Lahat ng Kabanata ng PREGNANT BY MY HUSBAND’S RIVAL: THE BILLIONAIRE'S REVENGE : Kabanata 41 - Kabanata 50

#JAIL# The light in the prison room was very white and cold. Mark sat at the small table. He looked at the thick stack of papers in front of him. Julian stood by the door with his arms crossed. He looked like he was bored, but his eyes were watching every move Mark made."Is this everything?" Mark asked. His voice was very quiet."Everything," Julian said. "You sign those, and you are no longer Mark Montgomery. You are nobody. You give me the shares. You give me the house. You give me the rights to everything in your name. In return, the police get a call. They get told the missing person case was a mistake. You walk out of here tonight."Mark picked up the pen. His hand was shaking. "You really have it all planned out, don't you? I don’t know why you have it out for me, you have the biggest company ever an you still want my life.”"I am a businessman, Mark," Julian said. "I like to clear my debts. You are a debt that needs to be paid. Sign the papers."Mark looked at the first page

The fire was small at first. It climbed the silk curtains like a glowing orange snake. Elena stood by the open window, her heart hitting her ribs like a hammer. The room was getting hot. The sweet smell of her expensive perfume was being replaced by the thick, biting scent of smoke."Go," she whispered to herself. "Don't look back. Just go."She climbed out onto the stone ledge. The wind was cold, and it bit at her skin. Below her, the garden was dark. She could see the silhouettes of the guards near the front gate, but they were looking at their phones. They didn't know the master suite was turning into a furnace.Elena grabbed the thick ivy that covered the side of the mansion. Her hands were shaking. She climbed down slowly, her feet searching for the wall. Every time a leaf crunched, she froze. "Please," she prayed, her eyes on the dark woods at the edge of the property. "Please let me get away."**Miles away, in a room that smelled of old cigarettes and spilled beer, Mark Mo

The elevator doors opened to the top-floor executive suite, but no one dared to look up. The staff at Vane Industries knew the rule: when Julian Vane walked through the halls, you lowered your head and stayed out of his way. Julian didn't look at them. He didn't say good morning. He walked with a heavy, fast stride, his expensive shoes clicking against the marble floor like a countdown. He reached his office door and threw it open without a word."Meeting in five minutes," he snapped at his assistant, who was already standing by his desk with a tablet. "If the marketing team isn't in the boardroom by then, they can leave their badges at the front desk on their way out.""Sir, the meeting was scheduled for ten," She whispered, her hands shaking. "It’s only nine-fifteen."Julian stopped. He turned slowly, his eyes cold and sharp. He leaned over her desk, his shadow covering her completely. "Do I look like I care about the schedule?" Julian asked. His voice was low, which was always m

Mark’s POVThe office was a dump. It was a basement under a warehouse, smelling of damp concrete and cheap coffee. But I didn't care. I sat in a plastic chair, watching the man across from me. His name was Thomas. He had been a high-level accountant for Vane Industries until Julian fired him and sued him into bankruptcy for a mistake he didn't even make. "He took my house," Thomas said, his voice shaking with rage. "He told the banks I was a thief. My wife left me. I have nothing."I leaned forward. "Julian Vane doesn't see people, Thomas," I said. "He sees tools. When the tool is slightly bent, he throws it in the trash. That’s why we are here. We are the trash coming back to burn his house down." Thomas looked at me. "And you? Why do you hate him so much?" I touched the faint scar on my ribs where Julian’s men had kicked me five years ago. "He threw me out of the company I helped built up. But now I don't have anything to lose. That makes us dangerous." "What do we do?" Thomas

Julian’s POVThe private jet was moving fast, but it wasn't fast enough. The engines were screaming, and so was my mind. I couldn't sit down. I paced the narrow aisle of the plane, walking from the cockpit to the tail and back again. "Julian, sit down," Marcus said. He was sitting with his laptop, but his eyes were on me. "We will be there in twenty minutes. Pacing won't make the pilot fly faster.""Twenty minutes is too long!" I snapped. I stopped and gripped the back of a leather seat. My knuckles were white. "She has been gone for five years, Marcus. Five years! And my son... he’s been living in a shack while I slept on silk sheets. Do you know how that feels?""I know you’re angry," Marcus said calmly. "But you need to be steady. If you walk in there like a madman, you’ll terrify the boy. Is that how you want to meet your son? By scaring him?"I stopped. The word son hit me like a physical weight. I looked out the window at the clouds. I had imagined this moment a thousand times,