Betrayed By The Billionaire

181

The bitterness in Xavier’s heart was a cold, jagged thing. He stared at the shredded remnants of the photograph, the smiling face of Anne Lan now nothing more than confetti in a trash bin. His mind spiraled back to his father—a powerful man who had been reduced to a shadow of himself by his obsession with this woman. Even behind prison bars, his father had clung to the marriage, refusing to sign the divorce papers.

Xavier couldn't fathom it. Why stay shackled to a woman who treated loyalty like a suggestion? Why protect a woman who used her beauty and her culinary skills as bait, only to abandon the kitchen and her family once the ring was on her finger? He had never tasted a single meal made by his mother’s hands. To him, a woman’s "care" was simply a calculated investment toward a future payoff.

When his phone buzzed with Chloe’s caller ID, his grip tightened. He answered with a voice clipped and frigid. "What is it?"

He expected a plea. He expected her to cry or beg for mercy from the heat he had sentenced her to.

On the other end of the line, Chloe swallowed her indignation. She had intended to confront him, to demand why the fan and the bench were gone, but the icy edge in his voice acted as a warning. She knew that to survive the Grayson household, she had to play the long game. She wouldn't use Liam Jr. as a shield; that was a line she refused to cross.

"What would you like for dinner tonight?" she asked instead, her voice remarkably steady.

Xavier closed his eyes, the image of his mother’s deceptive smiles flashing behind his lids. "It’s only four o’clock," he snapped. "Isn't it a bit early to be asking? Ask me again once the sun has actually gone down."

The implication was a physical blow: stay in the sun until the day is done. He ended the call before she could respond, leaving Chloe standing in the shimmering heat of the garden.

The Silent Protector

Butler White watched Chloe lower her phone, his brow furrowed in confusion. "What did the Master say, Young Mistress?"

Chloe merely shook her head, the movement causing a sharp, rhythmic throb behind her temples. The butler was baffled. He had witnessed Xavier staying up all night to tend to her fever—a level of personal care he had never seen the Master extend to anyone. Why was he being so ruthlessly cruel now?

"Never mind that," Chloe whispered, her voice strained. "It's too hot out here. Take Liam Jr. back inside."

She tried to hand the boy over, but the "Little Prince" was uncharacteristically stubborn. He wound his small arms around her neck with a strength that surprised her, his face flushed with a mixture of heat and sheer indignation. He shook his head violently at the butler, his dark eyes—so like his father's—burning with silent fury. He wouldn't leave her to suffer alone.

Chloe felt a lump in her throat. She was moved by the boy's loyalty, but she couldn't allow him to stay. The afternoon sun was a physical weight, and she could already feel the familiar, terrifying lightheadedness of a returning fever or heatstroke. If Xavier saw them together, he would undoubtedly accuse her of using his son to manipulate him.

"Alright, Liam Jr.," she coaxed, her voice soft and persuasive. "If you won't go in, will you help me with something? Look how beautiful the flowers are today. Why don't you paint a picture for me?"

The boy paused, looking at her intently before nodding slowly. Chloe caught Butler White's eye and gestured toward the deep shade of the ancient oak trees.

Minutes later, an easel and a set of brushes were arranged in the cool, shaded sanctuary of the trees. Chloe led Liam Jr. to the spot, ensuring he was protected from the glare. Then, with a deep breath to steady her swaying vision, she walked back out into the center of the lawn.

She stood amidst the vibrant blooms, the sun beating down on her unprotected shoulders. She forced a bright, encouraging smile for the boy watching her from the shadows. "I'm ready, Liam Jr.! You can start now!"

As she stood there, the world began to tilt. The colors of the flowers bled together into a kaleidoscopic blur. Her head felt as though it were being squeezed in a vice, and the heat seemed to pulse in time with her racing heart. She wasn't sure if it was the lingering infection or the onset of sunstroke, but the ground beneath her feet felt increasingly like shifting sand.

The Internal Standoff

Inside the air-conditioned silence of his office, Xavier watched the monitor. He saw the boy in the shade and Chloe in the sun. He saw the "First Socialite" of the city standing like a martyr in a flower bed just to keep his son comfortable.

Xavier is testing Chloe's endurance, but he is also witnessing a devotion to his son that his own mother never possessed. As Chloe's vision flickers and the shadows grow longer, the power struggle between husband and wife is reaching a dangerous physical limit. Will Xavier break his own rule and call her in before she collapses, or will his deep-seated resentment of "deceptive women" lead to a tragedy in his own backyard?

Do you think Liam Jr. will realize Chloe is unwell and try to drag her into the shade himself?