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One Hundred And Twenty
Last Updated:
2025-05-31 22:35:23
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The Price of His Betrayal One Hundred And Twenty-Two
Six months later, and Crystal’s world had never felt so whole. The gentle warmth of morning light streamed through the sheer curtains, bathing everything in gold, her world now painted in soft hues of joy, in the smell of baby powder, the sound of lullabies, and the rhythm of tiny breaths.The baby, her son, was the most perfect thing she had ever seen.Plump cheeks dusted with a natural pink. Thick, curly lashes framing dark, curious eyes. His tiny fingers had a habit of curling around hers with surprising strength, and he often babbled as if trying to tell stories only she could understand.Crystal would spend hours simply watching him sleep, hand on his belly, feeling it rise and fall. His skin was smooth as milk, his body healthy and warm, a perfect mix of her and Adrian. Sometimes she swore she saw Adrian’s quiet intensity in the baby’s gaze, and other times, her own fierce determination when he stubbornly refused to sleep.The living room echoed with soft music and gentle laught
The Price of His Betrayal One Hundred And Twenty Two
The storm outside was mild compared to the one brewing in Christian’s chest.The blinds were half-drawn, allowing dull grey light to spill across the floor of his office. The clock on the wall ticked, each second a quiet reminder of how much time had passed, and how far he’d fallen behind. Christian sat behind his desk, his posture stiff, arms crossed over his chest like a soldier holding the last line of defense.His eyes were cold, distant, not with grief, but with calculation. His once pristine suit was slightly wrinkled, his collar loose, but none of it mattered now. His mind was elsewhere.John stood across from him, arms folded, his expression lined with quiet concern. He had been watching Christian unravel for months, but this wasn't the heartbreak he was witnessing. This was something darker. Something quieter. And far more dangerous.“She’s not coming back, Christian,” John said, his voice heavy but calm. “You’ve tried everything. The rumors. The press. Even stirring up lies
The Price of His Betrayal One Hundred And Twenty
The silence had barely lasted five seconds after Adrian stepped out of the car before it exploded into rage.His polished shoes slammed the gravel as he stormed toward them, his jaw tight with fury, eyes wild with disbelief. His fists clenched at his sides like loaded guns.“What the hell is this, Christian?” Adrian’s voice cut through the morning air like a sharp blade. “Why are you still coming to my wife? I warned you last time, stay away from me and my family!” He yelled.Christian straightened, his expression unreadable, but his posture taut. “Adrian—”But Adrian didn’t wait. He grabbed Christian by the collar and shoved him back, hard. Christian’s back struck the metal signpost on the empty plot of land, but he kept his balance. He didn’t swing back — not yet.“Answer me! What game are you playing this time?!” Adrian shouted, stepping closer again.Christian locked eyes with him, voice low but filled with fire. “Let go.”“Or what?!” Adrian hissed.“Stop! Stop already!” Crystal’s
The Price of His Betrayal One Hundred And Nineteen
The night was too quiet.The ticking of the clock in the corner echoed like a taunt in Christian’s empty room. He stood alone in his master bedroom, shirt half-unbuttoned, the dim light of the chandelier hanging like a ghost above his head. The air smelled faintly of cologne and regret. On the wall ahead of him was a wide mirror — ornate, cruel in its honesty.Christian stared at his reflection, eyes hollow, jaw clenched, knuckles white around a half-filled glass of whiskey he hadn’t touched in hours.His voice cracked softly, low and bitter, as if the man in the mirror were someone else.> “What have you become…?”His once-proud eyes, the same eyes that used to reflect power and arrogance, now brimmed with a storm of failure. The weight of Adrian’s words played over in his head like a broken record:> “She’s not your wife anymore. Stop hiding behind guilt and start respecting her freedom. You lost her.”Christian’s grip on the glass tightened.He slowly walked toward the mirror, che
The Price of His Betrayal One Hundred And Eighteen
Adrian touched her shoulder gently. “Are you okay?”She nodded slowly. “Yes. Just... surprised.” she stammered.He studied her eyes for a long, quiet moment. “You didn’t believe any of that, right?”She gave a small smile. “I don’t think it matters what I believe anymore. What matters is what I’ve already chosen.”And with that, she stepped closer to him, her face soft, but her soul anchored in something stronger than flowers or regrets.Crystal stood motionless, the air thick around her as if the silence had wrapped itself around her shoulders like a cold, familiar cloak. In her hands were the roses Christian had handed her only minutes ago. But now, they felt heavier than flowers should, as if every petal carried the weight of past betrayals and twisted apologies.Adrian, who had watched the entire interaction silently, moved slowly toward the door and shut it gently, his back still facing her. His fingers lingered for a brief moment on the lock, and with a sharp click, he turned th
The Price of His Betrayal One Hundred And Seventeen
Adrian stood still for a second, his hand still gripping the polished brass doorknob behind him. His tall frame filled the entrance as his eyes scanned the room, first landing on Crystal, then on the bouquet of fresh roses in her hand, and finally resting on Christian, who stood just a few steps away, lips parted as though he had more to say.His jaw flexed ever so slightly, and the calm fire burning behind his eyes made the air in the office grow heavy.“So you’re the one sending the gifts to my wife,” Adrian said quietly, closing the door behind him with a gentle click that somehow echoed louder than it should have.Christian’s shoulders stiffened, but he tried to keep his expression soft. He turned slightly toward Adrian, offering what he likely thought was a peaceful, remorseful smile.“They were just—”“What’s your motive?” Adrian cut in, his voice still calm but firm, too calm. The type of calm that cloaked a far deeper anger. “You show up here with flowers, make a public video
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