Betrayed By The Billionaire

32

When Chloe stepped into the room, she was paralyzed by the sheer c*****e.

Every piece of furniture that could be overturned was flipped. Anything that could be smashed lay in a million jagged pieces. Quilts, bedsheets, and designer clothes were strewn across the floor like a landfill.

Beyond that, the room was a mosaic of destruction: shredded book pages, pulverized plastic toys, and glass shards. A heavy wooden stool lay cracked and twisted in a corner.

Most shocking of all, every single leather surface—from the headboard to the accent chairs—had been gouged with deep, jagged holes. The pristine white walls were pockmarked with dents, and the expensive mahogany desk and wardrobe were crisscrossed with deep scratches.

If she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, Chloe would never have believed that the shy, doll-like "little puppy" she met yesterday possessed such terrifying destructive power. This wasn't a tantrum; it was a disaster zone.

Xavier isn't raising a son, she realized, a chill running down her spine. He's raising a pint-sized wrecking ball. Even the most legendary "house-destroying" Huskies couldn't hold a candle to the chaos Liam Jr. had unleashed.

She finally understood why Xavier had looked so murderous. Chloe stole a tentative glance at him.

Xavier’s face was an iron mask of fury. The temperature in the room seemed to plummet as a bone-chilling aura radiated from him. One by one, the maids and servants slipped out of the room in synchronized silence.

Within seconds, it was just her and Xavier.

Chloe’s inner voice screamed: The staff here are remarkably well-trained at running away! Why did they leave me here alone?!

"Get out," Xavier’s voice barked, sharp as a whip.

Chloe jumped, her heart hammering. She looked around, but there was no sign of the boy.

She followed Xavier’s line of sight to the tightly shut wardrobe. Is the little guy hiding in there because he knows he's in trouble?

There wasn't a sound from inside the cabinet.

Xavier’s dark eyes narrowed. His gaze landed on a Samoyed cowering in the corner. With a swift movement, his long fingers clamped around the dog’s neck, hoisting it up as it began to yelp and bark in terror.

Chloe realized then that she wasn't entirely alone in facing Xavier’s wrath—the servants had kindly left her the dog as a comrade in misery.

Poor Samoyed. Xavier was holding it by the scruff exactly the way he had choked Chloe earlier. Her own neck felt a sympathetic throb of phantom pain. The dog’s whines were heart-wrenching.

Still, the wardrobe remained silent.

"If you don't come out," Xavier warned, his voice a low, lethal vibration, "I’ll choke the life out of it."

Finally, a muffled, enraged roar erupted from the wardrobe.

Chloe’s heart sank. She realized now that Liam Jr. wasn't just a "difficult" child. He was unstable, unable to regulate his emotions, and prone to violent outbursts. This kind of behavior usually stemmed from deep-seated trauma—psychological scars that had never healed.

"I’m counting to three. If you aren't out—"

"Xavier, stop. Let me try."

Seeing the father and son locked in this toxic standoff, Chloe couldn't stay silent. If Xavier’s "methods" actually worked, she wouldn't be standing here in the Grayson mansion tonight.

Xavier shot a glance at Chloe. Without a second's hesitation, he dropped the Samoyed and stepped back, ceding the floor to her.

Chloe froze. That was fast. He didn't even argue.

Had he been waiting for her to step up? Or did he simply know his threats were useless and was more than happy to dump the "problem" in her lap?

Either way, she knew this was more than a request. It was a test of her value.