All Chapters of THE RETURN OF THE TRILLIONAIRE HEIR: Chapter 71
- Chapter 80
98 chapters
Chapter Seventy- one
Melinda stormed into her apartment, the door slamming behind her with a force that made the frames on the walls rattle. Her bags thudded against the floor, sliding across the tiles as she kicked them aside, her chest tight with a mix of anger and humiliation. Every step she took felt heavier than the last, as if the air itself had thickened around her, pressing down on her lungs and making each breath jagged and hot. Her mind replayed the girls’ cruel words over and over, sharper than any knife. Their laughter, their smirks, the way they had turned to look at her as if she were nothing—it all seared her memory. And then, inevitably, her thoughts landed on Rico. The confidence he exuded, the way people deferred to him, the way his presence commanded the room—it all made her stomach twist with a regret she couldn’t swallow. She had wanted to shine, to feel powerful and admired, and instead… she felt small. From the bedroom, Ramon emerged, his steps quiet, almost cautious. He ha
Chapter Seventy-Two
After the donation, Rico noticed Dr. Harry’s face, and something in the man’s expression made him pause, even if only for a fraction of a second. Suspicion laced the doctor’s gaze, mingled with curiosity so subtle it almost passed for politeness. The way his eyes lingered on the blood bag, the faint twitch of his fingers as if he wanted to reach out, touch it, confirm something unspoken—it was all too telling. Rico felt the weight of it pressing down on him, a quiet, insistent scrutiny that made the hairs on his neck stand on end. He pretended not to notice. That had always been his way: a calm mask, a practiced neutrality that hid every pulse, every quiver of recognition. “Dr. Harry, are we done?” Rico’s voice was smooth, even, but his ears caught the tiny catch in the man’s throat, the subtle hitch in his breath. “E—emhh… are we?” Dr. Harry stammered, turning his back slightly, as if shielding himself from the glow. “I mean… sorry, Master Rico. We are done,” he added quickly
Chapter Seventy- Three
The office hadn’t recovered from what had happened. Rico had walked out hours ago, but the air still carried the weight of his departure, thick and suffocating. The hum of computers, the faint shuffle of papers, even the soft whir of the air conditioning sounded louder than usual, intrusive in a way that made every movement, feel amplified. People hovered around desks, tapping keys, pretending to work, normally, their eyes darting nervously toward the doors as if expecting Rico to storm back at any second.Aaron stood in the center of it all, feeling unreal, as if someone had pressed pause on the world and left him in the middle of it. His pulse thudded in his ears, a relentless drum that seemed to echo his disbelief. His palms were damp, the lingering adrenaline refusing to subside. He couldn’t stop replaying the moment Rico had turned to him:“You need a better position, don’t you?”“You’ve earned it.”Simple words, clear and unwavering, but they carried a weight he hadn’t antici
Chapter Seventy-Four
Melinda paced back and forth across the room, the sound of her shoes tapping softly against the tiles. She wasn’t walking for exercise or to burn energy—her body simply wouldn’t settle. Her palms were damp, and she kept rubbing them up and down her arms, trying to stop the trembling that kept coming back. Her chest felt tight, not painfully, but enough for her to notice that breathing took more effort than usual. She bit down on her lower lip, thinking hard, trying to convince herself she was overreacting, but the uneasiness wouldn’t go away. Her phone lay on the dining table, just sitting there, but it felt like it was staring at her. She knew she needed to do something. She had already replayed the same thoughts in her head for close to an hour. Pacing wasn’t helping. Panicking wasn’t helping. Silence definitely wasn’t helping. Finally, she walked toward the phone. Her fingers brushed over it, cool and smooth, but when she picked it up, her hands trembled again. The devic
Chapter Seventy-Five
The doctor walked toward his office with Damian following him closely, their footsteps echoing down the corridor. The hallway felt colder than usual, as if the entire hospital were holding its breath. The doctor tried to keep his pace steady, but every few steps, tension gripped his chest a little tighter. He didn’t look back. He could feel Damian’s presence behind him, silent, heavy and intense. The kind of presence that made the air feel thick. When they stepped into the office, the doctor waited for the door to click shut. As soon as it did, he finally let out the breath he’d been holding. His shoulders dropped slightly, but the relief didn’t last long. The room felt small and Damian’s presence filled it like a storm cloud. Damian didn’t sit. He stepped forward, folding his arms across his chest, his eyes fixed on the doctor with unsettling sharpness. “You know what to do,” he said, voice low and controlled. “Get the blood quickly and hand it to me later. No delays.” T
