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Chapter Seventy-Six — Smoke and Ashes
Last Updated:
2025-03-26 19:01:15
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The morning crept in hesitantly, unsure of whether it was truly welcome. Dull gray light filtered through the sheer curtains of the penthouse, casting lifeless streaks across the marble floors. The air felt eerily still, like a story waiting for its final chapter, creating a sense of anticipation rather than peace—the calm before the storm.Leila sat on the edge of the bed, fully dressed with her bag packed and waiting by the door. She hadn’t slept; the pressure against her ribs made sure of that.Adrian, lying still behind her, hadn’t managed to sleep either. She sensed the tension resonating through him, the tightness in his body revealing his restlessness. Both of them caught in the same storm, but facing it in different ways.Finally, after what seemed like ages, his voice pierced through the silence.“You don’t have to go.”His words were rough, hoarse with exhaustion and something close to pleading.Leila shut her eyes, gripping the sheets tightly beneath her hands.“I do.”She
Last Updated : 2025-03-26Trapped with a Ruthless Billionaire Chapter Seventy-Eight - In the Silence
Time moved slowly for Leila, presenting a pace she hadn’t experienced before.Her life had been dominated by chaos and high-stakes decisions for so long. Now, in the calm refuge of Gwen’s apartment, the days felt easy and untroubled, free from the war she had distanced herself from.Leila hadn’t realized how much her former life had robbed her until she found herself waking up to the cheerful sounds of birdsong outside instead of muffled arguments, and to the scent of freshly brewed coffee rather than gunpowder and whiskey. There were no guards stationed outside, no tension saturating the environment, nor secretive plans being whispered like currency.It was simply… life.Ordinary life.On her second morning, she found herself in Gwen’s cozy kitchen, barefoot and wrapped in an oversized sweater that Gwen had tossed to her the night before. The loose sleeves enveloped her hands, and the fabric was soft from years of use. Sipping her coffee, she grimaced at the burnt flavor but held ont
Last Updated : 2025-03-27Trapped with a Ruthless Billionaire Chapter Seventy-Nine — Breaking the Cycle
Adrian couldn’t truly sleep.The night slipped by in restless fragments—flashes of the dark ceiling, the distant hum of the city, and the steady ticking of the hallway clock. Every now and then, his eyes would close, only to fly open moments later as his mind refused to rest. His body ached from exhaustion, but his thoughts wouldn't quiet down.The apartment felt stifling in her absence.He found himself on the balcony before sunrise, clenching a half-full, cooling cup of coffee. The bitter scent mixed with the cool morning air, but he barely noticed it. His eyes remained fixed on the horizon as if he were waiting for Leila to emerge from the shadows and return to his life.But she didn’t. Of course, she wouldn’t.He was tired of waiting.Connor stepped out from the guest room, rubbing his face and then noticing Adrian's silhouette in the early light. He sighed and sat in a chair beside him.“When are you going to stop torturing yourself?” Connor asked, his voice rough with sleep.Adr
Last Updated : 2025-03-27Trapped with a Ruthless Billionaire Chapter Eighty—Returning Home
The sun had just begun to rise over the city skyline when Leila stepped out of the elevator, her heart racing wildly in her chest.She tightened her grip on her bag strap as she gazed at the penthouse door, taking shallow breaths. She had imagined this moment countless times—what she would say, how Adrian would respond, and whether she’d even lose her nerve before making it this far. But now, standing there, her mind went blank.The key still worked.Of course, it did.The gentle click of the lock echoed through the silence as she pushed the door open. A wave of nostalgia washed over her—the scent of cedarwood and coffee, the soft buzz of the city through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the posh minimalism of a space that had once felt so enormous.Everything appeared unchanged.And yet, it felt different.Leila lingered in the doorway, her feet refusing to move further inside. The penthouse remained perfectly ordered, yet there was an emptiness to it now, a stillness that hadn’t been
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When they finally shifted from the couch, the sun had already risen, casting golden rays across the floor. Yet, it didn’t matter to either of them. The outside world could fade away—at that moment, the only thing that truly mattered was the serene space they had created together. A space that felt untouched by time, pain, or the remnants of their past. Leila let out a slow breath, shifting just enough to rest her cheek against Adrian’s chest. The rhythmic flow of his breathing provided a sense of stability she hadn’t known she was craving. She briefly closed her eyes, inhaling his scent—familiar and hers, something she thought she had lost forever. “I forgot what this felt like,” she whispered. “Being here. With you.” Adrian fingers traced gentle, featherlight patterns along her spine, his touch light, as if fearing that anything stronger might disrupt their fragile balance. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” he replied, his voice equally soft. Looking up at hi
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As Leila drifted toward consciousness, the first sensation she noticed was a comforting warmth from the body beside her. Adrian had his arm loosely draped over her waist, his grip loose but possessive even in sleep as if he couldn’t bear to part with her. His deep, steady breaths provided a soothing rhythm, the gentle rise and fall of his chest against her back adding to the soothness.For a moment, she remained still with her eyes closed, letting herself absorb the stillness. There were no sounds of gunfire, no hushed threats, and no war looming just outside the door.Just peace.It felt strangely unfamiliar.Leila repositioned herself, stretching her legs to shake off the confusion of waking up in a moment of calm rather than chaos. Her movement made Adrian to stir and instead of releasing her, he tightened his hold, pulling her even closer.“Don’t move,” he murmured against her skin in a thick sleepy, husky voice.She smiled, absentmindedly tracing her fingers along his forearm.
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Leila held the phone to her ear while balancing a cup of coffee in her other hand as she paced the living room. The call came just as she was preparing to leave with Adrian for his board meeting, and from the moment she heard the gallery director’s voice, she realized she wouldn’t be making to his office after all.“I understand, Mr. Whitmore,” she replied, keeping her tone measured. “But canceling the exhibit is not an option. My father would never permit it, and neither will I.”Adrian, already dressed in a sharp tailored charcoal suit, came out of the bedroom and raised an eyebrow at her. “Is something wrong?”Leila held up a finger and mouthed, One second.“The artist isn’t backing out,” Whitmore quickly clarified. “But there’s been a last-minute issue with the venue due to a double booking. We need to find an alternative by tonight, or we’ll have to delay the exhibit.”Leila sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’ll take care of it.”“Thank you, Ms. Carter. I really appreci
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As soon as Leila stepped into the penthouse, she released a deep sigh of relief. The familiar warmth of home immediately enveloped her like a soothing hug, erasing the day's lingering stress. She slipped off her heels by the entrance, flexing her sore feet as the soft carpet cushioned her steps. The air was filled with the rich, distinctive scent of Adrian’s cologne—earthy and masculine, with a subtle hint of whiskey. It mingled with the faint smell of wood burning in the fireplace, creating a calming atmosphere that stood in stark contrast to the chaos she had just gone through at the gallery.Her eyes landed on Adrian, who was lounging on the couch, one arm casually draped over the backrest, his sleeves rolled up to reveal his strong forearms. In his other hand, he held a tumbler of whiskey, the amber liquid reflecting the golden hue of the city lights filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. He appeared effortlessly relaxed, a world away from the commanding businessman who s
Last Updated : 2025-03-31
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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. “
Trapped with a Ruthless Billionaire Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Three — What we're Building
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
