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Ninety-Six
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2025-05-18 02:31:26
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The Price of His Betrayal Ninety-Six
96The air in the dining room carried the scent of warm soup and grilled fish, mixed with the sweet undertone of ripe mangoes and freshly cut pineapple. The long polished table, once a setting for stiff formal dinners, now held a softer energy, a fragile kind of peace that was just beginning to breathe.Crystal’s mother moved briskly between the kitchen and the dining space, her eyes scanning every plate, her hands adjusting cutlery and tablecloths that already sat perfectly aligned. “Grace,” she called to one of the maids, “add more fruits to the center, please. And tell the cook to bring more tea, just in case.”She was trying to cover up years of guilt with slices of watermelon and perfectly folded napkins. But beneath all that, her heart was alive with hope, and her hands trembled with the weight of a daughter finally home.Crystal sat at the far end of the table, her body slumped slightly as she leaned back in the chair. Her hands cradled her belly gently, and her eyes fluttered
The Price of His Betrayal Ninety-Five
The car eased to a stop outside the mansion's familiar gates, the tires crunching softly against the gravel driveway. Crystal sat still for a moment, her breath shallow, her fingers gently resting over the small rise of her belly. Her reflection stared back at her from the car window — tired eyes, but stronger now. Different. Changed.Adrian didn’t speak. He simply reached over, placing a hand gently on hers. She gave a small nod, gathering the courage she needed, then slowly stepped out of the car. The morning breeze kissed her cheeks, lifting the hem of her coat as she approached the gate.The security man, a familiar face from her youth, stood upright the moment he recognized her. “Good morning, Miss Crystal,” he said, his tone polite, laced with something almost close to reverence. “Welcome home.”She offered a faint, almost uncertain smile. “Thank you.”As the gates parted with a soft whirr, she stepped through, Adrian walking quietly behind her. The mansion stood just as she rem
The Price of His Betrayal Ninety-Four
Morning broke quietly over the Blake estate. The once lively household was now wrapped in a strange stillness. Golden sunlight streamed gently through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the dining room, casting long patterns across the polished floor. The clinking and clattering from the kitchen was the only indication that the house was awake, chefs tidying up, dishes being wiped, utensils being arranged, but the rest of the home stood like a grand stage waiting for its actors to enter.The large dining table was already set. A variety of dishes filled the center of the long table, golden pancakes stacked neatly, eggs softly scrambled, warm rolls arranged in a basket, and fresh juice glistening in crystal pitchers. It was a breakfast fit for royalty, yet not a single seat was occupied.Until Christian walked in.His footsteps were slow but firm, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to the elbows. His eyes were dark with fatigue, and his right hand was carefully bandaged from the knuckle d
The Price of His Betrayal Ninety-Three
The sun hung gently in the sky over the vibrant city of New York, casting a golden glow across the bustling streets and towering skyscrapers. But tucked within the heart of the city was a quiet haven, a breathtaking aquatic glass dome nestled inside the renowned SeaLife Gallery. It shimmered under the light like a crystal orb, its transparent walls offering a surreal view of vibrant fish swimming freely in sapphire waters. The soft sound of water flowing beneath the glass bridges made the entire place feel like a fantasy far removed from reality.Crystal’s laughter echoed softly within the walls of the aquarium, blending like music with the graceful movements of stingrays and shimmering goldfish. Her face, radiant and glowing, looked more beautiful than ever. Her pale skin had gained a gentle hue again, her cheeks softly flushed, and her full lips stretched into a peaceful, bright smile that hadn't been seen in months.She wore a flowing ivory dress that gently hugged her baby bump,
The Price of His Betrayal Ninety-Two
The shattered glass, the blood, Christian standing like a storm at the center of it all.“Christian… what happened?”John asked confused.Christian slowly turned to him, eyes bloodshot, jaw clenched. He pointed a trembling hand at the screen.“Watch that. And tell me what you see.”And just like that, the storm was no longer just in Christian’s heart—It had arrived in full force.John stared at the footage, eyes widening with disbelief. He didn’t blink as he watched Hilda inject the substance into Olivia’s IV line.“My God…” he muttered, stepping back. “Christian… I knew she was no good. I always had this gut feeling about her. She was too careful… too rehearsed. Always pretending… always watching. Her ways were never straight.”His voice trembled with suppressed anger. “But to go this far? To hurt your mother? To leave her in that state—?”He turned to Christian, who was now pacing slowly, his bloody hand wrapped in the towel John had just tied around it.“What else did you find?” Jo
The Price of His Betrayal Ninety-One
Christian stared down at her, his expression unreadable. But something inside him shifted. The cracks were showing. The storm wasn’t over but the wind had changed direction.Christian staggered backward as if the words had physically struck him. His chest heaved. His breath turned shallow. He blinked rapidly, trying to absorb the avalanche of truth that had just spilled from his mother’s lips.His eyes dark and stormy, searched Olivia’s trembling figure as though begging her to take it all back. His brows furrowed in disbelief. His lips parted, but no words came out. Just stunned silence.He placed a hand over his head, ruffling his hair in frustration. A tight sigh escaped his throat as he shook his head, slowly, then faster, like a man trying to shake off a nightmare.His handsome face, usually composed and commanding, was now lost in turmoil. Veins stood out along his neck. His jaw clenched. His whole frame, tall and broad, looked weighed down by invisible chains of confusion, betr
The Price of His Betrayal Ninety
The cool breeze swept gently across the wide balcony, brushing through Crystal’s soft curls as she sat beside Adrian, their fingers loosely interlocked on the armrest between them. Morning sun filtered through the trees, casting warm golden light over the terrace, where a simple breakfast tray lay half-touched.Adrian leaned back, eyes sparkling with pride as he turned to her. “You know,” he began, his voice smooth with admiration, “I’ve been trying to find the right words all morning, but I think I’ll just say it as it is, my wife is the CEO of Real Estate Management, United States. The whole world saw it last night. And I still can’t get over it.”Crystal blushed and looked down at her lap, brushing a crumb off her dress. “Adrian, don’t exaggerate... I’m just trying to do my best. I want to become a better version of myself, that’s all.”He turned toward her fully now, lifting her chin gently with two fingers. “No, you’re not trying to become anything,” he said firmly, a smile growi
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
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