บททั้งหมดของ Betrayed By Husband And Son: Rise Of A Billionaire Wife : บทที่ 191 - บทที่ 200

Adele~ “Oh my, Adele! Look at you!” Sarah cried, veering off the corridor like a puppy chasing a thrown ball. My smile stretched so wide it almost turned into a grimace. “Long time, no see, Sarah.” “Oh please, I came to see you at the hospital three nights ago.” She squinted at me, and then started babbling nonstop. “We missed you. How are you? How’s Ethan? I saw the posts. My goodness, what a mess. And Mia, oh, I can’t believe she picked you as chief bridesmaid. That’s… surprising, considering you aren't even close.” Surprising was diplomatic. Infuriating might be closer to the truth. “Ethan’s stable. Thanks for asking. As for Mia, well, people like her make bold choices. It’s great for her, honestly.” “People are saying you asked to be chief bridesmaid because…” Sarah lowered her voice to a scandalized whisper, “You're desperate to be a part of her circle.” She raised an alarm, her hands flying in the air. I was startled. “Like, come on, how could anyone say such a thing ab

Adele~ “And you are?” I raised an eyebrow. I didn't know who she was. I haven't seen her in visual meetings in all of my stay at the hospital. Although I learned we hired more hands. Mark cleared his throat. “Adele, this is Miranda Hale. International growth strategist. She’s worked with properties across different countries.” I tried not to look shocked, but I wasn't sure how my face was holding up. An international strategist? What was she doing at my start-up resort? I glanced over other new faces too. Now, some faces began to make sense — the graduate from Stormfield, with the last name, Harrington. Anderson, the man who designed events for foreign diplomats. Rivers, the woman with seven years of experience working with luxury resort chains. Funny enough, we didn’t pay them more than we could afford simply because they had experience that could put us on the map faster than any marketing campaign. And now, here they were, sitting in my boardroom, waiting for my approval as

Detroit~ The last thing Mayor Caroline Anderson Bennett would ever have expected was Detroit West walking into her office unannounced. He was the kind of man people wrote appointments for months in advance — and still got turned away. Caroline, who was on call, froze mid-sentence when the door opened, her staff trailing behind him like nervous shadows. He didn’t wait to be ushered in. Detroit never did. His presence filled the room before his voice even touched the air. “Ma’am, I tried to stop him,” the secretary stammered, clutching a clipboard to her chest like a shield. Caroline didn’t bother glancing at her. No one stopped Detroit West. The fact that her secretary had even tried was laughable. “That’ll be all, Ellen,” she said crisply. The secretary hesitated, then bobbed a quick nod and scurried out, leaving the heavy door to click shut behind her. The silence that followed was almost suffocating. Left alone with Detroit, the Mayor smiled faintly, speaking into the p

Mayor~ She didn't sleep a wink. She lingered in the hallway, turned off the cameras to the suite, except one — for her own protection in the future — and even had the hotel on lock down for that night. She knew when Mia entered. When Mia didn't leave after ten minutes, she snuck in and heard the obvious sound of intimacy. But when morning came, Mia was found in her suite, sleeping on her bed with no sign of lingering intimacy on her. As for Leighton West, he was still in bed, wasted, naked, scratches all over his skin, lipstick smudged across his face. And the room reeked of raw sex and aphrodisiac. Even from the CCTV footage, Caroline didn't know what happened. What was shown was that a person in disguise had put Mia on their shoulder and sent her into Mia’s suite, just a few minutes after Caroline left. Caroline didn't leave the hallway until the sound died. When she entered a while later to confirm, she found them cuddling, so she felt her work was done and returned to

Detroit~ As if on cue, Elias paid more attention and noticed beads of sweat forming on his forehead, his chest rising and falling too fast. Detroit's knuckles whitened, veins bulging like cords ready to snap. His jaw worked furiously, but his eyes were distant, as if something was clawing at the edges of his mind. “Don’t,” Elias warned softly, his own voice tight with pain. “Detroit, don’t force it. You’ll—” “Shut up,” Detroit hissed, his voice frayed. His head dipped low, a hand flying to his temple. The pain came sharp and merciless, stabbing through his skull like someone hammering nails inside. His teeth ground together, the sound was animalistic, guttural. “Goddamn it—!” His hand slammed the dashboard, a crack splitting across the leather. Elias reached out with his good arm, his grip firm on Detroit’s wrist. “Breathe. Listen to me. You’ll wreck yourself if you keep pushing.” “I need to know!” Detroit’s growl was half-roar, half-plea. His chest heaved, veins pulsing al