The Billionaire’s Fight For Redemption (Noah and Sierra) novel Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Lilly answers on the third ring, her voice clipped. “What do you want?”

“I need Sierra’s number,” I said flatly.

Silence. Then, “Why?”

“I have something to discuss with her.”

Her tone sharpens instantly. “If this is about the pregnancy, Noah-

“It is,” I cut in.

A tense pause, and then she threatens, “I swear if you upset her, I’ll fucking castrate you, Noah… I’ll make sure your child with Si will be the last kid you’ll ever have.” 2

I snort at her threat. She says that like it’s a bad thing. Nolan and Nova are the only children I will ever have. In fact, I should look into getting a fucking vasectomy.

“Just send the number, Lilly.”

She mutters something under her breath before hanging up. Ten seconds later, her text pops up on my screen.

I slide the phone into my pocket and start the car, my pulse pounding and nervousness clinging to me like a fucking leech.

I drive like a man possessed. My hands grip the wheel hard enough to ache, eyes fixed unseeing on the road ahead. Streetlights streaked past, but my mind is already with Sierra, replaying every possible conversation we might have. Every mile I close between me and home makes the coil in my chest tighten.

When I finally pull into the driveway, the twins are already half–asleep. Nolan barely stirs when I carry him into the house, his hand curling around my finger before I gently freeing it. Nova mumbles something incoherent as I tuck her in, brushing her hair back from her forehead

The moment the moment their door clicks shut behind me, I’m already dialing Sierra.

She answers on the fourth ring, her voice groggy with sleep. “Hello?”

My pulse increases at how sweet and innocent her voice sounds. If only she were like that. If only she wasn’t a two–faced, conniving bitch.

“What did you tell my mother about the pregnancy?” I snap, skipping any kind of greeting. There wasn’t any need anyway. Someone like Sierra doesn’t deserve any kind of consideration or respect.

There was a pause. “Noah?”

“Yes! Now answer my damn question.”

Her voice cools instantly. “What right do you have calling me and demanding answers to questions I have no idea about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. If you don’t answer me, I’ll-”

Before I even finish the threat, the line

goes

dead.

For a second, I just stare at the phone, the silence roaring in my ears. I blink in disbelief, still shocked by her audacity.

She fucking hung up on me. I can’t believe she has the nerve to hang up on me. Who the fuck does she think she is?

The shock evaporates fast, leaving a hot, ugly, burning anger in its place.

“How dare she?” I growl, the words tearing out of me with a ferocity I can barely contain.

I need to talk to her. If she won’t talk to me through the phone, then I’ll go to her.

I’m halfway to grabbing my keys, ready to drive to her and rip the truth from her lying lips myself, when a softer voice cut in.

“Noah? What’s wrong?”

I turn to find Brook standing in the hallway, drowning in an oversized sweater, hair mussed from sleep, but her eyes, sharp and steady, are locked on me.

“Nothing,” I say automatically.

Her mouth curves in a humorless little knowing smile. “You can’t lie to me. I know you too well. You’re pissed about something.”

I’ve known Brook for as long as I’ve known Chloe. She was there through every step of my relationship with Chloe. She was close to her sister and because of that I became close to her too. I consider her my sister in every way, not just through marriage. 1

One of the things Chloe made me promise on her dying bed was that I’d protect and look after Brook long after she’s gone. That’s what I’ve been doing and will continue to do until my dying breath. The moment I married Chloe, Brook became part of my family.

She walks toward me slowly, each step deliberate, her eyes steady on mine. She then takes my hand and tugs me toward the couch. “Come on. Sit and tell me what’s bothering you

I sit tense and wound up, still vibrating with anger. She might be three years younger than me, but in that moment, she looks every bit as composed as someone who could hold the ground in any conversation.

And for some reason I can’t explain, I tell her everything. The pregnancy. The fight. Sierra’s reaction. My own reaction. Every single fucking thing. 1

“I didn’t mean to betray your sister,” I finish, my voice low and full of the weight of guilt. “I wasn’t in my right mind that night.”

Brook’s expression doesn’t so much as flicker into shock or judgement. She just leans back, eyes assessing me like she’s weighing each word. “I understand. And I don’t blame you for it.”

Something inside me eases, like a screw that had been tightened too far finally letting go.

“I blame Sierra,” she says, her eyes narrowing. “She probably wants to baby trap you.” 2

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