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Home / Romance / Savage Reborn: Dumped Him to Marry the Billionaire / Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

All Chapters of Savage Reborn: Dumped Him to Marry the Billionaire: Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

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Chapter 131

Hale Science Division. Sector 1 (Deep R&D).Sunday. 2:00 PM."I bet I can see Dad's mullet with this," Leo Hale said, leaning dangerously close to the containment field."Dad never had a mullet," Lyra replied, her fingers flying across a holographic keyboard. "He had a 'tactical mane.' There is a distinction.""Whatever. It was tragic," Leo insisted. "Crank it up. I want to see the 90s in 4K resolution."The Twins were currently standing in the center of the Forbidden Lab—the one Vespera had explicitly locked with a bio-metric seal that Lyra had bypassed in under three minutes.Between them hovered a cube of pulsating blue light.The Quantum Viewer.It was supposed to be a passive observation device—a window into the past using residual light particles trapped in the atmosphere. A glorified history channel."The stabilizer is at 80%," Lyra noted, taking a sip of her hazelnut latte. "If we push it to 100%, the temporal feedback might liquify our internal organs.""Details," Leo waved h

Chapter 132

Sector 4. The Alley.October 14, 2024. 8:15 PM.The switchblade was steady. The hand holding it was shaking, just barely, but the eyes behind it were dead calm."I asked a question," Young Vespera hissed. Rain dripped from her nose. "Who sent you? Was it Lysander? Did he hire a boy band to ambush me?"Leo, Altair, and Lyra stood in the dumpster, hands raised."Boy band?" Leo whispered, offended. "I mean, I have the range, but...""Shut up, Leo," Altair hissed. He stepped forward, putting himself between the knife and his siblings."We aren't with Lysander," Altair said calmly, using his 'Boardroom Voice'. "We're... independent contractors.""Contractors," Vespera repeated, eyeing Altair’s ruined three-piece suit. "You're wearing Italian silk in a garbage pile. You look like you fell out of a magazine that fell into a sewer.""It's a bold fashion statement," Lyra offered, adjusting her glasses. "Derelicte chic."Vespera narrowed her eyes. She looked at Altair. Then she looked at Leo.S

Chapter 133

The Grand Hotel Ballroom. Sector 1.The Founders’ Gala.October 14, 2024. 10:00 PM.The ballroom was a sea of black ties and fake smiles. A string quartet played something inoffensive in the corner, drowned out by the clinking of champagne flutes and the murmur of corporate gossip.Standing by the shrimp tower, three figures in pristine evening wear surveyed the room.Altair wore a midnight-blue tuxedo that fit too perfectly for a mere bodyguard. Lyra wore a sharp black pantsuit with her hair slicked back. Leo wore a white dinner jacket, looking like a spy from an old movie.They each tapped their discreet earpieces—stolen from the Hale Armory an hour ago."Comms check," Altair whispered. "Status report.""Target Alpha (Dad) is by the bar, drinking scotch and glaring at anyone who comes within five feet," Lyra reported, adjusting her glasses. "Target Beta (Mom) is near the terrace doors, looking like she wants to stab someone with a cocktail stick.""And the vibe?" Leo asked, popping

Chapter 134

The Grand Hotel. Staff Break Room.October 14, 2024. 11:30 PM.The party was raging three floors up, but down here, in the concrete bowels of the hotel, it was quiet.The break room smelled of stale coffee and industrial cleaner. A single fluorescent light flickered with a maddening bzzt-bzzt rhythm.Oryn sat on a folding metal chair. He was alone.He wasn't eating. He wasn't on his phone. He held a six-inch tactical combat knife in one hand and a whetstone in the other.Shhhk. Shhhk. Shhhk.The sound was rhythmic. Meditative. It was the only music Oryn understood.At twenty-eight years old, Oryn was already a legend in the underworld, but a ghost in the real one. He had no friends. He had no family. He had Cyprian Hale, who treated him like a dangerous but valuable tool.Oryn was fine with that. Tools didn't get their hearts broken. Tools didn't get lonely.The door creaked open.Oryn didn't look up, but his grip on the knife shifted. He calculated the distance to the door. Twelve fe

Chapter 135

The Grand Hotel Roof. Sector 1 (Past).October 14, 2024. 11:55 PM.The wind on the roof was strong enough to peel the paint off the ventilation units.Above the helipad, the sky was tearing open. A swirling vortex of violet and blue energy crackled, spitting sparks onto the wet concrete. It looked less like a science experiment and more like a hole in the universe."Stability is dropping!" Lyra shouted over the roar of the wind, clutching her laptop (which she had stolen back from the office). "We have thirty seconds before the window closes! If we miss it, we're stuck in 2024 forever!""I can't stay in 2024!" Leo yelled, holding his white dinner jacket closed against the rain. "The internet speed is garbage and I haven't invented my skincare line yet!""Jump!" Altair commanded, pushing them toward the swirling light. "On my mark! Three... two..."CLANG.The heavy steel access door behind them swung open.Altair froze. He spun around, putting himself between the portal and the intrude

