All Chapters of MARRIED TO MR POPULAR : Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Cynthia stood in front of her open wardrobe, staring at the rows of dresses like a woman deciding her fate. It wasn’t a big party, nothing formal, but she wanted to look nice. Presentable. Confident. She hadn’t been to anything social in a while, not without Xavier beside her, and something inside her stirred with equal parts excitement and nerves.Her fingers brushed over fabrics until she settled on a soft wine-colored dress that hugged her waist just enough but flowed freely around her thighs. It wasn’t too loud, but it felt feminine. She paired it with simple gold earrings and curled her hair loosely over her shoulders.The mirror reflected someone who looked slightly different from the girl she was months ago—lighter, softer, growing into herself again.Before leaving, she stepped into the living room and took a picture, sending it to Xavier.Heading out now. Don’t worry, I’ll be safe ❤️His reply came almost immediately.You look beautiful. Please be careful.She smiled, slid he

Cynthia’s throat felt dry, her pulse pounding loud enough that it drowned the tiny sounds in the cold dark room. The moment the heavy door creaked open, she froze. Her wrists were tied tightly behind the chair, her ankles bound, her skin burning where the ropes cut in. The dim overhead bulb flickered, barely lighting the space, yet she could make out the outline of a tall figure walking toward her slowly.Her breath caught as he stepped into the light.It wasn’t someone she recognized. At least, not at first glance. His features were sharp, almost painfully familiar in a way that made her stomach twist. His eyes held a coldness she had never seen before, but there was something else too—something that reminded her of Xavier. A strange resemblance, like looking into a darker, older reflection of him.His presence alone made the air feel heavier.He stopped right in front of her, gaze studying her with a calmness that felt more terrifying than anger. Calm people in moments like this wer

Xavier was bone tired by the time he pulled into the driveway, but the moment he stopped the car, he felt that familiar pull the need to hear Cynthia’s voice. It had become a habit, this simple check–in. Ever since the party invitation, he’d been restless in a way he didn’t want to admit. He respected her freedom, trusted her decisions, but something about Eva set a quiet alarm ringing in the back of his mind. Still, he reminded himself that Cynthia was no child. She could handle herself.He picked up his phone and typed.“I’m outside. You home?”He waited for the two grey ticks to turn blue, expecting the usual quick reply. Cynthia always answered him, even if it was just a short message. But the ticks stayed grey. No delivery. No read.He frowned.Network issues, maybe. It happened.He leaned back in the seat and waited another minute, then two, tapping the steering wheel with a slow, restless rhythm. Something wasn’t right. He tried calling. The phone rang once, twice… and then wen

Xavier stood frozen in the center of his study, the phone still pressed to his ear even though the line had long gone dead. The words he had just heard replayed in his head in a slow, deliberate echo that sent a chill through his bones.Ask your father, Xavier. He knows exactly who I am.The voice had been calm too calm for a man claiming to have kidnapped someone. Calm enough to make the threat feel real in a way that punched him straight in the stomach.His breath came shorter, heavier. The room suddenly felt smaller, tighter, as though the walls were inching closer. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to steady himself, but nothing about this moment felt steady.Cynthia was gone.And now some stranger no, not a stranger, someone pretending to be connected—was claiming to have her.Xavier grabbed his car keys again, pacing like a caged animal. He wanted to drive out, tear through the city, break every door until he found her. But that one sentence kept him rooted. Ask your father

The dim light of the room barely reached Adrian’s sharp features, but he didn’t need it. He knew every corner of this space, every shadow that might hide a mistake. The subtle hum of the fan overhead and the faint creak of the building settling were the only sounds accompanying him. He sat cross-legged on the floor, his eyes fixated on the ropes he had bound around Cynthia’s wrists and ankles, her slumped figure in the chair across from him. For anyone else, it would have looked like a simple act of cruelty, but for Adrian, it was carefully orchestrated justice—or at least, the only way he knew how to make them listen.He had watched the Sinclair family for years, carefully observing the rhythms of their lives. Xavier, the eldest, oblivious to the existence of a brother born out of secrecy, had lived his life in privilege, adored by his parents, and constantly praised for his accomplishments. Adrian had been relegated to shadows, whispers, and the occasional reminder from his father,