All Chapters of The Billionaire's Forgotten Night: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Annabelle clapped sharply, the sound slicing through the tense garden air. From the shadows, a few figures emerged — tall, imposing men whose presence radiated quiet menace. Brian froze mid-breath, eyes narrowing in confusion. Are… are they… gay? Why are they here? What’s she planning now?“They’re sadistic, Brian,” Annabelle said, voice dripping venom. “And today… you’re their prey.” She let the words hang, a predator savoring the fear it inspired, then turned on her heel. Marc and his men followed silently, their steps measured, deliberate — shadows hunting their mark.Brian scrambled to his feet, staggering backward, hands raised in desperate defense. “Annabelle! Please! Let me go! I know I was wrong! I’m sorry! Please, don’t—” His screams echoed across the campus grounds, swallowed by the walls and hedges around him. Panic and humiliation twisted his voice into raw desperation.Annabelle’s smirk tugged at her lips, sharp and triumphant. She let herself linger for a heartbeat, savo

The engines of the private jet purred softly across the tarmac, gleaming beneath the mellow afternoon sun. Annabelle stood at the bottom of the steps, one hand instinctively brushing over her flat stomach — still hard to believe that somewhere deep inside, a tiny heartbeat had just begun.“Easy there,” Richard said, immediately reaching out to steady her elbow. “Watch your step, Belle. It’s a steep climb.”Annabelle shot him a look, half amused, half exasperated. “Richard, I’m pregnant, not made of glass.”His jaw tightened slightly, that familiar mix of protectiveness and authority flickering across his face. They’d only found out this week, and he was already behaving like she was made of porcelain.“Still,” he murmured, his hand not leaving hers, “I’m not taking any chances. You trip once, and I’ll personally have the stairs redesigned.”Hazel snorted from behind them, linking arms with her boyfriend, Jordan. “Overprotective much?” she muttered under her breath.Marc, standing by t

Richard's deep blue eyes hard as flint. He turned to the bathroom door and called, "Thirty minutes, Belle. Don't make me come in there."Annabelle stepped out, the gown hugging her perfectly, the deep crimson fabric flowing down like liquid silk. The neckline framed her collarbones - delicate yet bold - while the slit along her thigh hinted at quiet confidence. Her hair, still damp and loosely pinned back, gave her the look of someone half-evoked from a dream. Her gaze met his: sleep-stung, bewildered, yet strangely composed.Richard froze for a moment - not the ruthless mogul the world knew, but a man utterly disarmed."Damn," he muttered under his breath, eyes darkening just slightly. "You walk out like that, and I might just cancel the shopping trip altogether."Annabelle blinked, half amused, half flustered. "Don't even think about it. You're the one who shoved me into this thing, remember?"He smirked. "And now I regret nothing."She rolled her eyes, grabbing her clutch. "You're

The chaos parted as Richard Barton. stepped through the doorway — tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in black from head to toe, his long trench coat flowing behind him like a dark wave. His presence alone froze the room.His jaw was clenched, eyes burning with controlled fury — the kind that made men regret ever crossing him. Jordan flanked him on one side, Marc on the other, their expressions grim and ready.Lucas, dagger still in hand, took a shaky step back. “Richard Barton… in the flesh,” he said mockingly, trying to sound composed — but the tremor in his voice betrayed him.Richard’s gaze dropped to Abigail’s lifeless body, blood pooling beneath the chair. Then to Annabelle — bound, tear-streaked, trembling.His eyes darkened. His voice, when it came, was cold enough to cut bone.“You just broke the only rule that kept you breathing, Lucas.”Lucas forced a smirk. “She ran her mouth. I silenced her. You’d have done the same.”Richard’s lip twitched — a ghost of a smile, but it didn’t

Jordan just laughed louder, shaking his head. “And there he goes — husband mode, activated.”Marc raised his glass with a smirk. “To Mrs. Barton — the only woman on earth who can make Richard Barton lose his damn cool.”The beat dropped, the crowd roared, and as Richard cut through the crowd toward the private hallway — fury etched across his face — Jordan and Marc clinked their glasses again, smirking like men who knew exactly what kind of storm they’d just set loose.His steps grew sharper the closer he got to the private room Jordan had booked for Hazel and Annabelle. The muffled thrum of music and laughter leaked out through the closed door, but then — a soft, melodic sound stopped him mid-step.A soft, melodic voice floated through the glass — slightly tipsy, yet clear — singing with gentle abandon, wrapped in a warmth that tugged at his chest. Annabelle.He froze, heart skipping. He had never heard her sing like this — her voice so tender, so full of warmth, a private melody he