The Billionaire’s Fight For Redemption (Noah and Sierra) novel Chapter 211

Chapter 211

His eyes are distant. Like he’s here physically but mentally trapped somewhere far away. Somewhere where Chloe is still alive.

I swallow hard, my gaze sweeping the room again. The room It isn’t just frozen in time. It’s a shrine.

A graveyard of memories he refuses to bury.

I can’t stop the gasp that escapes my lips as everything inside me becomes unbearably heavy.

It rips out of me before I can clamp a hand over my mouth but the damage is done.

Noah’s head snaps toward the door, eyes narrowing, his whole body going still.

Shit. Panic hits me and my body moves before my brain does. I bolt. Not to my room, like someone with common sense. No. My genius instinct is to sprint downstairs.

By the time I reach the kitchen, my lungs burn. My heart is pounding so violently, it feels like it’s about to punch out of my lungs.

I brace both hands on the counter, dragging in shaky breaths, while trying to convince myself he didn’t see me.

“Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to spy on others?”

I whirl around so fast I almost snap my own neck.

He stands in the doorway, hands on his hips, expression unreadable but eyes locked on me with a sharp, unsettling clarity.

My stomach drops, and I swallow hard. “I—I wasn’t spying.”

I should have run to my room instead of the one place he would obviously check.

Noah raises a brow. “Really? You’re going to go with that?”

I expected him to be completely pissed off. To yell at me and say a couple of mean things like he usually does, but

I get nothing. He looks calm, even though his gaze is indifferent.

“I came down for a cup of cocoa since I couldn’t sleep,” I mutter, dropping my gaze. “I swear I didn’t see anything.”

He lets out a breath. “You’ve always been a terrible liar, Sierra.”

I don’t know what I expected next, but it definitely wasn’t Noah turning away from me, opening the fridge.

Pulling out a carton of milk.

I watch in stunned silence as he grabs a small pot, pours the milk, and sets it on the stove. He moves like this is normal. Like making midnight cocoa for the woman carrying his child is something he does every night.

I lean against the counter, staring at him like he’s grown a second head.

“What… what are you doing?” I ask quietly.

He doesn’t look at me. “Making cocoa.”

“You didn’t have to do that. I could have done it myself,” I murmur, my eyes flicking from the steaming milk to

his face.

1/2

Chapter 211

+25 Bonus

“It’s no problem,” he answers quietly, still not looking at me. “I couldn’t sleep either, so maybe a cup will help

me too.”

Silence settles between us. We both watch the pot. When it’s ready, he pours two cups, adds cocoa, then sugar.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify