All Chapters of Sold Myself to My Husband’s Rival: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Julius POVMy phone rang just moments after Jesse’s call ended. I saw the name flash on the screen and felt my chest tighten.Grandfather.I braced myself before answering."You brat!" his voice barked the moment I picked up. "I’m at your penthouse. Come back home this instant!"My heart skipped. I straightened my shoulders instinctively, quickly adjusting my tone and energy. He couldn’t find out what was going on. Not now. His health was fragile, and even the smallest amount of stress could be fatal."I’m on my way, Grandfather," I said quickly.By the time I reached the penthouse, he was already seated in the living room like a king on his throne. Despite his age and health, he still had the kind of presence that could silence a room."Grandfather," I greeted, forcing a lightness into my voice. "You're here."He gave me a stern look. "Of course I’m here. Where is Bella? Has she still not forgiven you?"I looked down. "No… not yet."He shook his head with a sigh. "You need to try har

I’d had enough of Jesse standing above everyone like some untouchable god. If he wanted war, I would give him one.I released everything.Every hidden file. Every photo. Every shred of evidence that tied him to the death of his sister. The world needed to know what kind of man he really was. A murderer—convicted, jailed, and now hiding behind a polished image and immense wealth. I didn’t stop there. I made sure the media got photos of his time in prison, grainy but damning. Let the public chew on that.And since Bella wasn’t living with him anymore, I fed that to the media too—his own fiancée abandoning him after discovering the truth. I wanted the world to doubt every word that ever came out of his mouth. I wanted his empire to bleed the way mine had.It worked—for a while.The headlines blew up. Stockholders panicked. The internet exploded.But then, one by one, the articles disappeared. Links went dead. Journalists retracted statements. Videos and photos vanished without a trace. I

Jesse povAfter Bella walked out, something cold settled inside me. I didn’t move from where I stood. I just stared at the door, wondering when the hell everything had gone so sideways.She thought I did it.She thought I had something to do with Julius’s grandfather’s heart attack.I hadn’t even done anything to him yet. If that old man think he can escape by having a heart attack, he’s got another thing coming. I dialed a direct line to one of my oldest contacts at BBC. He owed me a favor—a big one.“Mr. Morgan,” the voice on the other end answered quickly, a little too eager.“I want you to release the file we discussed,” I said, my voice cold and controlled. “Full story. All of it. Names, locations. Everything that ties Julius Hartman to my sister’s death.”“Are you sure?” he asked cautiously. “This is... substantial.”“I don’t stutter. Do it.”I ended the call and sent the encrypted file within minutes. Photos. Forensics. Eyewitness accounts Julius had long thought buried.An ho

Bella’s POV“Get in, Bella,” Jesse said again, voice low and strained, his eyes dark with emotion.I stood frozen beside the car, the heat of his words still searing through me.“Huh? What do you—”“I said get in,” he repeated, this time softer, but with more urgency. “I don’t want to lose control here. I need you right now.”Something in the way he said it made my heart stammer.Without another word, I slid into the passenger seat. Jesse closed the door behind me, circled to his side, and started the car in silence. The ride to his penthouse was quiet, but the tension between us—thick, heavy, unspoken—buzzed in the air like static.I glanced at him. His hands were gripping the wheel tighter than necessary, jaw set, eyes fixed ahead. Like he was battling something inside himself.We hadn’t even made it into the bedroom.The moment the door to the penthouse clicked shut behind us, he turned. One step and I was in his arms again—his hands cupping my face, his lips on mine, fierce and se

He brought the red gown closer, letting it spill like liquid fire across his hands. His gaze lingered on me, not with lust—but something deeper. Reverent. Possessive. Almost awed.“Stand up for me,” he said softly.I obeyed, still wrapped in the towel, heart pounding. His hands reached up, brushing the damp strands of hair from my neck, trailing down my arms as he slowly undid the towel and let it fall.I stood there, bare under his gaze, but I didn’t feel shy. Not with him. Not anymore.He didn’t rush.He let his fingertips graze my skin as he unfolded the gown, lifting it gently. “Arms up,” he whispered.The fabric slipped over me, cool and smooth, brushing against my hips and falling into place like it had been made just for me.He smoothed it down slowly, fingers gliding over my waist, my stomach, my hips. His palms lingered on my back as he adjusted the zipper, zipping it halfway—then stopping.“You’re breathtaking,” he murmured, voice hoarse.“Jesse…” I turned slowly in his arms