All Chapters of Bride of Ruthless Billionaire: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

I hung up the phone and stared at it, feeling the weight of their rejection settle over me. But at the same time, there was a strange sense of freedom in it. I was no longer tethered to their expectations, no longer bound by the need to please them. I had lost so much already—my baby, my marriage—and now, it seemed, my family too. But I was still standing.Claire found me sitting on the couch, my phone clenched in my hand, my face pale.“They called, didn’t they?” she asked softly, sitting beside me.I nodded, my throat tight. “Dad’s angry. Because of the divorce. Because I’ve ‘embarrassed’ them.”Claire’s expression darkened, and she reached for my hand. “Screw them. They don’t know what you’ve been through. They don’t deserve you, Cassandra.”I let out a shaky breath, feeling a rush of gratitude for Claire. She had been the only person who had stood by me through all of this, never once judging me for the decisions I had made. She had seen the pain, the loss, and still, she remained

It was an autumn morning in Paris, the kind of day that carried the promise of something new with every cool breeze. I had started a small routine—waking up early, taking a walk around the neighborhood, and stopping by the café near my apartment for coffee before heading to Claire’s boutique. The city still affected me, the beautiful distraction I desperately needed. It was almost therapeutic, just being part of the hum of life here.I pushed open the café door, the soft chime of the bell welcoming me into the familiar warmth. The scent of freshly brewed coffee hit me instantly, comforting and grounding. I stepped up to the counter and ordered my usual—a cappuccino—before taking a seat by the window, watching the world outside.As I waited for my order, my thoughts drifted to the modeling offer. The agency followed up with me yesterday, wanting me to sign a contract. Claire was ecstatic, urging me to do it, but I was still hesitating. It felt like such a leap, like diving headfirst in

Three years. It had been three long, turbulent years since I’d last seen Killian. A lifetime had stretched between then and now, each day pulling me further from the woman I used to be—the woman who clung to a broken marriage, who sent him meals to the office just to feel a part of his world, who refused to sign the divorce papers out of fear of losing him completely.But that woman was gone now.I took a deep breath as I stepped out of the sleek black car that had brought me to the meeting. My heels clicked on the polished marble floor of the high-rise building in the heart of New York City. The glass walls reflected the cityscape, the view breathtaking, but my focus remained sharp, my heart pounding with anticipation and a hint of dread.This meeting was crucial. Claire’s fashion brand, which I had become deeply involved in over the past few years, was at the center of an exciting new venture. A potential partnership with a major conglomerate. It would mean expansion into new market

“No!” I shouted, my hands shaking. “You don’t get to act like you cared! Where were you, Killian? Where were you when I was bleeding on the floor, begging for someone to help me? Where were you when I lost our child? You weren’t there. You never were.”His face paled, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel harder. “What are you talking about?” His voice was softer now, almost afraid of the answer.I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to steady myself, but the tears were already brimming in my eyes. “The baby,” I whispered, the words heavy with grief. “I lost the baby, Killian. Seria pushed me, and I lost the baby.”Killian’s eyes widened in shock, his face going slack as the weight of my words sank in. For the first time again. I was seeing emotions on his face. “No...” he breathed, shaking his head as if refusing to believe it. “I—I didn’t know. I didn’t—”“Of course, you didn’t know,” I spat, cutting him off. “You didn’t care to know. You were too busy with

The soft murmur of waves and the distant cry of seagulls pulled me from sleep. The light filtering through the white curtains was warm, bathing the room in a golden glow. For a moment, I lay there, disoriented, the remnants of sleep still clinging to me.I wasn’t in the hospital anymore.Sitting up slowly, I looked around the unfamiliar room. The bed was large, covered in crisp, white sheets, and the wooden beams of the ceiling were high above me. The air was fresh, salty, with a gentle breeze rolling in from the open window. The room itself was simple yet elegant—polished wooden floors, a small seating area, and a door that likely led to a bathroom.Where am I?I swung my legs over the side of the bed, feeling the cool floor beneath my bare feet. My heart pounded in my chest as I walked toward the open window, my pulse quickening with each step. Pushing aside the gauzy curtains, I was greeted by a breathtaking view—a long stretch of white sand beach, crystal clear water, and the lush