บททั้งหมดของ Betrayed By My Husband, I Married His Billionaire Uncle: บทที่ 41 - บทที่ 50

ANIKAThe next afternoon brought a much-needed change of scenery. Bright sunlight poured through the arched windows of the Pierre Hotel’s grand ballroom, illuminating a sea of tailored suits and elegant dresses. A high-end charity luncheon for women in business was exactly the distraction my racing mind required. After the crushing reality of Merrick’s corporate strike the night before, escaping the Sterling headquarters felt like breathing fresh air for the first time in days.Crystal glasses clinked together over the soft hum of a live jazz trio. Waiters in crisp white uniforms navigated the crowded floor, balancing silver trays of champagne and delicate hors d'oeuvres.Jasmine stood beside me near a tall cocktail table, radiant in a sharp emerald-green pantsuit. She held a flute of champagne, her dark eyes sparkling with genuine amusement as she finished telling a story about her time in law school."So, the professor tells me my closing argument lacks emotional resonance," Jasmine

ANIKAFor the past forty-eight hours, the penthouse had become less of a home and more of a high-stakes military bunker.Stacks of legal files, printed bank ledgers, and empty coffee cups littered the large glass dining table and the tablets there displayed fluctuating stock charts and encrypted emails. During those days, Jasmine Vance lived in our living room. At the moment she was wearing loose silk trousers and an unbuttoned blazer, her dark hair tied up in a messy knot secured by a silver pen. She typed furiously on her laptop, drafting the final federal kill-shot that would put Merrick behind bars for wire fraud. She worked with a terrifying, relentless efficiency. Every few hours, she fired off emails to the FBI cybercrimes division, coordinating the exact moment the authorities would storm the Sterling corporate offices.The impending destruction of my ex-husband should have brought me peace. Knowing Merrick was hours away from wearing handcuffs should have felt like a big, bi

ANIKA"I know it is a nightmare, Anika," Jasmine sighed, rubbing her temples in frustration. "But if you expose Merrick now, you will be interfering with an active federal investigation. The Department of Justice will throw you in a concrete cell right next to him."She was telling me to stand in the middle of a burning building and smile while the flames consumed my flesh. I had to let the media tear my reputation apart. I had to let the board question my sanity, all while holding the exact weapon that could save me, simply because the government demanded it."I have to go to the office," I stated, my voice turning hollow and detached. The tears dried up, replaced by a cold, desperate survival instinct.Closing the laptop, I walked past Icelyn without looking at his face. I could feel his stormy gaze burning into my back, but I refused to acknowledge him. He could not fix this with his money or his threats. I was entirely alone in this fight, forced to face the firing squad while the

ICELYNThe subterranean server room of Vance’s private security firm sat forty feet below the Manhattan pavement. Thick concrete walls blocked out the noise of the city, leaving only the relentless, droning hum of high-powered computer fans. The air conditioning blasted at freezing temperatures to keep the towering mainframes from overheating, making the dark room feel like a meat locker.It was the perfect environment for a hunt.Vance sat hunched over a bank of six glowing monitors. Empty energy drink cans and scattered flash drives littered his steel desk. The tech billionaire had stripped off his suit jacket hours ago, his black dress shirt wrinkled from the frantic effort of tearing through our compromised network. His fingers battered the mechanical keyboard with a blinding, rhythmic speed.Standing behind his chair, my arms were crossed tightly over my chest. A dark, lethal rage burned a hole straight through my ribs, demanding physical violence. I watched the lines of dense f

ANIKATen o'clock came and went without a single word spoken inside the penthouse.You lost today. You lost.Beyond the thick, floor-to-ceiling glass walls of the living room, the city raged in a chaotic storm of flashing emergency lights, blaring taxi horns, and relentless media coverage. Down on the wet pavement, the financial news networks were likely still running my ruined face across their scrolling ticker tapes. Inside these walls, however, the silence felt heavy enough to crush bone.Standing near the edge of the dark, sprawling balcony, I watched the storm clouds roll over the East River. Holding a cheap glass of red wine I had found tucked in the back of the kitchen cabinet—ignoring the vintage bottles resting in the cellar—I took a slow, bitter sip. The alcohol burned a harsh trail down my throat, doing nothing to numb the rising panic in my chest.My silk blouse offered zero protection against the harsh night wind. Goosebumps prickled my bare arms. Shivering, I wrapped my