Betrayed By The Billionaire

235

The neon lights of the Blue Velvet Lounge pulsed in rhythmic waves of sapphire and violet. Chloe Bishop felt the liquid fire of the whiskey burning down her throat, a welcome distraction from the cold, suffocating cage of the Grayson Estate.

If I don't go back, I don't go back, she thought, her eyes flashing with a rebellious glint. To hell with Xavier Grayson. To hell with his rules and his icy ultimatums. Tonight, the only thing that matters is the bottom of this glass.

Since they had arrived early, the bar was relatively quiet, but the elite atmosphere was already setting in. Sarah Vance was sitting across from her, a silent, tragic figure. She didn't speak; she simply drained one glass after another, her eyes hollow. Chloe didn't try to stop her. In this world of high-society betrayals, sometimes silence and alcohol were the only honest companions left.

Donovan Tang and Julian Vance sat flanking them like twin pillars of granite. Their presence ensured a perimeter of absolute safety, their sharp eyes scanning the room even as they nursed their own drinks. Neither of them moved to stop the women. They knew the weight of the day’s trauma was too heavy to carry sober.

The Center of the Storm

As the hour grew later, the lounge began to fill with Haicheng’s night owls. It wasn't long before whispers began to ripple through the crowd.

"Look, isn't that the 'First Socialite,' Chloe Bishop?"

"It is! And that's Sarah Vance beside her. Wait, is that Julian Vance? Why is he out drinking with his sister-in-law after that scandal at the factory?"

"And look at the man next to Chloe... is that Donovan Tang? The 'Iron Commander'? My god, he’s even more handsome in person than in the news."

"Forget the rumors, just look at them. Chloe and Sarah... even tipsy, their beauty is breathtaking. No wonder the men in this city go crazy for them."

Chloe and her group remained oblivious, or perhaps they simply didn't care. They were the suns around which this social galaxy revolved, and tonight, they were burning out.

The DJ took the stage, the beat dropping into a heavy, electronic pulse that turned the lounge into a sea of moving bodies. The atmosphere turned electric.

"Chloe, Sarah! Let’s dance!" Lyra shouted over the music, grabbing their hands and pulling them toward the crowded dance floor.

Donovan and Julian stood up instantly. In a place like this, beautiful, semi-inebriated women were targets. They followed closely, intending to form a protective wall around them.

The Ghost of the Past

In a dark corner, Liam Martin watched the scene unfold. He saw the way Donovan looked at Chloe—with a suppressed, aching tenderness—and his jaw tightened. He stood up, moving through the crowd.

Suddenly, a group of women—likely coordinated by Liam’s subtle influence—swarmed the dance floor, effectively swirling around Donovan and Julian, separating them from the girls for a split second in the chaos of the strobe lights.

Chloe felt a sudden, firm tug on her arm. Her head spun from the alcohol and the flashing lights. When her vision finally cleared, she found herself pressed against a hard chest, wrapped in a familiar scent.

She looked up and froze. Liam Martin was staring down at her, his handsome face looking like a portrait of refined sorrow.

"What... what are you doing here?" Chloe stammered, her voice thick.

Liam’s grip on her waist tightened, his touch possessive yet gentle. "I’m here because you are here, Chloe."

He leaned down, burying his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the scent of her hair—the same fragrance that had haunted his dreams every night since he left her at the altar. It was a scent he couldn't forget, a scent that tasted like the life he had thrown away.

Chloe felt a surge of ancient, jagged pain. She shoved him back with all her remaining strength. "Stay away from me! We have nothing to do with each other anymore!"

"Chloe..." Liam whispered her name, his voice thick with a regret so raw it was almost tangible.

Chloe’s eyes burned with unshed tears, her defiance flickering. She turned her face away, her voice trembling but cold. "Mr. Martin, I am a married woman. I am no longer that naive girl who spent every waking moment orbiting around you. Please, have some dignity and stay away from me."

Liam felt as if a knife had been twisted in his heart. Hearing the words "married woman" from her lips was a more brutal "face-slapping" than any physical blow.

The Shadow at the Door

What neither of them realized was that the "pig" Chloe had hung up on was no longer on the other end of a phone line.

Outside the Blue Velvet Lounge, a fleet of black Rolls-Royces pulled to a synchronized stop. Xavier Grayson stepped out, his tailored black overcoat billowing in the night wind. His face was a mask of absolute, glacial fury.

He didn't need to check his GPS. He could feel the tether between him and his wife stretching to the breaking point. He stepped into the club, the security guards parting like the Red Sea at the mere sight of his expression.

Xavier has arrived, and he is about to witness his wife in the arms of the man who broke her heart. The "Demon CEO" isn't here to join the dance; he’s here to burn the ballroom down.

Should Chloe try to run when she sees Xavier, or stand her ground and use Liam to spite her cold husband?