All Chapters of The Price of His Betrayal : Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

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

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 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 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 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