All Chapters of The Billionaire's Hidden Vows: Chapter 181 - Chapter 190

The great house stood in its mourning hush, as though the walls themselves had absorbed the echo of every confession, every cry, every whispered betrayal that had fallen within them. Savannah stood in the threshold of the gallery, her reflection fractured across the tall panes of glass where the night outside pressed like a tide of ink.The storm had passed, leaving the grounds drenched, the air sweet with petrichor, but her body carried the storm still. Colton’s words haunted her, vibrating in her like the toll of a bell struck at midnight: You were never meant to know.The gallery smelled faintly of smoke, though no fire burned in the hearth. She wondered if it was memory, the phantom scent of something long extinguished, or if the walls themselves exhaled it like secrets too long kept. She walked past portraits whose painted eyes followed her, pale faces from another century, all carrying the same inscrutable half-smile she now found unbearable.And then, she felt it—the hush was n

The ballroom glittered as though a thousand stars had been pulled down from the heavens and trapped within chandeliers. Crystal droplets swayed above silver platters. Music spilled from violins, not joyous but haunted, drawn-out notes vibrating like the bones of the dead. The long banquet table stretched endlessly, lined with delicacies too decadent, too rich—as if intended not for nourishment, but for spectacle and sin.Savannah entered on Colton’s arm, her body a taut bowstring, her soul caught between hunger and dread. The scent of roasted meats and rare wine clung to the air, mingled with perfumes that smothered the senses. Every guest turned their head when they entered—not out of polite recognition, but with a reverence that bordered on hunger. Their stares licked over Savannah’s form like invisible tongues.Colton, in his black tailored suit, looked like a sovereign come to preside over a ritual more than a feast. His jaw was hard, his gaze unreadable, yet his grip on her arm w

The road wound like a serpent through the dark pines, their skeletal arms knitting over the cracked pavement as if conspiring to blot out the last traces of moonlight. Savannah sat in the backseat of the black sedan, her hands clasped over her stomach as if she were shielding the life inside her from the night itself. Every mile carried them deeper into Colton’s past—the unspoken history that no courtroom testimony or corporate scandal could ever fully unravel.Colton sat beside her, rigid, his jaw set like iron, his gaze locked on the shifting horizon. He had not spoken in half an hour, and the silence pressed on her ears until it felt like a storm gathering inside the car. The driver—a man she did not know—kept his eyes fixed forward, saying nothing, a shade rather than a human presence.“Where are you taking me?” Savannah finally whispered, unable to endure the muteness any longer.Colton turned, his eyes gleaming like glass in the dim interior. “To the place where it all began. Yo

The boardroom gleamed like a sanctified temple of wealth and war, its walls paneled with mahogany so dark it swallowed the light, its chandelier a thousand crystals refracting suspicion in sharp, spectral fragments. The air was heavier than glass, weighted with old power, old grudges, and the perfume of polished ambition.Savannah sat at Colton’s right, her fingers clasped too tightly in her lap. Her presence had not been expected here—not by the board, not by Weston, and perhaps not even by Colton himself. Yet she was here, the young woman so many whispered about in corridors, the so-called pawn who somehow sat at the predator’s side.Colton leaned back in his chair, tailored in black so sharp it looked carved rather than sewn, his profile a study in arrogance. His eyes, however, burned with a restless, volcanic energy as they swept the length of the table, daring anyone to speak.And then Weston spoke.His voice, a serpent’s purr, slithered across the polished wood:“Are we to prete

The hours crawled like shadows thickening against the stone. The halls of the facility no longer echoed with footsteps, no longer sang with the hum of machinery or the whispered directives of men who once controlled empires from behind glass. Now, only silence endured, broken by the occasional groan of settling steel, the sigh of air through fractured vents.Savannah moved through it like a ghost stitched into the walls, her fingertips grazing doors that refused to open, her eyes searching every line of darkness for a sign that life still pulsed beneath the surface. The map Rhett had given her was folded in her pocket, worn soft at the creases, but its lines blurred now, distorted by fatigue, despair, and the cruel insistence of memory.Colton walked a step behind her, the weight of his presence both anchor and threat. His silence was not the silence of the corridors—it was alive, bristling, waiting. She could feel it press against her spine like a blade that might either shield her o