All Chapters of Cripple Billionaire Husband : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The ballroom hummed with chatter, but it all faded when Melissa glided forward, her black gown slicing through the crowd like a blade. Lauren’s arm trembled in Alex’s, her grip faltering as Melissa’s sly smile locked onto them, venom dripping from her lips.“Well. Well. Well,” Melissa said, her voice loud, cutting. “If it isn’t the golden boy and his favourite little shadow.”Lauren shrank back, her breath catching, eyes darting to the floor. Alex tensed beside her, his hands gripping his chair.Melissa’s gaze raked over Lauren, slow and cruel, lingering on her dress, her ring. “Interesting,” she sneered, louder now, drawing stares. “You just can’t stop picking up my scraps, can you, Lauren? Always the sad little stray begging for what I don’t want.”Lauren flinched, her voice barely a whisper. “Melissa, please, don't do this here.”“Please?” Melissa mocked, stepping closer, her laugh sharp. “Oh, look at you…pathetic! What, did you think dressing up in that cheap silk makes you somebod

Her father's word__”she might not make it through the night” kept haunting her. Tears streamed down her face, Alex's hesitation __” I‘d__” burning like acid on her skin. Everything seemed to be going wrong at the same time. It was all so overwhelming.“Lauren! Open the damn door, now!” Alex growled at the other side of the door, banging it crazily.“You can't lock yourself inside there forever, let me in.”Lauren quickly grabbed her phone off the door before she went ahead to open the door. Alex quickly wheeled in, grabbing her hand before she could escape again.“What's wrong? Tell me,” he says softly, his eyes holding a deep concern. Lauren wanted to believe that the look in his eyes was honest and he truly cared about her. But his actions that night had left a deep doubt in her mind. Alex was not the kind of man to care for someone so quickly. His acts was all just a pretense, nothing more.But what was the need? She was already leaving, why does he need to pretend?“My mum…she's

The hospital waiting room was a blur of blinding whites and hushed voices, the fluorescent lights humming above Lauren’s head. She sat still, her hands clenched in her lap, and eyes sore from her constant crying and sleepless night. Her clothes now rumpled from the two days that she had continuously worn it—clung to her like a second skin and her mother’s still, pale face haunted her every thought. Dr. Patel’s previous words from the other night before echoed relentlessly, haunting her every minute: tampered medication. Someone had stolen her mother's life from her, and the weight of that truth pressed heavily against her chest, sharp and unyielding.She glanced at the wall clock mounted on the wall—8:05 a.m. Dr. Patel had promised to update her on the toxicology test result, and every second shevwaited for him, she felt the overwhelming sense of betrayal from her mother's memory. Her legs continued to bounce, her nails digging painfully into her skin. She needed answers instantly,

Lauren suddenly sat up on the couch, her body stiff, her heart raw from last night. Alex’s kiss clung to her like a scratch she couldn’t itch—fierce, desperate, and far too real. She’d unraveled in his arms, seeking anything to lessen the pain that followed her since her mother's death, only to pull back with a shaky, ‘This doesn’t change a thing.’Now, guilt continued to gnaw at her. She’d married him for money, a cold deal to pay for her mother’s surgery. Love wasn’t in the contract, it was never in the contract. So why did her chest tighten so much at the thought of him?The house felt empty. Alex and her were the only people staying there. She hadn't seen or heard from Dan, Alex's right hand man, since her mother's death. Alex didn't even seem affected by his absence.Her phone sat on the coffee table, its silence heavy. The threatening text, “ Stop, or you’ll end up like your useless mother,” burned at the back of her mind. She hadn’t told Alex. He was her husband on paper, not h

Lauren stumbled into the empty hallway, the office door slamming shut behind her, the childhood photo and note gripped between her fingers. “If you leave now, you’re breaking more than a contract—you’re breaking me”—cut deeper than she’d expected, his cold edge laced with something raw, but the note’s accusation drowned it out. Her tears spilled, her breath jagged, as she pressed against the wall, whispering, “What am I supposed to do now? Believe him, or run?” The photo, her eight-year-old self in a pink designer camp t-shirt, stared back, and a memory roared to life, fierce and unrelenting.Flashback****Rain lashed the woods, the summer camp a distant murmur beneath the howl of a flash flood. An eight-year-old girl, scrawny and drenched, slogged through mud, her borrowed t-shirt—Melissa’s, bright pink with the cam’s logo—plastered to her skin. She’d taken it after Melissa sneered at her faded clothes, unaware it would mark her as her evil sister“Hey!” she yelled, her voice swallo