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Eighty-Eight
Last Updated:
2025-05-15 04:04:48
Latest chapter
The Price of His Betrayal Eighty-Nine
The morning sun filtered softly through the velvet curtains of the luxury suite, casting long golden beams across the bed and the marble floor. The silence was peaceful, almost too peaceful.Ilda stood at the large mirror near the window, humming softly to herself as she dabbed foundation on her already glowing skin. Her voice carried a tune of something light and French, sweet like victory and scented with success. Her black silk robe hugged her curves, the belt loosely tied as if she ruled the world now and no longer needed to pretend.On the bed behind her, Christian’s eyes slowly fluttered open.But there was no warmth in them.They didn’t hold the usual sleepy glaze of a man who had just awakened in love. No.His eyes were cold, piercing sharp like glass that had been shattered and put back together with rage.The echoes of last night’s conversation rang in his head like church bells in a storm."He sobbed in my arms, told me I’m the only one left. Can you imagine? Me. The one wh
The Price of His Betrayal Eighty-Eight
The soft elegance of the hallway whispered wealth. Dim golden lightning danced across the marble floor, bouncing off crystal wall sconces. Ilda’s heels tapped with slow rhythm as she moved down the long corridor. She wore a floor length, silky black trench coat, and beneath it, an oversized cashmere sweater and matching black slacks. Her oversized designer sunglasses still shielded most of her face, though the sun had long set. No one was going to recognize her tonight, not with the care she had taken.She reached Room 509, paused, and sighed with a faint smile. Then knocked, lightly, twice.Christian opened the door almost instantly. His shirt was wrinkled and half unbuttoned, his hair unkempt. The faintest stubble shadowed his jaw. He looked exhausted, defeated… like a man unraveling.“Ilda,” he murmured with the kind of longing reserved for someone you truly believe will save you.She tilted her head sweetly. “Christian,” she said softly, almost singing it as she slid into his arms
The Price of His Betrayal Eighty-Seven
The once dim space was now bathed in the warm amber of the setting sun slipping through the high arched windows. John sat quietly near the middle of the restaurant, his back straight, his eyes half-focused on the untouched cup of espresso in front of him. His posture was calm, but his thoughts roared like a storm.He had come here for a late lunch, nothing planned, just a quiet place to clear his mind. But fate had brought something else to his table.A few tables ahead, tucked into a shadowy corner, sat a woman dressed in oversized clothing, baggy designer coat, dark jeans, large sunhat, and a pair of shades that swallowed nearly half her face. She might have passed for any wealthy woman trying to escape the spotlight. But John was a man trained to notice what others missed. And something about her posture, the way her fingers tapped lightly against the table, the rhythm of her laugh didn't sit right.He hadn't realized it at first. Not until he heard the name: “Ilda.” Clear, unfilte
The Price of His Betrayal Eighty-Six
The soft melody of instrumental music drifted through the room, mixing gently with the warm scent of cinnamon and baked goods from the kitchen. The large space gleamed with sunlight pouring through the wide hospital room windows, now looking less like a place of healing and more like a sanctuary of love and care. Crystal walked in slowly, her heels clicking lightly against the polished floor.Her appearance was nothing short of breathtaking. Her long hair had been stretched and styled by her stylist, falling like a sheet of silk down her back. Her makeup was subtle but glowing warm earth tones that enhanced her natural features and made her eyes sparkle with purpose. The light blush on her cheeks added a softness that made her look more like a glowing bride than a patient’s wife.Adrian, who had been arranging the dining table alongside two chefs, turned instinctively at the sound of her heels. His breath caught in his throat.His eyes widened. “Wow…”She smiled shyly, brushing a curl
The Price of His Betrayal Eighty-Five
