All Chapters of The Billionaire’s Betrayed Bride: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

RILEY'S POV The phone hit the floor before I realised my hand had opened but I was already moving. Keys, shoes, jacket. The door slammed hard enough that the frame rattled, the sound sharp and final like a gunshot in the quiet apartment. I didn’t check the lock, and didn't breathe properly. My body ran on instinct, pure and feral, the kind that bypasses fear entirely and goes straight for damage.Claire.A car and a familiar female voice.My chest burned as I took the stairs two at a time, thoughts fracturing and reforming too fast to hold. I called her but it went straight to voicemail. Again and again. The third time my hands started shaking so badly I almost dropped the phone.This wasn’t a threat sent through intermediaries. This wasn’t careful, distant or deniable.This was possession.By the time I slid into my car, my pulse was roaring in my ears. I should have called Aiden. I knew that. The rational part of my brain screamed it, loud and insistent. But rationality drowne

RILEY'S POV The bus pulled away before I could second-guess myself. Its exhaust lingered in the air as it disappeared down the narrow road, leaving behind a quiet that felt almost staged. Too clean and intentional. I stood there with my bag at my feet, the late afternoon sun warming the back of my neck, and let the stillness settle. No honking cars, no phone vibrating in my pocket. No one watching me the way I’d grown used to. Just space.It felt like fate as I'd been longing for a time away from everything. This was the perfect time.The retreat center sat a short walk from the road, tucked between tall trees and a stretch of water that shimmered faintly in the distance. It wasn’t luxurious or dramatic. Just neutral. Wooden cabins, wide windows. A schedule pinned to a board near the entrance that listed workshops and free hours in equal measure.A short out of town assignment had been fixed by the company. I hadn't been aware of it, not until my name somehow popped out in the l

RILEY'S POVThe retreat center sat on the edge of a lake that looked like it had never been asked to hurry. Trees leaned in lazily, their reflections stretching across the water like they had all the time in the world. People moved slower here. Voices dropped without anyone asking, even footsteps sounded careful, like no one wanted to disturb the calm by accident.Riley stood near the path that led down to the dock, sunlight catching in her hair, sleeves rolled up, notebook tucked under her arm like it belonged there. She looked lighter, not happy in a loud, triumphant way. Just unburdened, like someone who had finally put something heavy down and was still surprised her arms didn’t ache anymore.I hadn't told her I was attending the retreat too. It was obvious she needed a little time away from everything, I wanted her to have that space without feeling suffocated by my constant proximity.Aiden was a few steps behind her. And that’s when it hit me.This wasn’t tension, danger, or

AIDEN'S POV The wooden steps creaked softly beneath my weight as I stepped onto the porch. The evening air was cool, carrying the faint scent of pine and something sweet from the nearby food stalls that hadn’t yet closed for the night. The sky was in that in-between state, no longer blue, not yet dark, washed in bruised purples and fading gold.Riley sat on the edge of the porch swing, feet bare against the floorboards, knees drawn up slightly as if she hadn’t decided whether she was resting or ready to leave again. Her hair was loosely tied, strands escaping around her face, catching the light when she shifted.She didn’t look at me when I came out. Not because she was avoiding me, but because she knew I was there.I leaned against the railing instead of sitting beside her, gave her space she hadn’t asked for but instinctively needed. The swing rocked once, slow and uneven, then stilled. The quiet stretched.It wasn’t awkward, that was the strange part.For most of my life, sile

AIDEN'S POV The sound of the door closing behind Riley was soft, almost polite.I stood in the hallway longer than necessary, keys still in my hand, listening to the quiet settle back into place. Her footsteps faded down the corridor, unhurried. No tension or hesitation. Just the rhythm of someone moving through space they felt safe in.That, more than anything, was what finally forced me to stop.I didn’t follow.The instinct flared, sharp and immediate, the same one that had guided him for years. Track her steps, ask where she was going, offer to drive. Check the time, the route, the variables. It rose in me like muscle memory, as natural as breathing. And then I let it pass.The hallway light flickered once before steadying. I exhaled, slow, deliberate, and set his keys down on the console instead of pocketing them. It felt absurdly difficult, like forcing my hands to unclench after holding something too tightly for too long.This was what stepping back looked like.Not leav