All Chapters of The Billionaire Trap : Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Leyla's POV The walls of my room felt too close, pressing against me like they wanted to choke the air out of my chest. I paced from one corner to the other, barefoot on the cold floor, tears drying on my cheeks only to be replaced by new ones that burn just the same. I couldn’t stop shaking. Rage is inside me like poison, spreading through every vein, making my hands tremble and my lips twitch with words I was dying to explode out on that bitch's face!Sophia.Her name itself was enough to twist my stomach into knots. Her face was everywhere now, glowing, radiant, untouchable, like a precious pearl that had just been displayed out of its shell. That bitch walked now through the house like a crowned princess, her steps knocking out every ounce of hope I still had, her voice soft, her eyes lowered as if she was too fragile to look straight into our eyes.Everyone bent for her. Everyone was careful and disgustingly kind to her. She was worshipped! Why? Because of that stupid piece of l

Zack's POV I sat on the floor beside my bed, the glass bottle slipping from my shaking hand and rolling toward the edge before tipping over. The sharp, bitter smell of whiskey hit my nose, thick and suffocating. I didn’t even flinch. The liquid pooled on the carpet like spilled blood. I watched it spread, watched it soak into the fabric like grief spreading through my bones. I didn’t care, I didn't give a damn about anything anymore. My head throbbed, sharp needles shooting through my nerves with each breath. The room around me blurred. The walls, once clean and orderly, now seemed stained with the weight of my own fucked up failures. I buried my face in my palms, hot tears mixing with the sweat on my skin. I was drowning, choking on every memory, every touch, every whisper of Sophia’s name.She was everywhere.Her scent lingered on my sheets, my thoughts and soul. Her soft laugh echoed in my ears like a clean reminder of how close and far she was from me. Her eyes — those haunted,

Zack's POV The walls of my room still carried the echo of my sobs. My throat burned from hours of crying, my stomach churned with the mix of alcohol and drugs that poisoned my blood. I had beaten myself against the ground until my fists hurt, until the skin of my knuckles tore open. The world blurred before me, but the blur was nothing compared to the storm that crushed my chest. I had ruined everything. I had destroyed Sophia, the only light left in my wasted life.I could still see her face when I told her the truth. The way her eyes widened. The disbelief. The shock. The hatred that flared like a blade across her soul. And then she was gone, running out, leaving me with the weight of every crime I had committed.I pressed my head into the cold floor, pulling at my hair until strands broke between my fingers. “Why? Why did I say it? Why did I ever touch her life? Why didn’t I let her go?” The questions tore out of me in broken whispers, but the silence swallowed them. My thoughts

Sophia’s POV The car ride home passed like a blur.Outside the window, the city slid by—gray streets, pale faces, the cold shadows of late evening. I sat still, my head tilted slightly against the glass, not seeing any of it. The seatbelt pressed against my ribs where the wound still throbbed. My hands rested on my lap like pieces of stone.I heard Zack breathe beside me, slow and uneven, like someone afraid to make a sound. He kept glancing at me, but I didn’t turn to meet his eyes. I didn’t have the strength for that. I no longer had the strength for anything.The hospital’s smell still clung to my skin: antiseptic, metal, and faint traces of blood. It lingered like a ghost, reminding me of every hour I had spent staring at the ceiling there, waiting for pain to pass, for grief to fade. Neither had.When we finally reached the Holmes estate, the huge gates opened as if to swallow me whole. I didn’t feel like I was coming back home. I felt like I was walking back to my cage, to the

Sophia’s POV The road stretched before me like a long, gray ribbon under the dull sky. I walked with my head bowed, arms wrapped around myself, as if trying to hold in the pieces of me that kept threatening to scatter with every step. My soul felt numb but my hands couldn't stop shaking. The road was cold and silent, people stared at me intrigued with pitiful eyes and mouth in awe. Had they recognized me? Were they feeling bad for me? Actually I couldn’t care less. My feet were sore, my legs heavy, but I couldn’t stop. I didn’t know what I was walking toward, only that I had nowhere else to go but home.Home. The word felt so odd to me again. I hadn’t thought of my father’s house as home in years. The further I went, the more the memories began to press in—my father’s stern voice when I was young, his silent disappointment on the night I was married off, the way his eyes had looked at me that last morning before I left. I hated him for what he had done, for selling me into the Holmes