All Chapters of Claimed by the billionaire : Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

ELIZABETH POV Three weeks had passed since Christian told me he would be busy with work. Three weeks of him claiming it was just business, but God help me, I knew work was not the only thing consuming him. I could not prove it, not yet, but the distance between us screamed secrets. We shared a bedroom, yet it felt like we were strangers. He came home so late I was already asleep, and by the time I woke, he was gone, leaving nothing but the faint scent of whiskey and his cologne on the sheets. In the first week, he took Hope and me on a date—a rare flicker of the man I loved. We laughed over pizza, Hope’s giggles filling the air, but halfway through, his phone buzzed, and his face hardened. “I have to go,” he said, and just like that, Dan drove us home. My little girl, so sweet, so understanding, did not complain, even when her daddy disappeared again. On weekends, when Christian was home but barricaded in his study, Hope would pause at his door, her small hand hovering. “I

ELIZABETH POV “What are you doing?” I snapped, my voice shaky, torn between fury and the way his touch was driving me half-mad, heat pooling low in my belly. I was supposed to be pissed, not melting like some lovesick fool. “Shh,” he murmured, shutting me up with that infuriatingly smug tone, his finger grazing closer to the corner of my lips, teasing, taunting, like he knew exactly how close I was to losing it. “You look so damn hot when you’re jealous,” he said, his voice dripping with that teasing, dark edge, his eyes glinting with amusement, like he was enjoying every second of my unraveling. Oh, hell no. This man had the nerve to find this whole mess entertaining? Here I was, heart pounding, torn between wanting to slap him and wanting to pull him closer. I opened my mouth to sling something sharp back, but his finger slid across my lips, pressing in, demanding. My breath hitched, and before I could stop myself, I sucked his finger deep, my tongue swirling around i

ELIZABETH POV A few days after my father’s visit, my head was a mess, spinning with thoughts I couldn’t sort out. I’d told Grandma that Hope would stay with her for a while. She asked why, but I couldn’t say it out loud. I couldn’t tell her I wasn’t sure I could raise Hope with Christian anymore. Not when I was starting to believe he was a killer. These past few days had been a wake-up call. I usually avoided the internet, but I’d been glued to it, digging through headlines about Christian. His business rivals were dropping like flies—bankruptcies, scandals, all with whispers of his name tied to them. It was bad news after bad news, and it all pointed back to him. I sat on the bed, hunched over my laptop, hands propping up my chin. Christian was back from his so-called business trip—I’d seen it on the news four hours ago—but he still wasn’t home. Probably off somewhere, planning who to take down next. My father had said Christian killed Adrian’s father. The blogs called it

CHRISTIAN POV The hallway was loud with Paul’s lapdogs—his business partners, just a bunch of loyal followers. Peter, the bastard who almost married Elizabeth stood tall, giving me a dirty look. Adrian stayed back, looking nervous. Elizabeth’s father leaned on the wall, his smug smile making me mad. They were all here to support Paul, but I was here to bring him down. Paul walked out of a side room, his lawyer right behind him. I locked eyes with him and smirked. “You finally crawled out of hiding,” I said, my voice sharp and angry. He ran after trying to touch Elizabeth. He’s done. He laughed, a mean sound. “You think you can beat me, boy? You’re weak.” My hands balled into fists, anger burning inside. “Keep talking, Paul. You’ll be going back to your prison soon.” He’ll pay for everything he did. Elizabeth’s father walked over, grinning. “How’s your marriage, Christian? Did my daughter finally see you’re a monster?” My blood boiled. “Are you happy now? Enjoy it for i

ELIZABETH POV I sank into Tessa’s couch, my stomach doing flips like it had for days. I’d bolted from Christian’s house—our house—hours ago, my second runaway act this year. Hope was safe with my grandma, and I wasn’t about to drag my little girl through this mess while I figured out if my husband was a killer. My father had called earlier, I don’t know what he wants but he’s been acting extra nice, his call before I left the house still rang in my ears: “Christian’s finished, Elizabeth. His brother Luca said he’s a drug addict, plotting to murder Paul. There’s a recording—he said Paul’s going to jail and he’ll die by his hands.” My chest tightened, nausea crawling up my throat. Is Christian really that far gone? Tessa walked in, tossing me a soda, her hair a mess. “Second time you’ve bailed on your husband’s house this year, huh?” She grinned, sitting next to me. “One more and you’re in the Guinness Book for fastest wife escape.” I smirked, holding the soda but not drinki