Married to the Billionaire Who Betrayed Me novel Chapter 110

Chapter 110 Tearing Up Her Fake Crown

“You are ruining him, Celeste whispered. Her eyes filled with angry tears. He is losing his mind. He smashed a crystal decanter against the wall of his office last night. He screams at his staff. He sits in the dark reading reports from dirty public clinics. He is a ghost, Minerva. You turned him into a madman.”

“I did nothing, I corrected her. ‘He turned himself into a madman the day he chose a contract over a living, breathing woman. The

guilt is finally demanding payment.”

“He will never claim you,” Celeste fired back, desperate to retain some illusion of power. “The invitations are at the printers. The

media is locked. Harriet will drag him to the altar herself if she must. He will marry me. You will never hold the Johnston name.

I let out a short laugh.

“I do not want the Johnston name,” I told her. “I built my own.”

I looked at the trembling heiress. She stole a charity proposal from working-class women to build her public image. She leaked a

story to brand my innocent child as a dirty secret. She operated entirely on cruelty and entitlement.

And now, she stood in front of me, terrified that her entire life was a fragile lie.

“You pushed the wedding date because you know he is slipping through your fingers,” I said. I dissected her reality with surgical precision. “You woke up today, read the headlines you bought, and realized they changed nothing. He still ignores your calls. He still

hunts for my son. You wear his ring, but I own his mind.”

Celeste let out a choked sob. She pressed a hand over her mouth. She hated me, but she hated the truth more.

“Take the money,” Celeste begged. “Please. Just disappear. Let me have him.”

I looked at the fifty million dollar check. It represented more wealth than I could have imagined three years ago,

I placed my hands on either edge of the paper.

I tore the check in half.

I placed the torn pieces on the glass desk.

“I am not leaving,” I declared. “I am going to stay right here in the capital. I am going to run my empire. And I am going to watch your fake marriage crumble into dust.”

Celeste stared at the torn paper. Her last desperate strategy failed. She realized she lacked the leverage to move me. She lacked the power to control Tristan. She was a passenger in a crashing car.

Diego pointed to a massive string of numbers on the screen.

Thomas Whitmore did not just issue a standard corporate loan to save the Johnston Group thirty years ago, Diego explained. ‘He structured a predatory equity trap. The Johnston family avoided bankruptcy, but Thomas wrote a specific clause into the repayment contract.

“Show me,’ I demanded.

Diego clicked a specific file. A digitized legal document appeared.

“The debt is tied directly to the bloodline, Diego read the dense legal text. “The principal loan, plus thirty years of compounded interest, becomes payable immediately upon demand if the Johnston heir fails to secure a permanent marital alliance with the Whitmore heir.

The words hit me like a physical strike to the chest.

“A permanent alliance, I repeated. The air in the room felt thin.

“A marriage, Diego confirmed. He looked at me, understanding the massive implications of the discovery. “Tristan is not marrying Celeste for social status. He is not marrying her to merge two companies. He is a hostage.”

I stared at the screen. The pieces of the puzzle slammed together, forming a brutal, unforgiving picture.

“If Tristan breaks the engagement, Diego concluded, “Thomas Whitmore has the legal right to call in the debt. He will liquidate the Johnston Group. He will seize their assets. He will bankrupt his own future son-in-law.”