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Chapter 121
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2025-08-10 11:37:02
Latest chapter
The Billionaire's Hidden Vows Chapter 170
The Briggs estate was a contradiction, a cathedral of marble and glass that somehow felt as fragile as parchment. From the outside, it loomed—turrets carved in stone, windows blazing with light against the Tuscan night—but within, it was a labyrinth of echoes and secrets. Every corridor Savannah walked seemed thinner than the last, as though the walls themselves might crumple with one errant breath.Her heels clicked along the polished floor in relentless rhythm, each step striking the air like the countdown of a clock. She felt it in her bones: something was unraveling, not just the company, not just Colton’s legacy, but herself.Servants paused mid-step when she appeared. Their eyes flickered downward, their mouths sealed in uneasy silence. Lawyers lingered in doorways, clutching leather briefcases like executioner’s axes, waiting for their chance to pronounce her fate in ink and precedent. Even the chandeliers seemed to tremble above her head, their crystals scattering the light li
The Billionaire's Hidden Vows Chapter 169
The night was heavy with rain, a slow and merciless fall that drummed against the glass walls of the penthouse. Savannah sat before Colton’s mahogany desk, her hands trembling over a sealed envelope she had found beneath a stack of contracts. The handwriting was unmistakable—sharp, elegant strokes, Magnolia’s hand.She slid the blade of Colton’s letter opener through the seam and unfolded the parchment inside. The words struck her like a toxin spreading through her veins:Savannah, if you are reading this, then I have already decided. The cure lies in your surrender. One cannot live unless the other dies. Choose him—or choose yourself.Her throat closed. Her vision swam. She could almost hear Magnolia’s voice whispering the words in her ear, soft as venom. The promise was not of healing, but of sacrifice.The rain outside thickened, cloaking the city in a haze. For the first time, Savannah realized that every step Magnolia had taken—every smile, every whispered confession—had been car
The Billionaire's Hidden Vows Chapter 168
The mansion was quiet except for the relentless whisper of the rain against its glass walls, each droplet carrying the sound of old sorrow, as if the house itself mourned the wounds carved into its history. Savannah—no, Savara now, for she had begun to think of herself by the name that both soothed and terrified her—stood before the gilt-framed mirror in the west corridor. The dim chandelier light gilded her face with an almost holy glow, though her eyes told another story: glassy, feverish, too alive for their own good.Her hand trembled as she pulled down the sleeve of her silk gown. There, along the curve of her wrist, the faint mark shimmered, not of ink or blade but of heat, as though fire itself had kissed her flesh. The memory of last night’s ritual—a ritual she had not fully remembered consenting to—came in jagged flashes. The candlelit chamber. The circle of salt and roses. The cut of her own skin. A voice whispering: You will never belong to one man, but to the vow you carry
The Billionaire's Hidden Vows Chapter 167
The storm that evening was strange in Tuscany, a low pulse of thunder that seemed to echo through the stones of the villa rather than the sky. Colton stood at the long table in the great hall, the candlelight burning low around him, when the courier arrived. No words were exchanged—only the passing of a sealed, weighty package wrapped in thick black paper, edges stamped with a sigil too familiar.Savannah lingered near the hearth, her eyes restless, her body weary from nights of half-sleep. She felt the tension radiating off him as he slit the wrapping open with his knife.Inside: a recording device, small, unadorned, sinister in its simplicity. It blinked once—red—then filled the air with a voice that froze Savannah where she stood.Weston’s voice.“I always prepare a spare.”The words were smooth, dry, immortal—like a man speaking from beyond the grave, amused that death itself could not silence him. The villa seemed to inhale and hold its breath. Colton’s knuckles went white around
The Billionaire's Hidden Vows Chapter 166
The first days after the courtroom war unfolded with an unnatural stillness. Savannah had expected celebration, relief, or at least a kind of fiery vindication. Instead, Briggs Tower seemed embalmed in silence, like a cathedral after midnight mass, its marble floors echoing only the sound of her own footsteps.She moved through the corridors in black silk that whispered at her ankles, the title of CEO fastened to her name like a manacle rather than a crown. Colton still lay in a coma, his body hooked to machines that breathed for him, his face as pale as marble beneath hospital light. She visited him each night, sometimes pressing her hand to the glass, as though some invisible barrier kept her forever inches from him.On the seventy-third floor, her office reeked of antiseptic polish and hollow triumph. The board had bent to her signature, contracts were signed, and headlines blazed her victory across the city. But power felt rotten on her tongue.Because whispers had already begun—r
The Billionaire's Hidden Vows Chapter 165
The courthouse loomed over the city like a mausoleum, its marble columns veined with shadow, its doors yawning open to swallow all who dared enter. Reporters swarmed the steps like carrion birds, their cameras flashing in sharp bursts that made Savannah feel as if she were walking through lightning. Every step in her heels clicked like a verdict already written.Colton should have been here, seated beside her in black Armani armor, his very presence enough to silence whispers. Instead, he lay suspended in the white prison of a hospital room, drugged by the poison that had nearly claimed him, his body breathing but his voice stolen. She had signed her name on a dozen papers—acting CEO, legal guardian, temporary custodian of his fortune. Yet none of that would matter if she lost today.Across the marble hall, Weston Briggs stood with his lawyers in a fortress of black suits. His tie was blood-red, his smirk sharpened like a knife. He looked more like a predator than an heir, the bastard
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