My Billionaire Boyfriend Went Mad After I Left

Three years together, and my boyfriend, Julian Thorne, still acted like a Puritan in bed.Even in the heat of the moment, he never let me kiss him. He always made me turn my back to him, like looking at my face was some kind of sin.Today was supposed to be the day I funded the newly established "Vance Charity Foundation." But when I logged into the company account, I was locked out. A notification popped up on the screen: [Vance Industries Acquisition Complete. New Owner: Thorne Group].I went straight to the top floor of the Thorne Group to get answers.Maybe it was fate, but the secretary wasn't at her desk. The heavy mahogany doors to the CEO's office were slightly ajar.I was about to push the door open when I heard a low voice from inside. I froze, my hand hovering in mid-air.Through the crack, I stared into the office that symbolized the peak of Manhattan's power.The man who was usually so polite and distant with me—who barely even held my hand—was half-kneeling on the floor.

"Elara, you might belong to Julian, but this is Seraphina's turf."Linda blocked my path at the boarding gate of the *Nirvana*. She dangled a piece of fabric that barely qualified as a bunny suit, wearing a smile that didn't reach her eyes."You know Seraphina's friends are here tonight. They all know about... the past. To prove you're not stuck-up and are truly sorry, Seraphina thinks it would be best if you served the guests.""I figure you can swallow your pride for the sake of patching things up, right?"I stared at the humiliating costume and turned to leave."What? Cold feet?" Linda leaned in, her voice dropping to a hiss. "Your dying father's medical bills depend entirely on Julian. Walk away now, and Seraphina gets upset. If she whispers in Julian's ear... well, you do the math."I clenched my fists until my nails bit into my palms. For Dad, I had no choice.Changing into that degrading outfit, I walked onto the deck with a champagne tray. The biting sea wind sliced right throu

Outside the emergency room at Mount Sinai Hospital, the white walls were as cold as a morgue freezer.*Tick, tock, tick, tock...*The wall clock marched on, each second feeling like a boot stomping on my carotid artery.The money from the underground lender arrived fast; the broker was efficient. But I was still too late.Just as the expensive shot of adrenaline was pushed into his veins, the curve on the monitor flattened into a piercing, endless line.*Beeeeeeep—*That long, high-pitched tone announced the total collapse of my world.The lead surgeon pushed open the door and pulled down his mask, his face etched with deep regret and helplessness."Miss Vance, I am so sorry. The patient arrived too late. The intracranial pressure was too high, leading to herniation... If you had been even thirty minutes earlier—no, even ten minutes earlier with the payment—the outcome might have been different."Ten minutes.Just because of those ten minutes.If Julian hadn't questioned me with such a

The morning of the engagement party.Julian stood in front of the mirror adjusting his bow tie. It was a dark crimson, looking just like dried blood. His phone kept vibrating, the name "Seraphina" flashing on the screen."Answer it," I said. I was sitting on the sofa, holding a cup of cold coffee, my tone as casual as if I were discussing the weather.Julian glanced at me, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. He seemed caught off guard that I wasn't throwing a tantrum or giving him the silent treatment like usual. He picked up the phone, his voice instantly turning tender. "Don't worry, Seraphina... I know you're nervous... Is your leg hurting again? Okay, I'm coming to pick you up right now."He hung up and looked at me somewhat unnaturally, explaining with a tone of charitable patience, "Seraphina says her leg is hurting bad. She can't handle the ride to the castle alone. I'm going to pick her up and take her to get her makeup done."It was always like this. Every time Seraphina cried

Inside that black velvet box, there were no rare jewels.There was only a thin piece of paper.Trembling, Julian picked it up.It was a death certificate issued by the New York City Office of Chief Medical Examiner.**Name: Oliver Vance.****Time of Death: Three days ago, 9:15 PM.****Cause of Death: Complications arising from brainstem hemorrhage (due to delayed craniotomy).**Julian stared at the timestamp.In that instant, his pupils vibrated violently, as if that line of black text had stabbed him straight in the eye.Three days ago. 9:15 PM. That was the exact moment he had coldly refused to help me over the phone.It was in that exact moment, because of his mistrust and prejudice, that my father took his last breath."No... this isn't true..."Julian's voice was a broken wheeze squeezed from his throat. He remembered my sobbing on the phone. He remembered the doctor's warning.It hadn't been a lie. It was a desperate cry for help.And he had personally cut the rope.He had ruthle