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CHAPTER 172.
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2025-09-12 23:54:19
Latest chapter
Marrying The Domineering Billionaire In My Sister’s Place 175.
Marcus’s POV. The days blurred together in here, each one as heavy as the last. It had been two weeks since I was locked in this place, two weeks since Henry’s words had carried me through the fear, and yet the walls were beginning to speak louder than his promises. Every morning the guards came, every day the same questions, the same attempts to break me, and still, I kept my mouth shut. They wanted me to confess, to say Jenna’s name with guilt in my voice, but I refused. I told myself that Henry would come, that he would send someone, that he would not leave me rotting in this cage. He had promised, and I clung to that promise like a drowning man holding to a piece of wood, but my faith was starting to tear apart. The cell stank of sweat and damp, and the food left no taste in my mouth. The only thing that gave me a distraction was the newspaper I had managed to get through one of the other inmates. It was passed into my hands quietly, as if it were a treasure, and for me, i
Marrying The Domineering Billionaire In My Sister’s Place CHAPTER 175.
Marcus’s POV.The days blurred together in here, each one as heavy as the last. It had been two weeks since I was locked in this place, two weeks since Henry’s words had carried me through the fear, and yet the walls were beginning to speak louder than his promises. Every morning the guards came, every day the same questions, the same attempts to break me, and still, I kept my mouth shut.They wanted me to confess, to say Jenna’s name with guilt in my voice, but I refused. I told myself that Henry would come, that he would send someone, that he would not leave me rotting in this cage. He had promised, and I clung to that promise like a drowning man holding to a piece of wood, but my faith was starting to tear apart.The cell stank of sweat and damp, and the food left no taste in my mouth. The only thing that gave me a distraction was the newspaper I had managed to get through one of the other inmates. It was passed into my hands quietly, as if it were a treasure, and for me, it was.
Marrying The Domineering Billionaire In My Sister’s Place CHAPTER 173.
Henry’s POV.It had been two weeks since Jenna’s death and I was a nervous wreck. My life had become a series of long nights and longer days where every sound felt like a warning, every knock like the police waiting to drag me away. I tried to tell myself that everything was under control, that Marcus had already taken the blame, but the news never stopped talking about it. The case had blown up more than I ever expected. Jenna wasn’t just any woman, she was the daughter of an old wealthy family who were now using their money and influence to dig deeper than the police ever would. Private investigators had been hired, stories were printed in the papers, and her name was on every screen I turned to.I could not breathe without feeling the noose of fear around my neck.“Sir, you need to calm down,” one of my lawyers told me as I paced around the office. “Panicking is what will get you caught. As long as you keep your distance from Marcus, there is nothing to fear.”I turned to him, my
Marrying The Domineering Billionaire In My Sister’s Place CHAPTER 172.
Natasha’s POVThe moment I stepped out of his study, I felt like the walls were closing in on me. My chest ached and my legs felt unsteady, but I pushed myself to keep walking as if nothing was wrong. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how much his words had shattered me. The rejection in his eyes, the chill in his voice, the disgust behind every syllable—each one pierced deeper than I could stand.I had gone in there hoping, even if only a little, that he might allow me to stand beside him, that he might let me ease his burden, even if just by listening. But all he saw was pretense, all he heard in my voice was false concern. He hated me for a mistake I couldn’t undo, and no matter how much I tried to reach for him, he only pushed me further away.By the time I reached the hallway, my vision was blurring. I pressed my back against the wall, shutting my eyes for a moment, but the heaviness in my chest didn’t lift. If I stayed in that house a moment longer, I knew I wo
Marrying The Domineering Billionaire In My Sister’s Place CHAPTER 171.
Sylvester’s POV.I sat slumped in my chair, the dim light of the study casting long shadows across the room. My eyes lingered on the glass of water Natasha had left earlier, still untouched on the corner of the desk. The sight of it stirred nothing but bitterness in me.She kept forcing this picture of care, hovering around as though she could erase everything by cooking meals and pretending she gave a damn. I could still feel the sting of betrayal from the night she had believed Jenna’s lies over me. She hadn’t trusted me enough to even ask for the truth, and that wound was deeper than any fever or weakness of the body.I rubbed my temples, anger simmering just beneath my skin. Her soft words, her anxious eyes, and her trembling hands when she tried to care for me—it all disgusted me now. If she had cared then, truly cared, she wouldn’t have abandoned me so quickly, leaving me worrying to death over what was never worth worrying in the first place. Leaving me to face isolation and
Marrying The Domineering Billionaire In My Sister’s Place CHAPTER 170.
Natasha’s POVWhen I came home that evening, I walked into the dining room hoping—just hoping—that he might have softened a little, that maybe the silence in the house meant he had finally touched the food. My heart lifted for a second when I saw the table. But then it sank.The plates I had set earlier that morning were still there, untouched, as cold as the marble counter they sat on. The eggs had dried, the sausages shriveled, and the toast stiff as paper. He hadn’t so much as looked at them.I stood frozen in the doorway, my chest tightening until it hurt to breathe. All my effort, all the care I had poured into that simple act, had been for nothing. I had thought he would at least be tempted—he loved my cooking too much to resist, or at least that was what I had told myself while I whisked and fried and prayed. But the evidence before me proved otherwise. I pressed my hand against my mouth, forcing myself not to cry right there. I was tired of crying and breaking down. If I fel
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