บททั้งหมดของ The Rich Man's Proxy Marriage: บทที่ 41 - บทที่ 50

Holden didn’t tell Elena where he was going.He only cupped her cheek—still damp from hours of silent crying—kissed her forehead, and whispered,“I’ll bring something back. Answers. Or blood.”Then he left.Now, standing in front of the Xia estate, Holden understood why people called the family “untouchable.”The mansion was cold, towering, and immaculate—like a museum of power designed to remind visitors how small they were.Except Holden wasn’t small.Not today.A guard tried to block him at the door.“Sir, the Xia family doesn’t—”Holden didn’t even look at him.He simply said, “Move.”Something in his voice—quiet, lethal—made the man step aside as though commanded by instinct rather than reason.The Xia family sat in their grand receiving hall as if they’d been expecting him.Madam Xia in an ivory cheongsam, posture perfect.Mr. Xia with his aged but calculating eyes.Xavier Xia, their golden boy, leaning back with a smirk that Holden wanted to tear off.“Mr. Vale,” Madam Xia gree

The air cracked like lightning.Holden and Lucian stood facing each other across the burned foundation, two storm fronts locked on collision course—two men who shared the same surname, but none of the same blood.Elena felt the tension hit her chest like a physical force.Holden Vale. Lucian Vale.One was the man who saved her now. The other was the man who had saved her then.And both radiated the dangerous, possessive fury of men who feared losing her.Holden stepped forward first.Not running. Not lunging. Just one slow, measured step that felt more threatening than a shouted threat.His voice was lethal calm.“Explain yourself.”Lucian didn’t flinch. But his hand subtly moved—pushing Elena slightly behind him, the gesture instinctive, protective.Holden’s jaw tightened at the sight.“Don’t touch her,” he said, voice dropping to a warning growl.Lucian’s eyes flickered. “I’m her father.”“You’re a stranger.” Holden countered coldly. “And you appear the moment she remembers you?

Elena fell asleep so quickly it frightened Holden.One moment she was trembling in his arms, her breathing shallow from the weight of memories she could barely process; the next, her lashes fluttered, and exhaustion pulled her into unconsciousness.Holden kept holding her until her body finally relaxed. Until her fingers—which had clutched his shirt like she was afraid of disappearing—slowly loosened.He laid her gently on the bed.She didn't stir.A cold dread knifed through him.She looked too fragile. Too pale. Too young to have survived the horrors she was just beginning to remember.Holden sat beside her and brushed stray strands of hair from her cheek, his jaw tightening.He hated this.He hated seeing her like this.He hated that someone had hurt her long before he arrived in her life.And he hated, most of all, the disturbing instinct clawing at his chest:I should’ve been the one protecting you all along.But the past didn’t care what he should have done.All he could do w

Holden didn’t sleep.Elena did—finally—breathing softly under the warm lamplight. But Holden’s blood was already moving with a sharp, calculated rhythm. The rusted button sat on the table beneath the glow, small and almost pathetic in appearance.If he didn’t know its history, he might’ve dismissed it.But Holden Vale never dismissed anything.He opened his laptop, fingers moving fast and precise across the keyboard. A series of encrypted windows flashed open—Vale Family intel networks, private archives, old investigations tied to missing children cases.The same case line that had first led him to Elena years ago.And now… back to her again.1. The Button That Shouldn’t ExistHolden zoomed in on the object, rotating it under a digital lens.Hand-stitched. Antique. Design dated back at least twenty years—too old for modern clothing.More importantly: it was identical to the ones reported missing from the uniform of a certain man after a violent altercation near the Xia estate long ag

1. The Moment the World TiltsStolen.The word didn’t just echo in Elena’s mind—it split something open.Stolen. Not abandoned. Not forgotten. Not unwanted.Taken.Her vision blurred. Her knees buckled. She grabbed the railing of the terrace as the city lights shuddered and fractured before her eyes.“Elena—Elena, look at me.” Holden grasped her shoulders, grounding her. “Breathe.”But she couldn’t.Her chest constricted like invisible hands were crushing her ribs. Her head pounded—memory shards slicing through:—warm arms carrying her through smoke —someone shouting, “Take her! NOW!” —a cry she didn’t understand —fire eating the walls —and a hand grabbing her wrist so hard she screamed—She staggered backward.“I— I don’t—” Her voice broke. “Holden, I don’t know who I am.”Holden cupped her face with both hands, forcing her eyes to meet his.“You’re Elena,” he said firmly. “And nothing changes that.”She shook her head desperately. “If I was stolen… then everything in my lif