Betrayed By The Billionaire

218

Chloe Bishop stared at her bleeding arm, the crimson droplets staining the white lace of her sleeve. A bitter ache bloomed in her chest, but she quickly suppressed it with a practiced, hollow numbness.

What are you acting so hurt for? she mocked herself internally. In Xavier Grayson’s eyes, she was nothing more than a high-end nanny who doubled as a warm body in his bed. She had married into this gilded cage because the Bishop family needed his shadow to survive.

She had a premonition—a cold, clear certainty—that one day, this fragile arrangement would shatter, and they would go their separate ways. These emotional ripples were a luxury she couldn't afford. She had only two objectives now: play the part of the perfect wife to keep him satisfied, and grow strong enough so that when the day came to leave, she wouldn't fall apart.

Chloe pulled a few tissues from a box and wiped away the blood, ignoring the sting as she cleaned the jagged bite marks.

Outside the door, Liam Jr. scrambled down from Xavier’s arms. With frantic, tiny steps, he fetched the heavy medical kit from the hallway cabinet and scurried back into the nursery. Xavier watched the boy’s retreating back with a face carved from stone, offering no words of concern.

Xavier retreated to the master suite, his first instinct to pull up the security feed on his laptop. He rewound the footage to the moment Liam began to draw. He watched the boy’s intensity, but the angle was frustrating; Liam was clever, positioning the easel so that the back of the canvas faced the camera. Xavier knew his son was creating something, but the content remained a mystery.

Then, the footage showed the explosion. He watched Liam lose control, watched the boy's teeth sink into Chloe’s pale skin, and saw the brilliant red blood slide down her snowy arm. Xavier’s eyes narrowed into icy slits, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the desk.

A Somber Dinner

By the time Chloe emerged from the nursery with a bandaged wrist, she found Liam Jr. clinging to her hand, his little face a mask of guilt and sorrow. He kept huffing gentle breaths onto her bandage, his eyes welling with silent apologies.

Chloe ruffled his hair, offering a soft, reassuring smile. "It’s okay, Liam. It doesn't hurt. Let’s go eat, okay?"

As they sat at the dining table, Xavier appeared from the bedroom. His gaze flicked briefly to her bandaged wrist, but his expression remained as unreadable as a frozen lake. He took his seat and began to eat with a terrifying, silent elegance. Every movement was precise, aristocratic, and utterly devoid of warmth.

The atmosphere was suffocating. Chloe searched for something to say to break the tension, but the words died in her throat. Suddenly, her phone vibrated.

She glanced at Xavier, who was focused on his meal, looking every bit the "Demon CEO" whose beauty was as dangerous as it was captivating. She stood up and stepped out onto the balcony to take the call.

It was Madam Han. Before she and her husband left the city, she wanted to see Chloe one last time. They struck a deal: Chloe would pick them up early tomorrow morning and take them to the racing circuit. Both the Hans were fanatics for racing and shooting—the very hobbies that had allowed Chloe and Liam Martin to win them over in the past.

After hanging up, Chloe scrolled through her news feed. The "hospital scandal" had taken a massive, 180-degree turn.

Dr. Julian Lang’s dark history had been broadcast to the world. Video evidence of him harassing female patients was everywhere, and several nurses had come forward to testify against him. Under the crushing weight of public fury, the hospital had issued an official statement: Julian Lang was fired and blacklisted.

Lyra had sent a barrage of messages: “Chloe! Was this you? Did you pull the trigger?”

Chloe typed back: “Wasn't me.”

Lyra’s reply was instant: “If it wasn't you, it has to be your man! Wow, Mr. Grayson really knows how to pamper his wife. I wish my guy had half that spine—he hasn't even called me...”

Chloe looked through the glass doors at the man sitting at the table. Was it really him?

The Starless Night

Chloe stepped back inside and sat down beside Xavier. She watched his long, clean fingers as he handled his cutlery. "About this morning... thank you," she said softly.

Even if it was Vince who did the legwork, Vince only moved when Xavier gave the command. In her mind, Xavier was the true architect of her vindication.

Xavier didn't look up, nor did he speak.

"Dr. Lang’s secrets were leaked," Chloe continued, her eyes searching his face for a flicker of admission. "He’s a social pariah now. Everyone is calling for his head. Was it your doing?"

She waited, a small spark of hope ignited in her chest. She wanted it to be him. She wanted to believe that behind the ice, there was a man who wouldn't let his wife be insulted.

Xavier paused, his thin lips parting to deliver three cold words.

"It wasn't me."

The spark in Chloe’s eyes died instantly, the starlight fading into a dull, grey disappointment.

Of course, she thought, looking down at her plate. Why would the Demon bother with such petty revenge for a wife he barely tolerates?

If Xavier didn't ruin Julian Lang, then who did? Was it Donovan Tang, working from the shadows to protect his "little sister," or is Xavier lying to keep Chloe at a distance? As the night deepens, the mystery of Chloe's secret protector grows, and the "fragile peace" of the Grayson household feels like it's about to shatter.