Married to the Billionaire Who Betrayed Me novel Chapter 167

Chapter 167 The Killer Was His Friend

“Why didn’t you live with us in the old house?” Elias asked. The innocence in his tone made the question cut deeper than a knife. Marcus said you are my

dad. Dads live in the same house

Tristan swallowed hard. His jaw tightened. He could have lied. He could have spun a story about work, or travel, or building a company for him. Adults

accepted those lies all the time.

“I made a mistake,” Tristan said. He did not break eye contact with the boy. “A long time ago, I thought staying away from you and your mom would keep

you safe. I was wrong. I was scared, and I made a bad choice. Dads are not supposed to leave.”

Elias thought about this. He picked at a loose thread on his sock.

“Okay,” Elias said.

Tristan blinked, stunned. “Okay?”

“You made a mistake, Elias repeated, stating it like a simple fact. He picked the plastic dragon up from the floor and pushed it into Tristan’s hand. You can be the good guy now. We can both be knights.”

Children do not need grand gestures. They do not need press conferences or signed contracts to rebuild trust. They just need you to show up and tell the

truth.

A single tear spilled over Tristan’s lower lash line. It tracked down his cheek. He wiped it away fast with his right hand, clearing his throat. He took the

dragon.

“Thank you, Tristan whispered.

I turned back to my computer screen. My vision swam. The pain in my chest was blinding. I wanted to hold onto the rage. The rage kept me warm in Port Sterling. The rage built Aegis, But watching my son forgive the man who broke us, watching the pure grace of a child erase years of adult complications,

made the anger feel like poison.

The next few days fell into a strange, quiet rhythm.

Tristan came over every afternoon. He did not push me. He did not ask to stay for dinner less Elias demanded it He was a ghost haunting his own life,

trying to earn the right to exist in it again.

On Thursday, the sun finally broke through the clouds.

ľ

Elias was running across the living room, chasing a small motorized car. Tristan stood near the kitchen counter, drinking a glass of water. I was organizing

files on the dining table.

Elias took a sharp turn near the hallway. His foot caught the edge of the thick floor runner.

He pitched forward. His hands slapped the hardwood, but his knee took the brunt of the fall, dragging against the floorboards with a nasty squeak

A sharp, terrified wail erupted from his lungs.

Tristan dropped his glass. It shattered against the tile.

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Chapter 167 The Killer Was His Friend

He sprinted across the room, falling to his knees beside Elias. Panic stretched across Tristan’s face. He looked at the scraped knee A small line of bright red

blood welled up from the skin.

“Mina Tristan yelled. His voice show He is bleeding. Call a doctor. Call Diego. We need to get him to a clinic.

I stood up, but I did not run. I walked over to the hallway closet.

“Tristan,” I said calmly. “It is a scrape.

“He is bleeding!” Tristan repeated, his hands hovering over Elias, terrified to touch him and cause more pain. The man who negotiated multi-billion dollar mergers was entirely paralyzed by a skinned knee. He had never done this. He had missed the falls, the bumps, and the fevers.

I grabbed the small first-aid kit and walked back to them. I set it on the floor next to Tristan.

“Fix it,” I told him.

Tristan looked at the plastic box, then at me. “Me?”

“You are his father,” I said. I stepped back. “Fix it.”

Tristan swallowed. His hands trembled as he opened the kit. He pulled out an antiseptic wipe. He looked at Elias, who was crying big, wet tears.

“This is going to sting, Tristan warned him. His voice was incredibly gentle. ‘Just for a second. Hold my shirt.”

Elias grabbed the fabric of Tristan’s collar with his small fists. Tristan wiped the scrape clean. Elias cried louder, burying his face in Tristan’s shoulder.

Tristan did not pull away. He wrapped his good arm around the boy’s back, pressing a kiss into Elias’s hair. He peeled the backing off a bandage and placed

it over the cut.

“There, Tristan murmured. “All done. The bad part is over.”

Elias kept his face hidden in Tristan’s neck. He let out a few shaky breaths. His crying slowed to a quiet sniffle. He did not reach for me. He held onto Tristan, anchoring himself to the man who had cleaned his wound.

Tristan closed his eyes. He buried his face in his son’s shoulder. He held the boy like he was drowning and Elias was the only solid ground left in the world.

I watched them. The gap between them was gone. The billionaire was dead, replaced entirely by a father sitting on a hardwood floor

I turned away and walked into my office.

The apartment was quiet. I sat at my desk and pulled open the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet I took out the thick manila envelope Valentina had left

on the console table days ago. The police report regarding Benedict Holloway’s death.

I broke the seal. I pulled the papers out.

The top page held a series of crime scene photos. The transport van sitting on the dirt road. The broken locks

I flipped to the second page. A copy of the security footage from a gas station near the highway. It showed a black SUV intercepting the van

A man stepped out of the SUV. The camera angle was blurry, but the posture was unmistakable

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am

Chapter 167 The Killer Was His Friend

1 send the-name-printed on the federal agent’s preliminary-identification report.

The air left my lungs. The paper slipped from my fingers, fluttering to the floor.

Benedict’s killer was not a rival board member. He was not a random enemy.

The man who stopped the van was Alexander Redford. Tristan’s closest ally.

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Married to the-Billionaire Who Betrayed Me