Chapter Seventy-Six
Dr. Harry froze, his hand hovering over the pulsating bag of blood hidden beneath the drawer of his desk. The glow leaked faintly around the edges, pulsing with an unnatural light that seemed almost alive, and his chest tightened as if the very warmth beneath his palm were pressing against him. Every heartbeat thundered in his ears, each one louder than the last, and he felt a sudden, choking panic creeping up his throat. BANG! BANG! BANG! “Doctor Harry!” The pounding of the office door jolted him further. With a shaking hand, he shoved the bag fully into the drawer and slammed it shut. His fingers pressed flat against the wood, forcing it flush, willing the glow to vanish, but the faint red shimmer persisted, stubborn and defiant. He swallowed hard and took a trembling step toward the door, smoothing his lab coat in a vain attempt to appear calm. His legs felt like lead, and the sweat prickling at his temples made the world feel suddenly claustrophobic. The door burs
Chapter Seventy-Seven
Diana walked out of Doctor Harry’s office with her pulse still beating far too fast. She kept her steps steady, measured, disciplined—anything to stop the trembling gathering beneath her skin. Her hands were slightly damp, her breathing shallow, and she could still feel the strange weight of the doctor’s eyes lingering on her, as if he somehow knew she sensed something was wrong. The hallway was quiet, which was usual since the hospital was always busy, and that only made the tension inside her tighter. She pressed her clipboard against her chest like a shield, swallowing hard. She had worked in that hospital for three years. She knew how the building sounded, especially at mornings. She knew when things were off. And something about Doctor Harry’s behavior had been wrong—very wrong. He had looked at her like a man caught in a lie he hadn’t prepared for. And that alone made her want answers. She reached the nurses’ computer station, her fingers trembling slightly as she
Chapter Seventy-Eight
Melinda froze the instant she heard Ramon’s voice. The sound cut through the quiet apartment like a blade. Her heart skipped a beat, and her fingers tightened around her phone. Slowly, almost too slowly, she turned toward him. Ramon stood in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, his face set in a mask of anger and suspicion. The dim light from the hallway threw shadows across his features, sharpening the sharp lines of his jaw and the dark storm brewing in his eyes. He didn’t say a word at first, and the silence between them pressed down on her chest, making it hard to breathe. Then he spoke, his voice low, steady, and dangerous in a way that made Melinda’s stomach twist. “You’re cheating on me, aren’t you? Calling your boyfriend?” Her mouth went dry. “What? Ramon, what do you mean?” she asked, her voice trembling despite her effort to stay composed. He took a slow step into the room, and every movement seemed deliberate, measured, like a predator closing in. “You heard
Chapter Seventy-Nine
The door slammed open, jerking Dr. Harry back as if a gust of wind had shoved him. “Sorry, Doctor Harry, but we need to search your office,” one of the security officers said, his voice clipped, eyes scanning the room with an unflinching intensity. Harry’s chest tightened, a cold knot forming in his stomach. His palms were slick with sweat, and every nerve screamed. He forced his legs to stay rooted, though his instincts screamed to flee. The faint glow beneath the drawer pulsed against his palm like it had a heartbeat of its own, mocking him with every pulse. “Why is that?” he asked, striving for calm. The words sounded hollow to his own ears, like an echo in a cavern. “We received a report that you took a blood donation from one of the West family,” the officer replied, voice steady, though Harry noticed his eyes flicking to the corners of the office, scanning for irregularities. Harry’s stomach twisted painfully. His throat went dry, and he forced a neutral expression o
Chapter Eighty
Harry did not move. For a long, tense moment, it felt as though the entire world had paused to watch him. The office was oppressively quiet. The air was heavy and still, and even the faint hum of the overhead lights seemed to pierce his ears. His heart thudded against his chest in a staccato rhythm that made every nerve in his body tremble. Each beat felt like a drum of warning, echoing painfully in his skull, alerting him to a danger he could neither name nor avoid. The voice came again, calm and deliberate, carrying an unnerving authority. “You did very well, Doctor.” Harry froze completely, as if a sudden weight had been placed on his shoulders. He turned his head slowly, eyes narrowing, unsure whether he was ready to face the intruder. His vision blurred at the edges, but the figure that stepped into the room remained sharply in focus. Nr. Diana. Of course it was Diana—the same one who had come with a complaint about the blood, the one he had asked to check the logs.