Betrayed By The Billionaire

7

Liam looked away, his jaw tightening. "Your parents will never agree," he said, his voice flat but thick with a hidden ache. "I'm a cripple."

To a teenage boy, a physical flaw was a lethal wound to his pride.

"So what?" Chloe’s response was immediate—firm and stubborn. "Liam, tonight, if it isn't you, I'm not choosing anyone."

A ripple finally broke the surface of Liam's calm eyes.

So what?

Did she not realize that the moment she walked toward him, every gaze in the room had shifted from admiration to pity—or worse, mockery? If she stayed with him, she might be trapped under those judgmental eyes for the rest of her life.

Chloe looked at the boy she had adored from afar for so long and bravely reached out her small, fair hand. "Are you willing?"

The face before him was breathtakingly beautiful, her dark eyes sparkling like polished gemstones. She was perfect. But she wasn't the girl he wanted.

The girl he loved was named Sara Jay. She was the one he had vowed to protect with his life. They were childhood sweethearts, inseparable until the nightmare began. Seven years ago, during that horrific crash, Sara had thrown herself in front of him, taking the brunt of the impact so he could survive while his parents died instantly.

Now, Sara was a prisoner of his uncle, Marcus Martin—a pawn used to keep Liam in line. He was a bird in a cage, forced to sing whenever Marcus pulled the strings.

To break free, he needed the Bishop family’s power. And being the fiancé of the city’s most influential heiress would provide the perfect armor.

Liam stared at the delicate hand offered to him for a long beat. Then, he reached out and wrapped her small, soft fingers in his palm.

Her hand was so tiny. So warm.

At that moment, Chloe erupted into a smile—sweet, clean, and filled with a shy, youthful joy. It was a smile that would haunt Liam’s memories for the rest of his life.

At sixteen, Chloe didn't understand that a beautiful face could hide a dark heart. To her, the boy standing there was an angel. She didn't know that the "angel" was a calculation, and the "demon" she had met earlier—Xavier Grayson—might not have been the monster she feared.

Years later, Chloe would look back on this night and wonder: If I had chosen the demon instead of the angel, would my life have been different?

But a single choice had already woven their fates into a web of love and hate.

After that gala, Liam became a fixture at the Bishop estate. Charles and his wife never looked down on him for his disability; instead, they treated him like the son they never had. Charles was a brilliant, forward-thinking businessman and a patient mentor. Liam was a natural—sharp, intuitive, and quick to learn.

By eighteen, Liam was more composed and mature than any of his peers. He was patient, hardworking, and treated Chloe with a level of devotion that bordered on worship. Two years into their relationship, he earned the Bishops' full blessing. They threw a lavish engagement party for him and the newly eighteen-year-old Chloe.

For Chloe, life was a dream. She was no longer forced to study business subjects she hated. Instead, she spent her free time with a sketchbook, drawing the world, but mostly drawing Liam.

But Liam had a side she didn't expect: he was obsessed with extreme sports.

It was as if he was desperate to prove to the world—and himself—that he was a "normal" man. Anything a healthy man could do, he would do better. Anything they feared, he would conquer.

So, Chloe jumped into the madness with him. Skydiving, bungee jumping, deep-sea diving, surfing, horseback riding, sharpshooting, skiing, street racing—they did it all. Chloe used to joke that while her academic grades weren't great, she had mastered "eighteen levels of martial arts" just by keeping up with him.

They had their rebellious phases, too. But Liam was always the one who cleaned up the mess, ensuring Chloe never faced a single consequence. She admired him deeply for that.

Before she knew him, she thought he was a "perfect" boy, untouched by the world's grime. After knowing him, she realized her "perfect boy" had a dark, rebellious streak. He was no saint, but every part of him fascinated her.

At twenty-one, Liam suddenly "settled down" and entered the Martin Group. By twenty-four, he had spent three years systematically dismantling the old family grudges and successfully seizing the CEO's chair.

Chloe had finally reached the legal age to marry. And so, the wedding was set.

The memories flickered through her mind all night like a movie. When the beautiful nightmare finally ended and she woke up, her pillow was soaked through with tears.

The news of Liam Martin jilting the city’s top "IT Girl" spread like wildfire. Within a week, the scandal had evolved into a dozen different versions, making Chloe the ultimate laughingstock of every high-society brunch and dinner party.

Chloe stayed at the hospital, pouring all her energy into caring for her parents and her newborn sister. She ignored the whispers and the headlines.

In that entire week, Liam didn't call. He didn't text. He had effectively cut the Bishops out of his life.

Charles remained in a deep coma, and Chloe began to notice her mother was becoming increasingly unstable. One evening, just as Chloe finished showering, a piercing scream echoed from the hallway.

She sprinted out to find her mother collapsed on the floor, trembling.

"Mom! What happened?" Chloe rushed to help her up, but her mother grabbed her arm with a death grip.

"Chloe... Lily... they took Lily! Go get her back, hurry!"

Lily was Chloe’s one-week-old sister.

"Someone took the baby?" Chloe’s blood ran cold. Who would be bold enough to snatch a child from a hospital in broad daylight?

She didn't have time to process it. She turned to run, but her mother yanked her back. "Charles... go check on your father! Quick!"

Chloe spun around just in time to see a man in a baseball cap rushing out of her father's room, his head ducked low.

"Who are you?!" Chloe screamed. "Stop!"

The man bolted for the stairs. Chloe started to give chase, but her mother’s frantic voice stopped her. "Forget him! Check on your father!"

Chloe lunged into the room. Her father’s oxygen mask had been ripped off. His face was starting to turn a terrifying shade of blue.

She fumbled with the mask, forcing it back onto his face, and slammed the emergency call button. Luckily, they had caught it in time. He was stable, but the message was clear: someone was hunting the Bishop family.

Chloe looked at her mother. From the way she had reacted, it was obvious she knew more than she was letting on.

Under Chloe's relentless questioning, the truth finally spilled out.

It was Arthur Bishop, Charles’s cousin and the company’s second-largest shareholder. Three days ago, after learning Charles might never wake up, Arthur had moved to seize the CEO position. He was also pressuring Mrs. Bishop to sign over their personal shares at a fraction of their value.

It was a hostile takeover. He was bullying a widow and an orphan while the head of the house lay broken.

"Today was just a warning," her mother sobbed, her voice breaking. "If he doesn't get what he wants, your father won't be so lucky next time. And your sister..."

She couldn't finish the sentence, dissolved into a fit of hysterical weeping.