All Chapters of BILLIONAIRE'S LIES: Chapter 361 - Chapter 370

Sabrina Ultra HQ's glass doors moved softly with their characteristic soft whoosh, and in came Eliana Thompson, clad in white silk blouse, high-waisted pants, and heels that whispered power. Her engagement ring glimmered with sunlight that poured through the lobby windows—delicate, but breathtaking. Just like her.Heads turned.Whispers followed.The Heiress. Damian Wolfe's fiancée. The woman who had turned down kings and billionaires, only to say yes to her former bodyguard.But when she smiled, looking so untroubled and natural, the murmurs turned into admiration."Eliana Thompson's here," one intern whispered quietly to another. "She's even more beautiful in real life.""I heard the engagement's on. Like, ring-and-forever kind of on," another said, her eyes wide.As she passed by, she offered a polite nod to those that addressed her. She wasn't here to flaunt her name. She was here to see her mother's heritage. To have a foundation. To, above all things, share her joy.She stepped

The night began harmlessly enough.Eliana was standing in front of the mirror in her hotel room, glancing over at her own face. She was wearing a satin white jumpsuit—sleeveless, fitted to the nth degree—with petite pearls framing the neckline and a sash that read Bride Vibes Only in gold script."Okay, this is either going to be a total blast or end up in some mild criminal charges," she grumbled.Behind her, a door slammed open.“Let the sin begin!” screamed Sari, her best friend and unapologetic chaos-bringer. Behind her marched a glamorous army of Eliana’s closest friends, cousins, and three women from Sabrina Ultra’s design team who insisted on coming because “we survived gown fittings together—we’re basically bonded for life.”There were feather boas, rhinestones, tiaras, matching bride-tribe tees, and an uncomfortably high number of mini champagne bottles.Sabrina Auburn herself was close behind, waving a bottle of vintage rosé and grinning ridiculously."Don't worry," Sabrina

The sun came through the lace coverlet over the aisle, throwing golden soft shadows onto tidily placed petals on the lawn. There were rows of chairs, draped in white-clad guests, all standing, turning as one to the music—soft, romantic, eternal.It was happening.Silence was heavy. Even the wind held its breath.She stood at the rear of the billowing silk curtains in the garden's distance, Eliana Thompson shining in her hand-fitted dress. Her veil glimmered faintly in the light, and behind her, the train swirled upon each soft step she made.Her parents took her arms on either side.Benedict, tall and calm, clenched his jaw to keep his face impassive. But his eyes. his eyes were glassy, glinting with pride and the soft pain only a parent could suffer on the day that his child released his hand.Sabrina, lovely in her demure lavender dress, had already lost the war against tears. They flowed freely now, as she gently squeezed her daughter's hand."You ready, baby?" she whispered.Elian

The sun was golden when it fell just below the horizon, and there was golden amber across the garden, now a magical reception space. Fairy lights twinkled in the trees, long wooden tables had white roses and crystal candelabras draped over them, and the air was filled with lavender and vanilla fragrance.The bride and groom walked hand-in-hand to applause. The emcee's voice thundered out, "Ladies and gentlemen, for the first time—Mr. and Mrs. Damian and Eliana Wolfe!"Cheers. Applause. Some shrieking screams from the wedding party.Eliana curtsied modestly and Damian nodded modestly and flashed a brief, lopsided grin.Then the moment everyone had been waiting for.The tune switched to a slow instrumental rendition of "You Are the Reason." A golden glow emanating in the middle of the dance floor highlighted it.Damian led Eliana out softly, his palm dug deep into the small of her back as they moved in quiet synchrony. He'd never been much on dancing—but tonight, the world just melted a

The lounge of the airport buzzed with predawn activity—travelers ripping open luggage, the scent of espresso filling the air, flight staff speaking through the speakers like a flash of electricity. Amidst the commotion were Damian Wolfe and Eliana Thompson-Wolfe—honeymoon paradise, suitcases in tow, passports in tow, grinning as just stepped from the pages of a cologne ad.Mainly because both of them had that "just married" glow. and secondly because Eliana was also wearing white linen wide-leg trousers and a silk camisole that left Damian's brain numb every time she turned his face."First honeymoon flight wife and husband," announced Eliana, her voice over the moon, as she waved her boarding pass. "To Paris. City of art and fashion, bread and great tragic heartbreak."Damian side-glared at her. He would like to take off, please, of the subject of heartbreak from our itinerary.She laughed, threading her arm through his. "Only if you vow not to check emails on the plane."He arched a