All Chapters of Their Beautiful Madness: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

BeatriceAll day, the house has been alive with frantic energy. The staff have been darting through the halls like bees in a hive, their arms full of flowers, trays, and boxes of candles, each of them muttering under their breath as they hurry to wherever they're needed.The entryway, the very heart of the house, is almost unrecognizable. It's been transformed into something that could rival a ballroom. Every surface is draped, polished, and glittering with detail. Men climb ladders to adjust strings of lights, women smooth down tablecloths until there isn't a wrinkle in sight, and every time I blink, another arrangement of flowers appears in some perfect corner.Even Kathy has taken it upon herself to oversee the chaos, her voice sharp as she barks orders about where she wants her food displayed. She's demanding and flawless, like a queen ensuring her banquet is worthy of admiration.Despite the madness, I can't deny how breath

SilasMy house buzzes with more than a hundred people packed under one roof. Every corner hums with power, each one dangerous in their own right. The air is thick with music, low conversations, champagne bubbling in crystal glasses, and the constant clink of ice.On the surface, it looks like wealth and elegance. But underneath all that, every single person in this room has blood on their hands, one way or the other. I keep my expression calm, unreadable, and authoritative. That's what I'm known for, and appearances matter here more than the truth.I listen as much as I speak, every deal and whispered promise threading through the air. I just finished with a couple I know well enough; they sell weapons and scrub money clean through shell companies. We exchanged pleasantries, but beneath it, we're all speaking in code.I scan the crowd for the next conversation I'll end up getting dragged into. Then I feel fingers brushing my shoulder. It's Moris. She rounds to face me with a smile tha

The words repeat in my head. This can't be happening. It can't.As I stare at the cash, my eyes start to see something else entirely. Every smile she's ever given me. Every soft, trusting look from those wide, innocent eyes. Every brush of her hand, every time she's leaned into me, every night she sleeps by my side. Was it all a lie? Some form of manipulation? A trap she set so I wouldn't notice what she was doing behind my back?This doesn't make any sense. Beatrice isn't stupid. She knows my temper, my pride, my unforgivable nature. She knows the consequences of crossing me. And yet... here it is. The evidence, cruel and undeniable, staring me down.I trusted her. I let her in when I don't let anyone in. I love her, and she... she spit in my fucking face. This is something I can't forgive.I know her past. The struggle. The scraping by. The constant fight just to survive. It starts to make sense. She saw a man with money, with access, with a life she never had, and she stole from me

He chuckles. It's short, cruel, and suddenly twists into a snarl. His fist smashes into the nearest wall. The impact reverberates through the room, cracking the plaster. I flinch as though I was the one struck. "Keep fucking lying, Beatrice," he growls.The air thickens around us, suffocating, heavy with anger and disappointment. My throat closes, and I struggle to breathe. I won't be able to reconcile with this man. Whoever he is, it's not Silas.He storms toward my dresser, every step fueled by violence. He yanks the drawer open so hard the wood groans. His hand dives inside and pulls out thick stacks of cash. My heart plummets, my mouth falling open as if the air has been ripped from my lungs."What's this then, huh?" he snarls, each word dripping with accusation."I-I don't know where that came from." The words stumble out of me, clumsy and broken. "I would never steal from you. I've never stolen anything in my life."He chuckles again, but it sounds evil. "You think I'm stupid?"

AtticusI storm into Beatrice's room.Her vanity chair is overturned, glass is shattered across the hardwood, sheets are ripped from the bed. And in the center of the chaos is Silas. The one that always keeps his shit together, but he's lost it. Completely. He's slamming into furniture, his fists driving holes straight through walls. His face is twisted, red, and veins bulge in his neck as he rips at his own hair like he's trying to tear himself apart from the inside out.He's a fucking animal, but so am I. I'm fueled by rage, white-hot and blinding.My shoes pound against the floor as I close the distance between us. He doesn't see me coming until my fists are in his tux, yanking him off his feet. The weight of him barely registers; I'm too far gone. I throw him down, his back cracking against the floor with a thud that shakes the walls. The air rushes out of him in a grunt and before he can recover I straddle him, pinning him down."What the fuck did you do?" I roar, spit flying as