Betrayed By The Billionaire

61

“I missed you so much too, Joy.”

Chloe’s voice softened as she bent down, lifting the little girl effortlessly into her arms. She pressed a gentle kiss against Joy’s porcelain-smooth cheek, lingering for a moment as if trying to make up for lost time. The child giggled, her laughter light and pure, instantly brightening the atmosphere around them.

Joy had inherited more of Nora’s delicate features than Nicholas’s sharp ones. Her big, sparkling eyes and soft rosy lips made her look like a doll come to life. Even at such a young age, she was already blossoming into a truly beautiful child, destined to turn heads wherever she went.

Nora leaned against the nearby table, crossing her arms with a teasing smile. “The moment she heard you were coming, she wouldn’t stop buzzing in my ear,” she said, feigning annoyance. “Honestly, it made me quite jealous as her mother.”

At once, Joy twisted her little body out of Chloe’s arms and threw herself into Nora’s embrace. Wrapping her tiny arms around her mother’s neck, she planted a loud, exaggerated kiss on Nora’s cheek.

In her sweet, milky voice, she declared proudly, “Joy likes Auntie, but she loves Mommy more!”

Nora couldn’t hold back her laughter, shaking her head helplessly. “You little smooth-talker. Where did you learn that from?”

Chloe chuckled softly, watching the interaction with warmth in her eyes. “She’s just like you,” she teased.

Across the room, Liam Martin stood silently, his gaze fixed on Chloe as though drawn by an invisible thread. Ever since she had stepped out of the restroom, she hadn’t once looked in his direction. It was as if he didn’t exist at all.

A bitter thought crept into his mind. She must hate me to her very core.

He studied her carefully, noticing details others might overlook. She seemed thinner than just a week ago; her collarbones were more defined, casting faint shadows against her skin. The V-neck floral maxi dress she wore flowed elegantly around her figure, and her long hair, tied loosely into a side braid, rested gently over her shoulder. It exposed the graceful curve of her neck—pale, slender, and impossibly elegant.

To Liam, she resembled a white swan—beautiful, distant, and untouchable.

“Zackary,” a man’s voice suddenly cut through the low hum of conversation nearby. “Who is that?”

The man pointed subtly in Chloe’s direction, his eyes sharp with interest.

Zackary followed his gaze, glancing at Chloe before replying casually, “That’s Chloe Bishop—the ‘First Socialite’ of River City. Why? Interested, Caleb?”

Caleb’s lips curled into a faint smile, but his eyes gleamed with something far less innocent. His gaze lingered on Chloe, unblinking, almost predatory.

“I want her,” he said bluntly.

Zackary didn’t respond immediately. Instead, a cold, amused smirk appeared on his face. Caleb had only just arrived in River City; clearly, he had no idea what kind of storm he was inviting into his life.

Zackary’s eyes flicked briefly toward Liam, his amusement deepening. Even without bringing Xavier Grayson into the picture, someone like Caleb was no match for Liam Martin.

Unbeknownst to them, Liam had heard everything.

His expression darkened almost imperceptibly as his gaze shifted toward Caleb. The man looked to be in his early thirties, his appearance average at best, yet his eyes were locked onto Chloe with unsettling intensity.

Liam had seen men like him before.

To them, Chloe was like a rare, noble peony—something to be admired, desired, and ultimately plucked. And they? They were nothing more than flies, drawn to beauty with the intent to spoil it.

Caleb’s words—I want her—echoed in Liam’s mind, igniting a sudden surge of icy possessiveness in his chest.

“Liam, this drink is so good!”

Sara’s voice broke through his thoughts as she tugged lightly at his arm. He turned to look at her, momentarily startled.

Her cheeks were flushed a deep shade of red, and her eyes had turned misty and unfocused. The usually composed woman now wore a bright, almost dreamy smile that carried a hint of intoxicated charm.

Liam’s cold expression softened instantly.

He gently took the glass from her hand, his voice lowering with quiet concern. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk!” Sara protested, her words slightly slurred as she clung to his arm. “You’re my Liam… and this is fruit wine—it’s sweet and delicious.”

She giggled, shaking his arm playfully. “Just one more sip. Please? Just one?”

Liam let out a soft chuckle, pulling her closer into his embrace. He tapped her nose lightly, his tone indulgent and warm. “Be good. No more, or you’ll wake up with a headache tomorrow.”

Sara pouted, clearly unsatisfied. Then, as if struck by a sudden idea, she pointed at her lips.

“Then kiss me.”

Her bold request hung in the air, drawing immediate attention from those nearby. A ripple of surprise spread across the room as people turned to watch.

But Liam didn’t hesitate.

As though no one else existed, he lowered his head and pressed a firm, unmistakable kiss against her lips.

The room fell into stunned silence.