All Chapters of Betrayed Before the Vows: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The lights of the international airport shimmered like diamonds against the night sky, but to Serena, every flash felt like a prying eye. She hurried through the business class departure terminal, dragging her Louis Vuitton suitcase with her chin held high. Behind her oversized designer sunglasses, her eyes darted restlessly, scanning every corner.She had done it. Three million dollars sat securely in offshore accounts, and the Aero turbine secrets had been sold to Julian Vane. She felt not a shred of guilt leaving the crumbling wreck that was William. To her, William was merely a stepping stone that had finally cracked, and she was far too clever to sink with him."Flight to Zurich is opening soon," she muttered, checking the monitor.Zurich was a fresh start. There, she would be a top-tier socialite, far from the shadow of the "boring" Camelia and the suffocating emotional demands of William. She reached into her bag for her passport and boarding pass.However, as she reached the d

Time is a river that never flows backward, and for William, the past year has felt like a relentless current smashing him against the sharpest rocks at the bottom.The sun had just risen over Tanjung Priok Port, casting a dull orange glow over stacks of iron containers. William wiped the sweat from his forehead with a sleeve that had long since changed color from dust and oil. He had just finished his night shift as a crane operator and warehouse laborer. His body—once pampered with luxury spa treatments every weekend—now felt stiff, every joint creaking in protest under the strain of inhumane labor.He sat on an empty wooden crate, unscrewed a cheap bottle of mineral water, and stared at the hanging television in a small coffee stall by the port. The owner had tuned in to the morning business news.“C-Nova Systems has once again recorded a third-quarter growth of 45%,” the news anchor’s voice rang clearly, cutting through the roar of truck engines outside. “CEO Camelia, recently crow

​The heavy tropical rain of Jakarta transformed the narrow, unpaved alleys of the north into a treacherous sludge of mud and discarded plastic. Camelia sat in the back of her armored SUV, her eyes fixed on the tablet in her lap. She was visiting a community center funded by C-Nova—a pilot project providing vocational training for the urban poor. It was a PR move, yes, but for Camelia, it was also a personal mission to ensure that people at the bottom had the tools to climb, tools she had once used to build a fortress.​"The engine is overheating, Madam," the driver, a seasoned security professional named Haris, said with a frown. "The mud is too deep. The cooling fan must have sucked in some debris."​Camelia looked up. They were deep in a labyrinth of makeshift dwellings, where rusted corrugated iron roofs overlapped like the scales of a dying beast. "Can we move?"​"Not without risking a total engine seizure," Haris replied, checking his monitor. "I’ve called the backup team, but wi

The recovery was not a silent affair. For William, it was a feverish blur of antiseptic smells and the rhythmic dripping of rain against a window that—miraculously—did not leak. When he had collapsed in the alleyway near Pier 7, he expected the darkness to be final. Instead, he woke up forty-eight hours later in a modest but clean studio apartment in a district far removed from the stench of the northern slums.A local doctor, a man with tired eyes who asked no questions about bullet wounds, had arrived within hours of his relocation. "The Port Workers' Union has a special fund for 'accidents' involving corporate interference," the doctor had said dryly while stitching William’s shoulder. "Consider yourself lucky, Ruslan. Most men in your position end up in a ditch."William sat by the window now, his arm in a sling, staring at the street below. He knew it wasn't the union. He knew the "stroke of luck" that had provided this apartment, the fresh groceries in the small fridge, and the

The humidity of Singapore in March felt different than the dry cold of Berlin. To Camelia, it felt like a heavy, invisible hand pressing down on her shoulders. She stood on the balcony of her penthouse, looking out at the "Garden City," but her mind was thousands of miles away, locked in a digital ledger she couldn't stop analyzing."The board of the International Energy Council is meeting in forty-eight hours," Maya said, stepping out onto the balcony. She looked exhausted, her usual sharp suit slightly rumpled. "Aether-X has officially challenged our patent on the Phoenix 2.0. They’re claiming the core cooling technology was a joint venture with a defunct Russian firm they recently 'acquired.' It’s a legal swamp, Camelia."Camelia turned, her face a mask of calm, though her eyes were restless. "It’s not just a patent challenge, Maya. It’s a siege. They are trying to drain our legal reserves while they disrupt our supply chain in the Congo. Who is the face of Aether-X? I want a name.