The house was silent, too silent.Robert had just been escorted out by his lawyers and the police. The front door closed behind them with a heavy thud that seemed to echo deep into the bones of the mansion.Olivia collapsed into the nearest chair, her body shaking. Her face, once held high with pride and elegance, now drooped with shame and disbelief. Tears flowed freely down her face, soaking into her dress as she buried her face in her hands. Her entire frame trembled with every sob, and for a moment, she looked like a shadow of herself broken, exposed, and lost.Christian stood at a distance, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His brows were furrowed, and his gaze pierced straight through her. He was quiet, but not calm. No, beneath that silence was a boiling fury. A thousand questions were crashing into one another in his mind, and only one managed to come out clearly.He stepped forward slowly and sat across from his mother. The distance between them felt greater than it ev
The Price of His Betrayal Eighty-Four
Her hand collided with Robert’s cheek with such force it echoed off the walls like a gunshot in a cathedral.Robert didn’t flinch. But his face turned slowly, a bright red mark blossoming across his skin.“How dare you…” Olivia spat, her voice laced with venom and a heartbreak she could no longer disguise. “How dare you lie against me?!”Her voice cracked midway, like glass under pressure. The accusation came from a place so deep, it bordered on hysteria.“Olivia!” someone gasped. A doctor rushed forward, but she raised a trembling hand to stop them. Her legs wobbled again, but pride alone kept her upright.Robert finally raised his head. His eyes—dull and sunken—did not meet hers. His lips parted, and he spoke barely above a whisper.“I’m sorry.”It was soft.But it felt like thunder.Silence fell again this time heavier, sharper, as if every person in the room felt the breath punched from their lungs.“I… I’m tired,” Robert continued, voice cracking with something deeper than guilt
The Price of His Betrayal Eighty-Three
Robert coughed harder now, blood bubbling from his mouth. His chest heaved with every breath. Olivia’s eyes watched from the wheelchair wide, flooded with a mother’s grief and devastation. It was pain that couldn’t be spoken, only felt. Her trembling hands clutched the arms of her chair, unable to voice a single word.And standing far behind, unnoticed by most, Ilda silently watched… her arms folded. A strange smile slowly curled across her lips, but she tilted her head ever so slightly so no one could truly read her expression. It was as if she were enjoying the unraveling of a knot she had carefully tied.Then, Robert’s body jolted, he steadied himself on the floor with both palms. A raspy whisper escaped him. “All right… All right, Christian. I’ll speak.”The room stilled.Christian loomed over him. “Yes, I’m all ears. You might be older than me, but I swear if you don’t speak the truth, I won’t hesitate to break every bone in your damn body.”Robert spat blood to the side and lift
The Price of His Betrayal Eighty-Two
Christian lowered the phone slowly, staring blankly at the horizon. His chest rose and fell, deeper with every breath, as though holding back an eruption. His hands were clenched, nails digging into his palms. The muscles along his jaw twitched, and his eyes once filled with fire now burned ice cold.You can’t run forever, Robert.This time, the hunt ends with me.He turned back toward the house, but his stride had changed. It wasn’t just the walk of a broken son anymore it was the walk of a man who had nothing left to lose.And everything to take back.The atmosphere in the house was thick, choked with silence, unease, and the weight of truth finally clawing its way to the surface. Ilda stood stiffly near the couch, her arms folded tight against her chest, while Christian leaned quietly against the wall, arms crossed, eyes dark and distant. The tension in the room was almost tangible as though the very air trembled with everything left unsaid.Suddenly BANG!The front door slammed
The Price of His Betrayal Eighty-One
The tension in the room was thick, almost suffocating. Olivia sat quietly in the wheelchair, her once fiery eyes now sunken, her face pale and drawn from the trauma of the past days. A light blanket was draped over her fragile legs, and her hands rested limply on her lap. Her silence wasn’t empty, it was loud with unspoken truths. Her gaze remained unblinking, glued to one person in the room Ilda.Christian stood beside the window, arms crossed tightly over his chest, jaw clenched. Ilda stood a few steps away, watching Olivia like a hawk, the corners of her lips curved slightly in an artificial smile. Just then, the soft sound of footsteps approached, and the doctor, flanked by a nurse, entered holding a brown envelope and a clipboard.He cleared his throat before speaking.“Mr. Blake… I have the results from the toxicology and internal bloodwork.”Christian moved immediately, walking closer to the doctor, his face tense. “Yes? What did you find?”The doctor exhaled, glancing between
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