All Chapters of Betrayed By My Husband, I Married His Billionaire Uncle: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

ANIKAIcelyn had boarded a private jet to Boston early this morning to finalize the port union contracts, leaving me alone with the security detail stationed outside the main doors. Sitting on the plush velvet sofa in the sitting room, my hand rested gently over my lower stomach. The knowledge of my pregnancy still felt like a delicate, fragile secret. We had spent the last few days wrapped in a warm cocoon of hope, believing the dark shadows of our past were finally fading into memory.A sharp, sudden vibration against the glass coffee table shattered the peaceful silence.My cell phone illuminated with a new notification. Leaning forward, the leather of the sofa creaking softly beneath my weight, I picked up the device. The screen displayed a text message from an unsaved, blocked number. My heart kicked into a faster rhythm. The federal authorities had supposedly seized all of Merrick and Karla’s communication devices, yet this message bypassed every security filter Icelyn had insta

ANIKA’S POVThe drive back to the Sterling mansion passed in a thick, heavy silence. Rain continued to batter the tinted windows of the SUV, but the bitter cold of the New York storm could no longer reach me. Icelyn held me against his chest the entire way. He did not speak. He simply wrapped his coat around my shivering shoulders and let the steady rhythm of his heartbeat ground me.Back at the estate, the transition from the freezing street to the warm interior felt seamless. The household staff moved with quiet, practiced efficiency. Nobody asked questions. A maid stood waiting in the grand foyer with heated towels, her eyes cast downward in polite respect. Peter secured the front doors, locking out the chaotic world.Icelyn did not set me down. He carried me up the wide sweeping staircase, his boots making soft, rhythmic thuds against the plush carpet. My wet clothes clung to my skin, heavy and uncomfortable, but the sheer exhaustion in my bones made it impossible to care.Inside

AUTHOR’S POV"Karla! Karla, wake up!"Merrick dropped heavily to his knees on the hardwood floor, the rough fibers of the Persian rug scraping against his skin. His breath hitched in his throat, coming out in frantic, uneven gasps. Just seconds ago, the study had been a war zone of shattered glass and screamed insults. Now, a terrifying silence filled the room. Karla lay motionless near the edge of the heavy mahogany desk. Her eyes were closed, her face drained of all color, and her chest barely moved. The sheer emotional weight of their vicious argument, combined with the physical struggle, had pushed her body past its breaking point. She had simply collapsed."Please, open your eyes," Merrick begged, his voice cracking. He reached out with trembling hands and gently cupped her pale cheeks.Her skin felt cold. She did not stir.Panic, raw and blinding, clawed at his chest. Despite the toxic hatred they had just spewed at each other, despite the crushing revelation that he was a basta

AUTHOR’S POVThe digital glow of the cell phone screen cast a pale, sickly light across Merrick’s face in the dark living room. Sitting alone on the leather sofa, the silence of the rented Long Island mansion pressed against his eardrums. He scrolled through the text messages, his thumb swiping upward with a slow, agonizing dread. The evidence sat right there in his palm, undeniable and devastating.He went through the rest of the chat history spanning several years. Karla had been sending regular wire transfers to a private care facility in upstate New York. She received monthly updates, medical reports, and photographs of a blonde, green-eyed boy. The child was hers. The dates on the earliest messages confirmed the boy was at least five years old. She had kept a son hidden from him this whole time, locking a massive piece of her life behind a digital passcode while pretending to be his loyal partner.A dark, violent sickness twisted in his stomach. The urge to march upstairs and wra

ANIKAThe evening air in Manhattan carried a sharp winter chill, but wrapped in my heavy wool coat and walking close to Icelyn, the cold could not touch me. We had left the armored SUVs and the heavy security details parked a discrete block away. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, we were just a normal couple enjoying a Friday night in the city.Icelyn had planned the entire evening. He secured a private viewing at a contemporary art gallery in Chelsea, closing the venue to the public so we could wander through the exhibits without a single camera flash or whispered rumor following us. The quiet space felt sacred. We walked hand in hand, stopping to admire the sprawling canvas paintings and modern sculptures."What do you think of this one?" Icelyn asked. He paused in front of a massive abstract painting filled with deep blues and violent streaks of crimson. His dark suit caught the soft gallery lighting, making him look like a piece of art himself."It looks chaotic," I