All Chapters of The Billionaire’s Forgotten Wife: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

The storm had passed but the sky remained heavy, as if the heavens themselves braced for what came next.Damon stood on the balcony of Thorne estate, his gaze locked on the distant city skyline. His once-pristine empire glittered faintly in the distance, now tarnished by betrayal and blood. The wind whipped his suit jacket around him, but he didn’t move.Inside, Juliette paced the nursery, one hand pressed to her lips, watching Mason sleep. Even in his slumber, the child frowned sensing the unrest in the house.A chime echoed through the hall. Not the doorbell. A secure alert.Ryder appeared instantly at the top of the staircase; phone in hand, his face tight, jaw clenched. “She made her move”,Damon turned. “Celeste?”Ryder handed him the device. “Read it”,The screen glowed with a video message, time-stamped and encrypted. Damon pressed play.Celeste appeared, seated in a luxurious penthouse bathed in gold and marble. Her eyes, so calm they were almost bored, stared into the camera.

The morning light did little to warm the ice building inside Damon’s chest.He couldn’t sleep. Not after the email. Not after seeing the blurry photo that refused to leave his mind. He’d spent the entire night staring at that silhouette, trying to convince himself it wasn’t Marcus Lang; the man who had stood by his side through mergers, losses, lawsuits, and war.But it was.It had to be.And if it wasn’t… then someone was framing him, and doing it brilliantly.Still, Damon knew he couldn’t afford second guesses. Not anymore. Time was bleeding away, and every wasted hour gave Celeste more ground.So he summoned Marcus Lang.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------9:13 A.M. – Private Conference Room, Thorne EstateMarcus entered the room with his usual calm gait, coffee in hand, silver-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. He looked… normal. Too normal to be suspected.Damon didn’t return the greeting.He simply turned his laptop

Rain struck the glass panels of the Thorne estate like a thousand tiny fists steady and unrelenting. Inside Mason’s bedroom, Juliette stood motionless. The storm outside was chaos, but the real one churned inside her chest. Her fingers grazed the edge of Mason’s pillow, the faint scent of his shampoo still clinging to the fabric. His stuffed lion, Leo, lay askew on the floor.It had all happened too fast. One moment he was there, teasing her about burnt toast. The next— gone. Ripped from her by shadows with no face and no remorse.She blinked hard. This was no time for tears. Mason needed her strength. Unyielding.The door creaked open behind her.“Juliette,” Damon said softly. His voice was hollow now, strained. Not the commanding titan of Thorne Global but a father on the edge.She didn’t turn. “Hope is a dangerous drug, Damon”,“So is despair”,Finally, she faced him. Her eyes, usually warm, were rimmed with ice. “They contacted us. Ryder intercepted the message”,Damon’s shoulders

The ballroom of the Rosewood Grand shimmered like a gilded battlefield. Massive crystal chandeliers bathed the grand room in golden light, casting glittering reflections on the marble floor. The air buzzed with whispered gossip and the quiet clinking of champagne flutes. But under the surface elegance pulsed an undercurrent of war. Tonight’s charity gala was not just a fundraiser, it was a confrontation decades in the making.Juliette stood poised at the top of the grand staircase, regal in a burgundy silk gown that cascaded like blood-red waves. Her chignon revealed the delicate curve of her neck, but her eyes were hard, scanning the crowd with purpose. Every inch of her appearance was carefully chosen not to impress, but to intimidate. She was no longer the forgotten wife. She was the storm that Celeste had never anticipated.Damon entered moments later through the main archway. The crowd shifted instinctively as if the room itself made way for him. Dressed in a tailored black tuxedo

The storm had been brewing for months. Lies had been exposed; alliances shattered, and wounds both old and new left open. Now, as the sun set over the Thorne skyline, Damon and Juliette stood shoulder-to-shoulder, prepared to end the war that had almost cost them everything.Their headquarters was no longer Damon's sprawling penthouse but a high-security operations suite in a discreet downtown building. Around a large conference table sat the remnants of Damon's loyal inner circle; those who hadn't been bought, blackmailed, or broken. Each of them wore the same expression: hardened focus and barely concealed fury.Juliette stood at the head of the table, her fingers flying over a laptop as a digital schematic of Celeste’s empire glowed on the wall-mounted screen."Celeste controls everything through three main fronts," she explained, her voice clear and commanding. "The first is her financial web shell companies, offshore accounts, and falsified ledgers. We've already submitted the evi