Novel & Cerita El Contraataque Del Multimillonario Disfrazado

Chapter 25: The Red Flag Explosion The ballroom of the Grand Hyatt was a shimmering trap of crystal and lies. I moved through the crowd like a ghost in silk, my "Saint" mask firmly in place. To every donor and council member I greeted, I wasn't the girl who had just emptied Abram’s bank accounts. I was the tragic, beautiful captive they all felt guilty for ignoring.

She stormed into the building, phone in hand, reading the latest headline. Bruce caught up with her, his voice low. “This is spreading too fast. Someone wanted the fake story to blow up.” Amy turned sharply. “Which means Liam bit. He took the bait .” “ Yeah , and now he’s using it to turn the board against you.” They pushed into the executive suite, only to be met with a smug , too-familiar voice. “Well, well. If it isn ’t the runaway heiress .” Celine stood near the conference table, looking like she’d just stepped off a designer runway . Sleek black dress, blood-red lipstick , and eyes like daggers .

What she saw made her breath hitch. A man was pinned against a sleek black car, his expensive suit soaked and clinging to his muscular frame. Two masked figures surrounded him, one gripping his collar while the other pressed a gun into his ribs. Blood trickled from a cut on his temple, painting a stark contrast against his pale skin. Even in the dim light, Elena recognized him instantly. Adrian Blackwood—the billionaire whose name carried more power than the city itself—was fighting for his life. "We warned you, Blackwood," one of the attackers growled, tightening his grip. "Your money can’t save you tonight."

Natalia waited behind, pretending to pack her bags, from the corner of her eyes, she watched and waited for Romero to be done with those that greeted and had small talks with him. “Finally.” Natalia sighed as Romero was about to leave, Wilson and Fiona packing their documents and tablets, “Romero.” She called, he didn't turn to acknowledge her, instead he was already reaching for the door. Natalia rushed to the door and stood before him, blocking his way, only then did they all see the revealing dress that Natalia wore. A small smile pulled up her lips as she saw the billionaire's eyes drop to her feet and his eyes dragged up to her face. But her smile fell as she saw his expression, a disgu

Yeah the mask lady, i nodded my head. She look at my face, i know you somewhere Elle said. "Yeah, we met at the club yesterday." "Yes!!, so you were that guy." "Yes i said." "Okay, Dante when is your friend coming." "Um.... Lucas here is the friend i'm talking about." "Are you kidding me." "No! Elle, Lucas is the owner of the sperm. I mean your child father." "Unbelievable" she said. "I'm Lucas Dimitri, i stretch my hands to greet them."

How could he be disgusted of me using profanities in my speech when he did the most disgusting task any father would have never done in his life. So great of you Mr Williams! “you know me better”, I tell him smirking as I lean back on the couch comfortably. Releasing a sigh I look at him. “Why are you all dressed up and who’s coat you are wearing?”, he asks frowning clearly confused about the outfit am wearing today. No matter how badly I wanted to rub the truth on his face telling now am not Cassandra Williams and he don’t have a fucking right on me now but I kept quiet remembering Ivan's words.

This, he comes back in front of him and kicks him in the chest, throwing Arya's brother several meters back. Jeff falls with a thud to the ground. He writhes in pain, and Ayden enjoys it. He throws the weapon countless meters away from them and takes off his jacket, preparing to attack if necessary, but it doesn't happen. The rest of the bodyguards emerge from their hiding places and subdue Jeff. “Let go of me! This isn't fair!” he shouts angrily, trying to break free from their grip. “What are you trying to blackmail or rob your sister for again?” the millionaire asks snidely.

Her face turned into an experienced smile: "Mr. Milan, the clown is here." Ashley visibly raised her head... Why is Milan here? She thought they were just guys from the capital. Milano is still here. He did it on purpose. Deliberately wanted to see her humiliated, see her discriminated against, see her suffer. “Clown, come here, laugh.” On a recliner encrusted with black diamonds, sat a large child, wearing a black and white striped shirt, tight jeans, and a silver necklace around his neck, full of hip-hop style.

The video kept playing on the screen. “What do you know about Carlos?” they asked Jack again. “None of your business!” Jack’s voice snapped back, echoing through the speakers. But the outburst didn’t push them back. It did the opposite. The man with the bat stepped forward silently. With a quick, cold movement, he swung the bat—crack! and struck Jack’s leg brutally. The sound was loud and sickening, making me flinch in my seat. Jack let out a low cry, his body curling in pain, his face twisted in agony. His breath caught, then turned into a muffled groan, but his eyes stayed open, full of rage and pain he couldn’t hide.

Orlando stepped on the brake pedal. After getting down from the vehicle, Rome headed inside. When he walked into the kitchen, he stopped, and his lips curved into a smile as he stared at his father. "You are here," Mr. Miller mumbled, placing the bowl of hot noodles on the table. Then he frowned, staring at Rome for a while before asking, "Why are you dressed like that?" "Uh?" Rome absentmindedly mumbled. "The cap, mask, and glasses, why are you wearing them?"