrived gently and contemplatively, filtering through the frosted panes of the warehouse windows and slicing through the dust motes like unresolved memories. Leila stood barefoot on the well-worn oriental rug at the room's center, camera held delicately in her hands, her eyes focused on the framed photo hung on the opposite wall.The lake.And Adrian.He was sitting on the edge of a dilapidated dock, his profile directed toward the horizon, one arm resting on his knee. His expression was difficult to interpret—not because it lacked emotion, but rather due to its complexity. It contained a blend of quiet longing, newfound tranquility, and an underlying hint of regret. She had captured that moment instinctively—without poses or prompts.Simply, it was truth.She couldn’t explain why she kept coming back to that specific photograph. She had many from that trip and countless more that followed. But this o
Trapped with a Ruthless Billionaire Chapter One Hundred Seventeen – The Weight of Quiet Things
The aroma of coffee clung to the penthouse like a lingering memory.Dark roast. Rich. Intense. With just a trace of cinnamon—Leila’s quiet rebellion against his typical straightforward tastes. He’d initially rolled his eyes at her first attempt but now found himself missing it when it was absent.The atmosphere was calm. Not dead still—unlike the oppressive silence that once made him instinctively reach for hidden weapons. This silence—warm and inviting—felt domestic.It came from the freshly brewed coffee and the soft ticking of water in the radiator, accompanied by the sounds of a city gradually waking. The soft sound of bare feet on polished hardwood broke the stillness.Leila.She moved seamlessly—her hair still tousled from sleep, one sleeve of his shirt slipping off her shoulder, a lazy half-smile on her lips as she entered the living room with a mug in hand. She kissed him earlier, instinctively, a gentle press of lips against his jaw, still in a dreamy state. It was spontaneou
