All Chapters of Married To My Arrogant Billionaire Enemy : Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

BROOKLYN The drive back felt like a blur.Flashes of red and blue lights danced across the tinted windows, chasing each other through the darkness as the police cars stayed behind at the hotel. But even with the distance, I could still hear it—the chaos, the shouting, the shrill rise of sirens, and the unmistakable crash of glass when someone dropped a champagne tower in the dark. The world had descended into panic, and yet, here inside the car, everything was too still. Too quiet.And I could still feel his hand around mine.Dominic hadn’t let go once—not when the lights flickered back on, not when the security teams rushed in, not even when the cameras outside tried to capture the picture-perfect image of the calm billionaire couple leaving early. His hand had stayed there, firm and grounding, as if he was anchoring me—or maybe himself.He looked calm on the outside. Every inch of him composed, jaw set, eyes forward, posture straight. But I could feel it—the quiet tension running t

DOMINIC There’s a certain sound that comes before things break. It’s quiet—too quiet. Like the world holds its breath right before the glass cracks. That’s what tonight feels like. The house was asleep. Even the security lights had dimmed into a low amber glow, flickering faintly against the marble floors. Somewhere in the east wing, Brooklyn was probably still awake. I could almost imagine her—sitting by that window again, staring out at the city like it might give her answers I couldn’t. I wanted to check on her. But not yet. Not until I’d handled the man who’d tried to turn my life into a chessboard. Not until I’d faced Adrian Vale. My phone buzzed once in my pocket. A single message. Location sent. No guards. Come alone. I slipped on my coat, grabbed my keys, and left through the side exit. The night air was sharp against my skin, clean in a way money never was. The car engine purred to life as I drove through the empty streets—past the glass towers, past the city that

-BROOKLYN-The mansion wasn’t just quiet. It was the kind of silence that hummed underneath everything — like the air itself was holding its breath.Two days had passed since that night — the fight, the blood, the chaos that shattered what little calm we had.Now, everything was under watch.Extra guards patrolled the gates, unfamiliar faces in black suits stationed near the east wing, their earpieces glinting whenever they moved. Even the maids whispered more quietly, like sound itself had become a risk.I hadn’t seen Dominic much since that night.Every morning, I’d catch a glimpse of him through the hallway glass — tall, composed, but slower than usual. A faint stiffness in the way he walked. He didn’t look like the kind of man who’d been stabbed or punched or whatever the hell happened that night — but I’d seen the blood myself. I’d knelt beside it, shaking, before Mr. Alcott quietly ushered me and Elliot upstairs.It was gone now, the stain scrubbed off the marble, but I still sa

BROOKLYN There was another bruise, a new one. Barely visible under the sharp line of his jaw, but there. A faint mark, almost the color of old wine, right beneath Dominic’s left cheekbone. He didn’t notice me watching him at first. He was sitting at the edge of the bed, sleeves rolled up, typing something on his phone with the same relentless focus he used for everything — except himself. “You didn’t sleep,” I said quietly. He didn’t look up. “Neither did you.” “Because I heard you come in at three in the morning.” “That’s not unusual for me.” I crossed my arms. “The bruise is.” That made him pause. He finally looked at me — and there it was, that subtle flicker of something he didn’t want me to see. Guilt, maybe. Or exhaustion pretending to be control. “It’s nothing,” he said. “A misunderstanding.” “With who? A wall? You just said you were going to talk to him. Did you get into a fight? Who exactly is he?” “Brooklyn.” He said my name in that tone that mea

BROOKLYNThe moment shattered — clean, sharp, and immediate.Dominic’s eyes hardened again, that softness I’d glimpsed vanishing behind the steel mask he knew how to wear too well.He stepped back.Straightened his shoulders.Lifted his chin.The Dominic Blackwell everyone else knew came back in less than a second.“Come in,” he called, his voice clipped.Gerald entered quickly, shutting the door behind him with the urgency of someone carrying something dangerous.“Sir,” he began, eyes flicking between Dominic and me, “two things.”Dominic’s jaw ticked. “Go on.”“One — additional CCTV footage from the shopping district came in. We’re reviewing it to identify the man who approached your wife, but… so far it looks clean. He disguised himself well.”My stomach sank.Disguised.Of course he did.“And the second?” Dominic asked.Gerald hesitated — and when Gerald hesitated, it was never good.“We’ve picked up unusual digital movement. Someone accessed an old server linked to the first Blac