Todos los capítulos de Sold to the Disfigured Billionaire: Capítulo 41 - Capítulo 50

Isabella didn't leave quietly. She screamed. She threw a Ming vase (which shattered). She threatened to sue everyone. But in the end, two of Sebastian’s burly bodyguards simply lifted her by her arms and carried her out the front door like a bag of trash."This isn't over!" Isabella screamed from the driveway as they tossed her Louis Vuitton bags onto the gravel. "I am a Vance! You can't do this to me!"Inside the library, the silence was heavy.Richard Vance sat in the armchair, holding the old photo of Catherine, weeping silently. He looked ten years older. The arrogant tycoon was gone; only a regretful old man remained."I didn't know," Richard whispered, his voice cracking. "Catherine... she left a note saying she met someone else. She said she was happy. I thought... I thought I was letting her go.""She lied," Harper said softly, standing by the window. "She lied to protect me. And to protect you from your family."Richard looked up at her. He saw Catherine’s strength in her eye

The warehouse smelled of rust, dead fish, and gasoline. Sunlight sliced through the broken roof, illuminating dust motes dancing in the stagnant air.Sebastian pushed the warehouse door open. He was alone. He pushed an empty wheelchair in front of him."I'm here!" Sebastian’s voice echoed in the vast, empty space. "Isabella! Come out!"A slow clap echoed from the catwalk above. "Bravo," Isabella’s voice drip with sarcasm. "You actually came alone. And you brought your... throne."She walked down the metal stairs, her heels clanking. She was wearing a dirty white dress—a mockery of a wedding gown. Her makeup was smeared, making her look like a broken doll. Behind her, the mercenary Kruger dragged a chair into the light.Tied to the chair was Harper. She was wearing her magnificent Vera Wang wedding dress. The train was soiled with grease and dirt. Her mouth was taped shut. Her eyes were wide with terror. When she saw Sebastian, she started struggling violently, making muffled noises. M

One Month Later. Vance Corporation Tower. 50th Floor."Miss Evans... excuse me, Miss Vance. The Board is waiting."Harper turned away from the floor-to-ceiling window. She looked different. Her long, wavy hair—the hair Sebastian loved to run his fingers through—was gone. It was cut into a sharp, chic bob that framed her jawline like a blade. She wasn't wearing a floral dress or a nurse's uniform. She wore a tailored white pantsuit, sky-high stilettos, and a single piece of jewelry: the Pink Diamond engagement ring, which she wore on her right hand, not her left. A symbol of a promise kept, but a relationship broken."Let them wait," Harper said coolly. "Is Victoria there?"The assistant swallowed nervously. "Yes. Mrs. Vance arrived from London this morning. She... she is not happy about your appointment as Vice President."Harper smirked. It was a cold, humorless smile. "Good. Unhappy people make mistakes."She walked into the boardroom. Twenty men in grey suits stood up. At the head

Sterling Estate. 11:00 PM.The phone rang. It wasn't a normal ringtone. It was the Red Alert alarm on Sebastian’s private server.Sebastian, who had been brooding in his study with a glass of whiskey, answered immediately. "Talk.""Sir," the head of IT shouted over the sound of typing. "We are being hacked! Someone bypassed the firewall. They are targeting the blueprints for the new Aero-Engine!""Cut the connection," Sebastian ordered, his fingers flying across his own keyboard."We can't! It's a polymorphic virus. It's eating through our encryption. If we shut down, it deletes everything. If we stay online, it copies everything.""Who is it?""The trace leads to... a shell company in the Cayman Islands. But the code signature... it looks familiar."Sebastian narrowed his eyes. He knew that code. It was a variation of a banking trojan used by Vance Capital five years ago. Victoria."I'm locking the system down from here," Sebastian said. "I need the physical master key.""Sir, the ma

Vance Capital. Vice President's Office.A gold-embossed envelope landed on Harper’s desk. It didn't come by mail. It was hand-delivered by Victoria’s personal assistant, who dropped it like it was a bomb and ran.Harper picked it up. The paper was thick, expensive, and smelled of Victoria’s perfume.[ You are cordially invited to the 30th Annual Vance Charity Gala. ] [ Theme: Masquerade. ] [ Date: Tomorrow Night. ]There was a handwritten note on the back, in elegant, sharp script: "Don't be late, darling. The world is dying to meet the 'Noodle Shop Princess'. Try not to embarrass the family name. — Victoria"Harper crumpled the note. It wasn't an invitation. It was a summons to an execution. Victoria wanted to parade her in front of the elite, highlight her humble background, and watch her crumble under the pressure.Harper picked up her phone. She dialed a number. "Liam? Cancel my meetings for tomorrow afternoon." "And get me the best stylist in the city. I need a dress. A dress tha