Married to the Billionaire Who Betrayed Me novel Chapter 242

Chapter 242 A Kiss Before We Part

Vanessa raised the sleek smartphone to her ear. She drew a breath to speak.

Tristan moved.

He crossed the polished marble floor. He closed the distance in two strides. He grabbed Vanessa’s wrist. He squeezed. Bone cracked. Vanessa whimpered. Her fingers opened. The phone dropped. Tristan caught the device before it hit the floor. He shoved it into his tuxedo pocket.

‘Not a sound, Tristan whispered. His tone promised death.

Vanessa trembled. Her eyes darted between us. The color drained from her face. She recognized the Johnston titan. She recognized the man who dismantled

her life years ago.

I stepped close to her. I kept my expression blank. I offered zero mercy.

“You sold my photos for a paycheck, Vanessa,” I said. My voice held the cold edge of a blade. “You ruined my life once. You do not get a second try.”

I reached into her diamond-encrusted clutch. My fingers brushed the cold metal of a thick gold coin. The VIP access token. I pulled it out. I held it in my palm:

Tristan grabbed Vanessa by the elbow. He guided her toward a heavy oak door near the coat check. A linen closet. He opened the door and pushed her inside in one fluid motion.

“Scream, and I return,” Tristan vowed.

He shut the door. He turned the brass lock. A click echoed in the hallway. We neutralized the threat. We acquired the token.

‘We move,” Tristan commanded.

We walked toward the grand staircase. Two massive guards in dark suits blocked the steps. A thick velvet rope stretched between them. They crossed their

arms. They watched us approach.

I held up the gold coin. The metal caught the light of the crystal chandeliers.

The guard on the right inspected the token. He unhooked the velvet rope. He stepped aside.

We climbed the carpeted stairs. We left the main ballroom behind. The noise of the crowd faded. The air grew heavy. We entered the VIP lounge on the second floor.

The lounge smelled of cigar smoke and aged whiskey. Heavy velvet curtains blocked the windows. Men in tailored suits sat on leather sofas. They conducted business in the shadows. They traded secrets. They traded lives.

“You are mine, Tristan whispered. His breath hit my cheek.

“I am yours,” I answered.

He crushed his mouth against mine. The kiss held teeth and fire. He possessed me. He marked his territory. His tongue swept my mouth, a demanding, relentless invasion. I opened to him. I tangled my hands in his thick hair. I pulled his head down. I needed the heat. I needed the connection before I walked

into the lion’s den.

He lifted my leg. He wrapped it around his hip. The high slit of my black silk dress fell open. His rough hand found my bare thigh. He pushed higher. He pressed his fingers against my silk underwear.

I gasped into his mouth. My hands gripped his broad shoulders. I arched into his touch.

He rubbed his thumb over my center. A sharp spike of pleasure shot through my veins. The danger amplified the need. The federal hunt, the gala, the armed guards- everything faded. He commanded my body. He commanded my pulse.

“Five minutes, Tristan breathed against my lips. His chest heaved. He withdrew his hand. He lowered my leg to the floor. ‘Keep him occupied. Then get out.”

“Five minutes, I agreed.

I smoothed the silk of my dress. I steadied my breathing. I walked back into the VIP lounge.