All Chapters of The Billionaire's Forgotten Night: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

"Miss Hamilton, please wait."Annabelle was making her way toward her room when Marc called out from behind."Yes...?" She turned with a raised brow."Could you do me a favor, please?" he asked earnestly.Annabelle studied his face. Marc, usually upbeat and full of charm, looked disturbed and troubled. He was the closest thing to an ally she had in this house. Not quite an angel in a den of monsters, but definitely the most human one."Sure. How can I help?"Marc had helped her more than once. She owed him a little kindness in return."Boss took a bullet in his left arm, but he's still working out in the gym like nothing happened. He shouldn't be."Annabelle blinked. "Of course he shouldn't. But since when has Richard Barton ever acted normal?"Richard Barton—the bane of her existence. He'd dragged her into this gilded cage, parading her as his mistress. Yet, there were moments—fleeting ones—when he wasn't the monster she had labeled him. Like when he changed her soaked clothes during

Annabelle stormed into the study first, jaw clenched and chin held high, fully expecting Richard Barton to unleash hell the moment the door clicked shut.But instead, he stood behind the massive desk like a statue—arms crossed, expression unreadable, not a flicker of anger on his face.She folded her arms and stared him down. “Before you jump to conclusions, I didn’t push your little darling. Julia tripped on her own lies and heels—and now she’s doing what she does best. Playing the victim.”Richard said nothing. Not even a blink.“I know what you're thinking,” she continued, tone sharp and fearless. “You’ll believe her over me, like always. After all, you two make such a lovely pair—your sweet-as-honey girlfriend and you. Richie and Julia. What a charming scum duo.”His eyes twitched.“Richie?” he repeated, lips twitching at the nickname.Annabelle smirked slightly, catching his reaction, then blinked as if remembering her anger. “Yes. Aren’t you the ‘Richie’ of your drama queen Juli

The double doors of Barton Enterprises slammed open with a bang, making every employee in the hallway freeze mid-step. Richard Barton stormed through like a hurricane, dragging Annabelle by the wrist. Gasps echoed, whispers followed, and a few stunned secretaries exchanged wide-eyed glances.He didn't care.His jaw was clenched, the muscle ticking violently, and his grip on her arm was like a vice. Annabelle stumbled after him, heels clicking against the marble floor, eyes darting to the spectators lining the corridor."Richard-let go! You're hurting me!" she snapped, but he didn't even flinch.He kicked his office door open and shoved her inside.She lost her balance and hit the ground hard, palms scraping against the floor as her folder slid across the tiles. The moment her body hit the ground, humiliation flared red-hot in her cheeks."Have you completely lost your damn mind?!" she yelled, scrambling to her feet.Richard slammed the door shut behind him and whirled around, fury rad

The soft rustle of Egyptian cotton brushed against her skin as Annabelle stirred.Her eyes fluttered open to silence—unfamiliar and unsettling. No gunshots. No screaming. No chaos.Just... stillness.She blinked up, and the white-and-silver tones surrounding her made her stomach drop.Richard’s room.The realization hit harder than the sharp pain behind her temple. Her fingers pressed against it instinctively.Then came the flash—the warehouse. The gun. The scream that tore from her throat before the world went black.Annabelle bolted upright with a gasp, her chest rising and falling in panic.“You’re awake.”That deep, cold voice sent a chill racing down her spine.Richard.He sat on the edge of an armchair, shirt sleeves rolled up, forearms resting on his knees. His posture looked casual—but his eyes were anything but. Cold. Sharp. Watching her like a lion eyeing wounded prey.Annabelle pulled the blanket off and swung her legs over the edge of the bed.“Are you disappointed?” she s

"Am I interrupting something?"Richard Barton’s voice was casual, but the underlying warning was unmistakable. He leaned against the doorframe, hands tucked in his pockets, his sharp gaze trained on Jordan.Annabelle didn’t flinch. Her eyes didn’t leave Richard’s as she replied, voice soft but firm, "Don’t pretend you're here out of concern for your best friend, Mr. Barton."Richard smiled. Not a warm smile. Not even amused. Just a subtle tug of his lips—calculated, composed, dangerous.“Concern?” he echoed, stepping into the balcony, his hands in his pockets like he had all the time in the world. “Oh no, Ms. Hamilton. I’m merely keeping the peace. We wouldn’t want to ruin Hazel’s dinner with a screaming match, would we?”Annabelle’s eyes darkened. “You mean, your little scheme.”Jordan shifted beside her, visibly tense, his lips pressed in a hard line.Annabelle stepped closer to Richard, her voice soft but sharpened with iron.“Let me be very clear,” she said, “I don’t care what dir