Betrayed By The Billionaire

241

"You’re so loud! Get out! Get out, all of you!"

Chloe Bishop suddenly snapped, her eyes flashing with a sharp, imperious glare as she pointed toward the door. The household staff froze. In that moment, her expression, her tone, even the oppressive weight of her aura, was a perfect, terrifying mirror of Xavier Grayson.

When the maids and Vince hesitated, Chloe didn't waste words. She snatched a crystal glass from the side table and hurled it at their feet. Smash! Shards of glass sprayed across the marble. "I said, GET OUT!"

Vince jumped, his heart nearly leaping out of his chest. He stole a glance at Xavier—who was currently being pinned to the sofa by his wife—and saw the dark storm brewing in the President's eyes. He quickly signaled to the maids, and the three of them beat a hasty retreat, closing the heavy double doors behind them.

The room fell into a sudden, heavy silence, leaving only Chloe straddled across Xavier's lap.

As quickly as the fury had come, it vanished. Chloe softened, leaning forward to bury her face in Xavier’s neck, nuzzling him like a sleepy puppy. "You have to be a good boy," she murmured into his skin, her voice thick with drink. "Don't make me angry, okay?"

She shifted, finding a comfortable spot against his chest, and closed her eyes again, oblivious to the fact that she was cuddling a ticking time bomb.

Xavier sat there, his entire body rigid. The scent of expensive whiskey and cigarette smoke from the lounge clung to her hair, wafting into his senses. His handsome face was so dark it looked as though it had been dipped in ink.

The Awakening

Splash!

A basin of ice-cold water plummeted directly onto Chloe’s head. The shock ripped a piercing scream from her throat, and the fog of alcohol shattered instantly.

She gasped for air, shivering violently as she realized she was sitting in the master suite's oversized marble bathtub. Xavier stood over her, his silhouette looming large and cold against the steam-less air. He was still holding the empty silver basin, his eyes devoid of any warmth.

Chloe sat up, water dripping from her hair and soaked clothes, looking like a drowned, pathetic bird. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and brimming with a sudden, heartbroken vulnerability.

"Are you awake now?" Xavier asked, his voice a flat, merciless rasp.

Chloe wiped the water from her eyes, her lower lip trembling. She nodded slowly, her voice small and filled with a strange, drunken remorse. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have snuck the alcohol. I should have saved some for you. I’m so selfish."

Two fat, genuine tears of "regret" rolled down her cheeks, mixing with the tap water.

Xavier: "..."

He stared at her, realized he was dealing with a complete and utter drunk.

"Xavier, don't be mad. I'll be good," Chloe whispered, reaching out with a trembling hand to tug at the hem of his trousers. She looked up at him with red, swollen eyes. "Please don't kick me out. I’m scared to go home. If you throw me away, I... I don't have anywhere else to go."

Xavier ruthlessly brushed her hand away. "If you’re so afraid of being thrown out, why haven't you been behaving yourself?"

Chloe slumped against the edge of the tub, her wet lashes fluttering. "I have been behaving! I've been so good. It’s you... you’re the one always looking for trouble. You hate me, but that isn't my fault."

Her voice rose, fueled by the lingering gin in her system. "You even left me alone at the hospital when I had a high fever! Is that something a human being does? You’re my husband... do you have any idea how much that hurt me?"

Xavier’s hand shot out, his fingers vice-like as he gripped her chin and forced her to look at him. he let out a cold, sharp laugh. "So you do remember I'm your husband?"

"Of course! I always knew," Chloe countered, her gaze a hazy mix of seventy percent intoxication and thirty percent clarity. "But do you ever think of me as your wife?"

The Temptation of the Siren

Xavier stared into her eyes, searching for a sign that she was faking this "drunkenness" to escape his wrath. Without a word, his hand moved to the damp fabric of her blouse, his fingers hooking into the collar.

Chloe blinked at him, her breath hitching. "What... what are you doing?"

"Fulfilling our marital obligations, naturally," Xavier murmured, his voice dropping into a low, predatory register.

He was testing her. Every time they were intimate, Chloe’s body became as rigid and unresponsive as a salted fish. Her eyes would be filled with a transparent terror and a silent, desperate resistance that always left him feeling more hollow—and more furious—than before.

But the result of the test was unexpected.

The Chloe in the bathtub didn't pull away. The alcohol had stripped away the "First Socialite" mask, leaving behind a woman who didn't know how to hide. Instead of a "salted fish," Xavier found himself staring at a captivating, wet-haired enchantress. Her eyes softened, her body leaning into his touch with an effortless, subconscious allure that was more dangerous than any resistance she had ever offered.

The cold water cleared her head, but the proximity to the "Demon CEO" is starting to cloud it again. Chloe is no longer a shivering victim; she has become a siren in the dark. As Xavier’s hand lingers on the damp silk of her clothes, the line between "punishment" and "desire" is beginning to blur.

Will Chloe’s "new personality" finally break through Xavier’s icy exterior, or will the memory of the photos with Donovan Tang turn this night into a cold, clinical retribution?