Married to the Billionaire Who Betrayed Me novel Chapter 231

Chapter 231 A Call From The Enemy

The guards shoved Julian into the metal chair. They chained his wrists to the table. They left the room.

Julian picked up the black telephone receiver His hands shook. The chains rattled against the metal.

I picked up my receiver.

“You look terrible, Julian,” I stated. I kept my voice flat.

Julian leaned forward. A dark, twisted smile cracked his bruised lip. Blood seeped from the wound. He did not look like a defeated man. He looked like a victor.

“You look like a fugitive, Minerva, Julian rasped. The cheap speaker distorted his voice. “I saw the news. The great Chairman. Stripped of her billions.

Running in the dirt.”

“You framed me,” I said. “You altered the digital ledger.”

“I laid a feast, Julian corrected. He laughed. The sound turned into a wet cough. “I knew you lacked the restraint to ignore the bait. You wanted to execute me in front of the board. You wanted the public applause. You handed the federal government the exact weapon they needed to hang you.”

*Sterling signed the RICO warrant,” I pressed. I steered the conversation to the target. “He froze the Johnston accounts. He operates under your command.”

Julian shook his head. The arrogance radiated from his battered frame.

1

‘Sterling operates for no one, Julian sneered. “He is the machine. You spent years fighting corporate rivals. You played in a sandbox. Thomas Whitmore understood real power. He did not buy companies. He bought the law.”

The truth settled in my bones. The final ghost revealed his face.

“Thomas bought Sterling,” I confirmed.

“A decade ago,” Julian gloated. He pressed his bruised face closer to the glass. “Thomas funded Sterling’s rise through the Department of Justice. He funpeled millions into offshore accounts. Sterling protected the Whitmore empire from federal scrutiny. When you locked Thomas in this prison, Sterling lost his primary benefactor. He lost his revenue stream.

“Sterling wants the Johnston billions,” I realized. The puzzle pieces snapped together. The RICO injunction was a heist A foder robbery executed in plain sight.

‘Sterling wants his compensation, Julian agreed. I offered him a deal. I take the fall in public. I accept the handcuffs. In exchange, Sterling uses his authority to seize your assets. He crushes your husband. He leaves you with nothing.”

“You sacrificed your own freedom to hurt me,” I said. The sheer, venomous spite of the Whitmore bloodline amazed me. He chose a cage just to watch me bleed.

“I won,” Julian whispered. His good eye burned with maniacal triumph. “You sit across from me. You own nothing. Your corporate shields ate ash. Sterling

will hunt you until you die. He will take your son.”

I did not scream. I did not strike the glass. The mother bear did not rage. She calculated. She identified the kill shot.

Chopies kept-records,’ I stated. My voice dropped to a lethal cadence Thomas never trusted anyone. If he paid Sterling for a decade, he kept a ledger. A

master list of the bribes.”

Julian stopped smiling. A flicker of dubt crossed his face.

I pressed the green icon. I brought the phone to my ear. I did not speak. I listened to the dead air.

‘Minerva Hayes,” a voice said.

The voice did not belong to my husband. It lacked the rough gravel of the Johnston titan. It sounded calm. It sounded precise. It sounded like the man on the television broadcast.

Federal Prosecutor Sterling.

“You wore a convincing disguise at the security checkpoint, Sterling noted. The chilling authority in his tone seized the oxygen in my lungs. The paralegal credentials bypassed the standard scanners. But my office flagged Julian’s visitation logs an hour ago. We monitor his guests.”

My chest tight with panic. I scanned the parking lot. Black federal SUVS idled near the main gate. The trap remained active.

“You froze my accounts,” I said. I refused to let my voice shake. I projected the steel of the Chairman. ‘You stole my company.”

‘I seized criminal assets, Sterling corrected. The arrogance bled through the phone. “You made a tactical error, Minerva. You visited the supermax. You walked into my jurisdiction.

“Come and get me,’ I challenged.

“Look at the main gate,” Sterling commanded.

I turned my head. Two black SUVS blocked the exit of the visitor parking lot. Armed agents stepped out of the vehicles. They unholstered their weapons. They scanned the rows of parked cars. They hunted the ghost

“You have two minutes before they locate your vehicle,’ Sterling whispered. The threat felt like a blade against my throat. “Run.”

The line clicked dead.