Betrayed By The Billionaire

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Chloe yielded. If this was the absolute submission he demanded, she would play the part. She would beg, because the alternative—the collapse of the Bishop legacy—was a price she couldn't let her father pay.

"He left with the young master," Butler White said, shaking his head slowly. "I don't have their location. You might try calling him."

Chloe pulled out her phone, her fingers trembling. The result was predictable: the call didn't even ring. He had blacklisted her number. Chloe’s face went from flushed to a deathly, brittle white.

In the end, the iron gates of the Grayson estate clicked shut, leaving Chloe standing on the curb with her lonely suitcases.

The sun had dipped below the horizon, and the streetlights flickered on, casting long, mournful shadows across the pavement. The glow didn't offer warmth; it only highlighted how isolated she was. She looked at the stretching road, a sense of profound lostness washing over her.

She wanted to go home—to the safety of her father’s house. But she knew that if she retreated now, she would never have the strength to come back.

Steeling herself, she opened her phone and bypassed the usual social circles. She messaged a specific contact in her network: "I need Xavier Grayson’s exact location. Now."

At that moment, Xavier was at Dr. Aris’s private clinic. Aris was Xavier’s closest friend and a world-renowned specialist in child psychology.

After a series of interactive tests and observations, Aris looked at Xavier with genuine shock. "I'm stunned, Xavier. He’s actually willing to communicate through writing and gadgets now? And his English proficiency for a four-year-old is... frankly, intimidating."

"He’s a Grayson," Xavier replied, his cold features remaining unmoved. "Is he ready for school?"

Aris leaned back, considering. "Let’s observe him a while longer. We need him to be able to regulate his emotional spikes completely. Ideally, he should start vocalizing before we put him in a standard preschool environment."

Aris knew the cruelty of children; if the other kids labeled Liam Jr. a "freak" or "mute," the psychological setback could be permanent. Xavier nodded silently, understanding the risk.

"Liam is stable right now," Aris continued, tapping his pen. "Your new wife clearly has a knack for reaching him. Give me her number. I want to coordinate a plan to get him to actually speak."

Xavier’s eyes shifted to the window, his voice flat. "Find another way."

Aris blinked. "Why? What happened?"

"She has too much of a temper," Xavier answered nonchalantly. "I threw her out."

Not just a temper, Xavier thought bitterly. She has a heart full of another man. It had been years since anyone dared to challenge his authority or show him "attitude," yet she managed to provoke him daily.

Aris stared at him, speechless. You've been married for a few days and you've already evicted her? Who exactly is the one with the 'temper' here?

Just then, Liam Jr. walked out from the inner playroom where he had been drawing. He walked up to Xavier and tugged on the hem of his trousers. Xavier looked down to see the boy patting his stomach, his small, porcelain face fixed in a stoic, expressionless mask.

The contrast was jarring. Around Chloe, the boy was soft, expressive, and endearingly "cute." Around his father, he was a miniature version of the "Demon CEO" himself.

"Our little Liam is hungry!" Aris chirped, reaching down to scoop the boy up. "Uncle Aris will take you to get some dinner."

To Aris's surprise, Liam Jr. didn't let himself be touched. He swiped his small hand down, delivering a sharp smack to the back of Aris’s hand. His large, dark eyes flared with a sudden, protective anger.

He didn't want Aris. He didn't even seem to want Xavier. He pointed emphatically at the door, his chest heaving with a silent, growing frustration. He was looking for the person who had spent the entire afternoon taking notes by his side—the person Xavier had just erased from their lives.

Xavier watched the boy’s brewing tantrum, his jaw tightening. He realized that by throwing Chloe out, he hadn't just punished her; he had declared war on his son’s only source of comfort.