All Chapters of Falling For My Billionaire Captor: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Stella’s POVThe air outside was crisp, the streetlights casting a soft glow over the quiet pavement as we walked side by side, the sound of our footsteps the only noise between us. I had already led him out of the café, taking a moment to make sure I wasn’t going to let him escape the conversation just yet. I had made a point of not being the type to linger in places I wasn’t wanted, but I was enjoying this weird, electric energy between us. It was like we were both testing the waters, seeing who could make the first move—or at least, that’s what I liked to think.I glanced over at Ian, who was holding the black coffee I had ordered for him, his expression twisted into a slight grimace as he took another reluctant sip.“You know,” I began, eyeing him with a playful smirk, “I’m not really a fan of people who don’t drink coffee the right way.”“Black coffee is the right way?” He raised an eyebrow at me, the playful edge in his voice not quite hiding his genuine distaste for the drink.

Stella’s POVThe hum of voices in the pub was a comfort, the familiar clink of glasses and the soft murmur of customers settling in for the night. I was behind the bar, cleaning the counters with a practiced hand, making sure every surface gleamed just right. I loved this place. It was mine—well, for the most part. No one could ruin it for me, not unless I let them.The door creaked open, breaking my focus. I glanced up, my fingers still wrapped around the cloth I was using to wipe down the bar. A tall woman stepped in, her heels clicking loudly on the hardwood floor as she moved with slow, deliberate steps. My first thought was: She’s overdressed for a place like this.Her gown was tight, so tight it hugged her every curve, and the material shimmered under the low lights of the pub. A rich shade of red that was far too eye-catching for someone who just wanted to grab a drink. She walked with confidence, almost as if the room had been made for her to step into, and she carried herself

Mona’s POVIt had been over twenty minutes since I hung up with Ian. Twenty minutes. I glanced at the door again. No sign of him. I rubbed my temple, frustration bubbling inside me. Ian had promised he’d be back soon. But soon could mean anything, right? I had no idea what was going on, and that was driving me insane.I tried to shake it off. Maybe he was caught up with something, but something didn’t sit right. Why hadn't he told me anything about the police, about Inspector Ken showing up? What kind of trouble was he really in? I glanced back at the door again, wondering if I should just open it and ask the inspector more questions. But then the thought of standing in front of that silent, unblinking cop made me hesitate. I wasn’t exactly in the mood for another cryptic exchange.Instead, I did what any reasonable person would do in a time of crisis: I walked over to the window.I pulled back the curtain with a little more force than necessary and peered outside. There he was, stand

Ian’s POVMona took a step forward, her voice trembling with anger. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You expect Ian to just hire you as a cook after everything that’s happened? After the way you’re acting right now?”The woman’s lips curled into a thin smile, and for a moment, I almost felt sorry for her. But only for a moment. “You don’t understand. I’ll forgive him. But only if he makes this right.”I turned to Mona, my mind spinning. She was fuming, her fists clenched so tightly that her knuckles were white. “This isn’t how this works,” she muttered under her breath. “This isn’t how you get justice. You don’t hold him hostage and demand a job.”I shook my head, looking at the woman with the kind of exhaustion only someone who had been through this much could understand. “Listen, I don’t care what you think you deserve, but you don’t get to make demands like this. I’m not taking you on just to get out of your petty vendetta.”The woman took a step toward me, her voice dropping to a low

Author’s POVMona’s fingers gripped the doorknob so tightly, her knuckles turned white as she stormed down the stairs, her heart thudding with frustration. The nerve of Ian, treating her like some servant just to get the job done. After all these years of holding the reins, now he was treating her like she was disposable. She could feel the anger bubbling up inside her as she reached the bottom of the stairs, practically shaking with annoyance.Slamming the door behind her, Mona whipped around, her hair flying like a wild storm. How dare he, how dare he, just dismiss her like that! It wasn’t like she had nothing better to do than watch Ian and Flynn stare each other down in that godforsaken house. She had a life, damn it.But no, it wasn’t the time for pouting. She turned back to the door. Maybe she could still catch a glimpse, listen in. She’d been around long enough to know that Ian’s cool façade was always hiding something, and that man—Flynn—had “revenge” written all over him. Mon