Chapter 136

Neo-Veridia. Sector 4. Outside Hale Tower.Monday. 9:00 AM.The rain in this city didn't wash things clean. It just made the grime slicker.Vesper Thorne stood on the sidewalk, looking up at the monolithic steel spire of Hale Corp. He was soaking wet. His black hair was plastered to his forehead, and his trench coat—the only thing he had managed to salvage from his previous life—was heavy with water.He caught his reflection in the glass of the revolving doors.He looked like a tragedy waiting for a headline. High cheekbones, dark eyes that held too much shadow, and a mouth that naturally rested in a cynical smirk. He was handsome. Painfully so. It was the kind of face that made waitresses drop trays and made rich women open their checkbooks.It was also the face of a dead man.Vesper touched his chest. Under the damp shirt, his heart was beating.Thump. Thump.Yesterday, it had stopped.He remembered the screech of tires. He remembered the feeling of the guardrail giving way. He reme

Chapter 137

The Golden Mile. "Le Blanc" Bespoke Clothiers.Monday. 11:00 AM.The fitting room was larger than Vesper’s old apartment. It had velvet walls, three mirrors, and a scent of lavender that was probably pumped in through the AC.Vesper Thorne stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the cuffs of a midnight-blue tuxedo jacket.He looked at himself. The wet trench coat was gone. The drowned rat look was gone. In its place was something dangerous. The suit fit him like a second skin, accentuating the width of his shoulders and the narrow taper of his waist."Are you building a rocket in there, or putting on pants?" a voice called from the showroom.Vesper smirked. He checked his hair—perfectly styled by the boutique’s resident stylist—and opened the curtain.The showroom was a temple of minimalism and excess. White marble floors, gold fixtures, and absolutely no price tags, because if you had to ask, you were in the wrong zip code.Cyra Hale sat on a plush velvet sofa in the center of the ro

Chapter 138

Hale Corp. The Executive Boardroom.Wednesday. 10:00 AM.The Boardroom was a shark tank, except the sharks were wearing Italian wool suits and smelled of Old Spice.Cyra Hale sat at the head of the obsidian table. She was perfectly still, her hands clasped over a file folder. She looked like a queen holding court before an execution.To her right sat the Board of Directors—twelve men whose combined age was somewhere in the quadruple digits.To her left, lounging in a swivel chair and spinning it slightly back and forth, was Vesper.He was wearing the charcoal silk suit Cyra had bought him yesterday. He looked devastatingly handsome and utterly out of place. He was playing a game on his phone with the volume turned just low enough to be annoying but not grounds for expulsion."This is preposterous, Cyra," Director Sterling barked. He was a man with more jowls than sense. "You bring a... a companion to the quarterly security briefing?""He is my fiancé," Cyra corrected coolly. "He has a

Chapter 139

Sector 9. Abandoned Shipping Warehouse.Wednesday. 3:00 PM.The chair was uncomfortable. It was metal, rusted, and dug into Vesper’s spine in all the wrong places.His hands were zip-tied behind his back. His ankles were duct-taped to the chair legs.Vesper Thorne sighed, blowing a lock of hair out of his eyes."You know," Vesper said, his voice echoing in the empty, cavernous warehouse. "This is incredibly unoriginal. An abandoned warehouse? In Sector 9? Lysandra, darling, you watch too many movies."Lysandra stood in front of him. She was pacing, her heels clicking nervously on the concrete. Behind her stood Elias—Vesper’s treacherous brother—holding a pistol that looked like it hadn't been cleaned in a decade. Two hired goons stood by the door, looking bored."Shut up!" Lysandra snapped. She looked haggard. Her eyes were rimmed with red, her expensive dress wrinkled. "You don't get to talk, Vesper. You're the hostage.""I'm the husband," Vesper corrected. "Of Cyra Hale. Do you unde

Chapter 140

The Grand Cathedral of Neo-Veridia.Saturday. High Noon.The paparazzi line stretched for three blocks.It was, according to the news feeds streaming on every digital billboard in the city, the "Merger of the Century." Or, if you read the tabloids, "The Ice Queen Buys a Prince."Vesper Thorne didn't mind the headlines. In fact, he found them hilarious.He stood in the vestibule of the massive, gothic cathedral, adjusting his cuffs.Traditionally, the groom wore black. Traditionally, the groom waited at the altar, sweating and checking his watch.But Vesper Thorne was not a traditional groom. And Cyra Hale was certainly not a traditional bride.Vesper was wearing white.It was a bespoke tuxedo of ivory silk, tailored so sharply it could cut glass. The lapels were satin, the shirt was spun from Egyptian cotton, and his bowtie was a deep, charcoal grey to match Cyra’s eyes.He looked like a vision. He looked like the prize."Stop fidgeting," Oryn grumbled.Oryn stood beside him, wearing

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