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Chapter 150: On the Edge
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2025-07-10 00:43:58
Ernest BrooksWhen the final blow is fired… who will the world believe: the monster, or the ones it made? Your comments keep me writing….thank you for the support!
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The Billionaire’s Forgotten Wife Chapter 155: Breaking Point
The boardroom at Thorne International was thick with unease. Twelve faces stared back at Damon, some cloaked in corporate calm, others barbed with veiled disdain. At the head of the table, Damon stood like a fortress under siege, his navy suit immaculate and his gaze unflinching."Let me be clear," he said, his voice composed but laced with steel, "I am not stepping down."A ripple of murmurs passed around the table. Hollis Davenport, a senior partner and longtime investor, leaned forward with his fingers steeped. “Damon, we respect your leadership. But the public backlash, the stock volatility, and now these... new developments—”Damon cut in. “You mean the anonymous leaks. The slander. The orchestrated chaos? We’ve seen worse and survived”.“Not like this,” said Madeline Ross, the company’s chief legal officer. Her tone was measured, but her eyes cut sharply. “There are questions about your ethics. Your judgment. And your ability to separate personal entanglements from corporate deci
The Billionaire’s Forgotten Wife Chapter 154: The Cost of Loyalty
The late afternoon sunlight slanted through the windows of the Thorne Tower penthouse, streaking golden lines across the hardwood floor. But there was no warmth in the air. Juliette paced, phone clutched tightly in her hand, her heels tapping an anxious rhythm as she waited for the call to connect.“Come on, pick up…” she muttered.Finally, a voice answered.“Juliette”.It was Henry Alden, one of Damon’s longtime legal advisors and one of their most trusted allies. Until this morning, when he’d shocked them both by resigning without warning. His message had been brief, impersonal. No explanation. No goodbye. Just a single sentence: I can’t be part of this anymore.“I need to see you,” Juliette said quickly. “Please. Face to face”.A pause. “Juliette, it’s not safe”.“I’m not asking for safe. I’m asking for the truth”.Another beat of silence. Then: “Alright. One hour. Same place we met last year”.The line went dead.---------------------------------------------------------------------
The Billionaire’s Forgotten Wife Chapter 153: Lines in the Sand
The boardroom at the top of Thorne International had never felt so volatile. The tension crackled like static — thick with sleepless nights and the weight of truths no one wanted to speak aloud. Damon Thorne stood at the head of the table, the city skyline blazing behind him, a silent reminder of what was still at stake."This isn’t a strategy meeting," he said, voice like steel. "This is survival. One of you is leaking information. And unless we find out who — it’s over."Silence.Leo Marsh, CFO, shifted in his seat. “Damon, we’ve worked together for nearly a decade. You really think someone here is sabotaging the company?”“I think someone with access is compromising us,” Damon replied flatly. “And unless one of you been hacked, that narrows it to the people in this room”.Juliette Rowe sat to his right, calm but focused. Her gaze swept the room, noting every twitch, every deflection. Trust was no longer assumed. It had to be proven.Cassandra Lin, Head of Global Ops, leaned forward.
The Billionaire’s Forgotten Wife Chapter 152: Whispered Secrets
The rain came down in whispering sheets, cloaking the city in a hush that felt both mournful and ominous. Juliette Rowe sat alone in a shadowed corner booth of a forgotten jazz lounge in Midtown Manhattan. Dim lights cast gold halos on aging brick walls, and the air was laced with cigar smoke and secrets. The distant wail of a saxophone curled through the room, its notes haunting fitting for the ache twisting in her chest.She rechecked the time.9:17 p.m.The message had been anonymous. Chilling in its simplicity.Come alone. No phones. The truth has a voice but only if you’re ready to listen.She’d nearly dismissed it for another trap, another mind game. But the phrase carried weight. It didn’t threaten. It offered. And after everything — the breached vault, the cryptic warnings, the return of Margot Graves; Juliette couldn’t ignore even a sliver of insight.A figure appeared at the door. Tall, lean, wrapped in a long black trench coat. The brim of his hat shadowed his face, but as h
The Billionaire’s Forgotten Wife Chapter 151: Shattered Foundations
The first rays of dawn crept into the Manhattan skyline, painting the horizon in muted hues of gray and gold. Damon Thorne stood in the elevator of Thorne Global, his reflection a fractured portrait in the metallic walls. He had barely slept two hours at most. His mind was a battlefield of strategy, loss, and Juliette’s unwavering gaze as they’d parted after the firestorm in the vault.The war hadn’t ended with the breach. And the next wave came faster than expected.The elevator doors opened with a mechanical chime.And what awaited him shattered whatever resolve he had left.The executive floor; the core of his empire looked like a war zone. Shattered glass crunched beneath his shoes. Framed accolades lay broken, slashed from the walls. Spray paint screamed in jagged red slashes:LIAR. THIEF. TRAITOR.But the worst of it was his office.The double glass doors had been blown inward. His desk was overturned. Drawers gutted. The custom-built safe embedded in the wall – the one only thre
The Billionaire’s Forgotten Wife Chapter 150: On the Edge
The early morning air clung to the penthouse like an unwanted specter: thick, heavy, and suffocating. Dawn hadn’t fully broken, but the skyline already pulsed with a low orange glow, flickering like the beginning of a firestorm. Juliette sat curled into the corner of Damon’s study couch, fingers wrapped tightly around a porcelain mug of cold coffee, her mind spinning in a storm of dread and disbelief.On the wall-mounted screen, the news played in a steady loop.Thorne Global in Crisis.A CEO Under Siege.Juliette Rowe: Heroine or Co-Conspirator?No matter how many files they leaked, how much truth they offered, the narrative had slipped beyond their control. And narratives: twisted, weaponized were sometimes more destructive than facts.Behind her, Damon stood still at the window, his figure a silhouette of pride bleeding into weariness. His shoulders were stiff, his reflection fractured by the glass. He looked like a man staring down his own unraveling empire. “They’ve frozen more a
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