Married to the Billionaire Who Betrayed Me novel Chapter 104

Chapter 104 The Timeline Does Not Fit

Celeste did not write a single word of her massive, million-dollar initiative. She received the grant proposal from the cooperative, rejected their funding request, and stole their entire operational model. She plagiarized the work of the exact working-class women she claimed to champion.

“She is hosting the launch event at the Grand Atrium tomorrow night, Diego mentioned. “The press pool will be massive. Every major investor in the city plans to attend.”

“Secure an invitation,” I commanded.

“The guest list is locked,” Chloe warned. “The Whitmore security team will deny you entry at the door.”

“I own Ashcroft Holdings,” I reminded my assistant. “Richard Ashcroft is a platinum sponsor of her foundation. Transfer his VIP access credentials to my name. If they try to stop me at the door, I will pull Ashcroft’s funding from her charity on live television.”

Chloe nodded, her fingers flying across her digital tablet.

Evening fell. The office emptied. The glow of the city lights illuminated the dark corners of the room.

I sat alone at my desk. I pulled up the gossip article on my laptop. I forced myself to read the text again. I needed to memorize the

enemy’s tactics.

The author painted a vicious picture.

Sources close to the Johnston family confirm Minerva Hayes vanished from the capital in December, nursing a broken heart after her

rejection. Unable to secure her place among the elite, she retreated to the slums of Port Sterling. The timeline suggests she sought comfort

in the arms of a local laborer almost immediately. The child, estimated to be a year old, serves as a living reminder of her unstable

behavior following the breakup.

I stared at the glowing words.

Celeste intended the specific dates to shame me. She wanted society to think I was a reckless woman who threw herself at a

stranger weeks after losing Tristan. She included the month I left. She included the estimated age of the child.

My breath caught in my throat. I read the sentence again.

She vanished in December. The child is estimated to be a year old.

Celeste was terrible at math. She blinded herself with hatred. She did not stop to calculate the biological reality of those two facts.

If I vanished in December, and Elias was born the following autumn, the conception date landed squarely in the final weeks of

November.

The exact weeks I still lived in the penthouse with Tristan.

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Chapter 104 The Timeline Does Not Fit

I picked up the paper and threw it in the trash bin.

“Diego, I called out.

Print the grant proposals, I instructed. Bring the original digital files. We are going to a charity launch.

The Grand Atrium was a towering structure of glass and steel located in the center of the financial district. Camera crews crowded the entrance, fighting for space. Wealthy donors in expensive evening wear filed inside, eager to be seen.

I walked up the front steps. Diego flanked my right side. Two private guards blocked the main doors. They held digital guest lists an

small screens.

“Name, the first guard demanded. He recognized my face. His hand drifted toward his radio.

I handed him a thick silver card. “Richard Ashcroft. Platinum sponsor.

The guard scanned the barcode. The machine flashed green. As the new owner of Ashcroft Holdings, the VIP credentials belonged to me. The guard swallowed hard. He stepped aside.

I walked into the ballroom.

Crystal chandeliers cast a brilliant light over hundreds of guests. Waiters carried silver trays filled with champagne At the far end of the room, a massive stage sat elevated above the crowd.

Celeste Whitmore stood behind a clear podium.

She wore a stunning silver gown. She smiled at the flashing cameras. She looked like the perfect, generous heiress.

Women in the industrial sectors need our help,” Celeste spoke into the microphone. Her voice echoed through the massive space. “They need resources. They need vision. That is why I created the Empowerment from the Ground Up initiative.”

The crowd clapped. Javier Mendoza sat in the front row. He clapped along with the other major tech and banking sponsors.

I kept walking. I moved straight down the center aisle.

Diego split away from me. He moved toward the audio-visual control table near the side wall.

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Celeste saw me. She stopped speaking. Her smile froze. The microphone picked up her sharp intake of breath.

I reached the front of the stage. I did not wait for an invitation. I walked up the short flight of stairs.

“Security, Celeste hissed. She backed away from the podium.

Before the guards could react, the massive digital screen behind Celeste flickered. Diego plugged his drive into the main console.

A scanned document filled the huge screen. It bore the logo of the Port Sterling Textile Cooperative.

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Chapter 104 The Timeline Does Not Fit

I stepped up to the clear podium. I grabbed the microphone

“Celeste Whitmore claims she created this initiative, I announced. “She claims she spent months developing a model to help

working class women. Look at the screen.

The attendees looked up. The sponsors in the front row squinted at the text.

“That is a grant proposal, I explained. It was submitted to the Whitmore Foundation six months ago by a small group of female

factory workers. They designed the community funding model. They wrote the mission statement. They begged for a fraction of the

budget you see here tonight.”

I turned my head and looked directly at Celeste. She looked terrified. The silver gown suddenly seemed too big for her thin fram

“You rejected their application,” I stated. “You denied them funding. Then, you copied their proposal word for word. You stole the

intellectual property, slapped your family crest on the cover, and invited billionaires to applaud your genius.

The ballroom erupted. Reporters shouted questions. They recorded the screen. They recorded Celeste’s panicked, pale face.

Celeste gripped the edge of the stage curtains. “She is lying! This is a smear campaign! She is a bitter, ruined woman!”

I have the email timestamps,” I countered. “I have the digital signatures from the cooperative founders. I sent the entire packet to

every media outlet in this room three minutes ago.”

I looked down at the sponsors. I locked eyes with Javier Mendoza.

You are funding a thief,” I told the major donors. “You are handing your capital to a woman who steals from the exact demographic she claims to protect. If you keep your names on this foundation, you endorse plagiarism.”

Javier Mendoza stood up. He buttoned his suit jacket. He did not look at Celeste. He turned around and walked down the center

aisle, heading for the exit.

Two tech CEOs followed him.

Celeste sank to her knees on the stage. She covered her face with her hands. She leaked a story to humiliate me. I destroyed her

entire public foundation in response.

I dropped the microphone on the podium. It landed with a harsh thump.

I walked off the stage. I walked out of the Grand Atrium, leaving the ruined heiress to the flashing cameras.

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Married to the Billionaire Who Betrayed Me