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Chapter 8: The Charity Gala
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2025-07-24 22:23:10
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The Billionaire's Broken Bride Chapter 39: Between Love And Betrayal
I couldn’t breathe. The silence after Ethan’s words was worse than the shouting, worse than the fury in his eyes. He was just standing there, clutching Evelyn’s diary to his chest like it was the last piece of him that still mattered. And maybe it was. My lips trembled. I wanted to say something... anything...to break the awful stillness stretching between us, but my throat had locked shut. “I trusted you,” he said finally. His voice wasn’t loud this time. No, it was worse...quiet, tired, so full of disappointment it cut deeper than anger ever could. “And you went through the one place I told you never to touch.” I wrapped my arms around myself, as if I could hold in the panic spiraling through me. “Ethan, I had to. You weren’t telling me anything. Do you understand what it feels like? To wake up next to someone you don’t know if you can believe?” His jaw flexed, his eyes flashing. “You think I don’t carry that burden every single day? You think this is easy for me? Keeping thin
The Billionaire's Broken Bride Chapter 38: The Forbidden Files
The mansion was too quiet that night. Silence draped itself over the hallways like a shroud, broken only by the faint ticking of the grandfather clock downstairs. Ethan had retreated to his private study earlier, but when I passed by hours later, the door was closed, the light beneath it extinguished. He had gone to bed...or so I hoped. My heart was a storm in my chest. Nathaniel’s words from the gala hadn’t left me. Ask him what happened the night she died. They repeated in my head, sharper each time, until I could barely think of anything else. And Miguel’s warning, his so-called proof, had only made the shadows thicker. Everywhere I turned, Evelyn’s ghost seemed to follow me. I should have gone upstairs. I should have crawled into bed beside my husband and pretended everything was normal. Pretended that I trusted him. But the truth was, I couldn’t...not when the questions clawed at me, not when my instincts screamed that the answers were locked away in the one place Ethan neve
The Billionaire's Broken Bride Chapter 37: The Gala Of Lies
I had attended countless events since marrying Ethan, but nothing felt heavier than the gown on my shoulders that night. It wasn’t the fabric or the jewels...it was the weight of whispers I knew would follow us the moment we stepped into the ballroom. The gala was a fortress of glitter and secrets. Crystal chandeliers spilled light over silk-draped tables, the air thick with perfume, champagne, and carefully veiled cruelty. The city’s elite had gathered in their finest armor: gowns that shimmered like fire, tuxedos sharp enough to cut. And in the middle of it all, we were the spectacle. Ethan’s hand rested firmly on my lower back as we entered, his presence a wall of quiet power. His mask was flawless...cold, commanding, untouchable. But I felt the tension beneath his skin, the way his body seemed carved from stone, every movement too precise. I knew why. It hadn’t even been a week since I’d seen Miguel. Since the seed of doubt had taken root inside me. I hadn’t told Ethan, and t
The Billionaire's Broken Bride Chapter 36: The Trap
I thought the discovery of Evelyn’s files in Ethan’s office had already shaken me to my core. But the universe, it seemed, wasn’t finished twisting the knife. Miguel found me again. It started innocently or maybe nothing with him could ever be innocent. I had gone out alone that afternoon, desperate for air, desperate for silence away from the suffocating presence of Ethan’s mansion walls. I told myself it was only a walk, a brief escape, but deep down I knew I was running from the man who shared my bed, from the secrets that had begun to seep through the cracks of his carefully constructed world. The café was small, tucked between a bookstore and a flower shop, quiet enough to lose myself in. I thought I was safe there. But when I looked up from the rim of my coffee cup, he was already standing across from me. Miguel Santos. The man who had warned me before. The man whose presence always felt like a shadow stretching too close. “Do you mind?” he asked, his tone smooth, his dark
The Billionaire's Broken Bride Chapter 35: The Weight Of Secrets
The silence between us was louder than any gunfire, heavier than any storm. My hands were still trembling when I closed the folder I had no business opening. I could feel the weight of it in my chest—those neatly stacked documents, photographs, fragments of another woman’s life carefully hidden away in Ethan’s private drawer. Evelyn Navarro. Her name was inked on every page like a shadow refusing to fade. And in that moment, it wasn’t the danger outside, or the men chasing us, or even the chaos of the last few days that terrified me most—it was the possibility that my husband, the man I had been trying so desperately to understand, was a stranger all along. I lifted my gaze. Ethan was standing in the doorway of his study, broad shoulders rigid, jaw clenched so tightly a muscle ticked in his cheek. His eyes were on me, but not with the warmth I’d grown used to in our quieter moments. This gaze was sharp, guarded, as if he’d already prepared for this confrontation long before it happ
The Billionaire's Broken Bride Chapter 34: Into The Shadows
I couldn’t stop shaking. My arms were wrapped tight around Isla, her tiny body pressed against me like she was the last fragile thread keeping me tethered to this world. Her breathing was shallow, broken hiccups escaping every few seconds, but she wasn’t crying anymore. She was too exhausted for that. The underground chamber smelled of rust and stagnant water. My clothes clung to my skin, damp and cold, my heart still hammering in a rhythm I couldn’t quiet. It echoed in my ears like the footsteps from above had followed us down here. Ethan stood in front of us, his back straight, his eyes locked on the darkness that swallowed the far end of the chamber. His gun never lowered, his finger resting on the trigger guard, steady in a way I couldn’t comprehend. He wasn’t just prepared to fight—he was waiting for it. I hated that I found comfort in that. The woman crouched near the wall, her knife resting across her knees. I still didn’t know her name, only her voice and the glint in her
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