Married to the Billionaire Who Betrayed Me novel Chapter 254

Chapter 254 Setting A Trap For Him

The tires of the ghost jet hit the cracked asphalt of the abandoned runway. The aircraft shudders. The engines scream as the pilot reverses the thrust. We come to a halt in the dark.

I unclasp my seatbelt. The long flight across the ocean drains the energy from my bones. The adrenaline from the European heist fades, leaving a cold, heavy exhaustion. But I cannot sleep. I cannot rest. The war enters the final phase.

Tristan grabs the canvas duffel bags. He slings the straps over his broad shoulder. We walk down the metal stairs into the freezing night air of the capital.

A rusted garage sits at the edge of the airstrip. Ricardo waits by the open bay doors. He holds a tablet in his hands. The glow of the screen illuminates the dark circles under his eyes. He stayed awake for two days, draining the offshore accounts of the corrupt elite. He destroyed a political machine from a folding chair.

We walk into the garage. The space smells of motor oil and dust.

The accounts remain at zero,” Ricardo reports. He sets the tablet on a metal workbench. “Sterling’s backers are panicking. Senators accuse federal judges of theft. The judges blame the SEC directors. They turn on each other.”

A pack of starving dogs, Tristan states. He drops the duffel bags on the concrete floor. “They will tear Sterling apart.”

*Sterling needs a target to unite them,” I say. I stand beside the workbench. I open the encrypted laptop. “He needs a scapegoat to explain the missing millions. He needs me.”

“We give him a target,” Tristan agrees.

I type my old Chairman access code into the terminal. I open a backdoor portal to a Johnston Group server located in the downtown financial district. Sterling’s cyber division monitors this specific server. They hunt for any digital footprint tied to my name.

‘Drop the breadcrumb,” I command.

Ricardo connects a cable from the laptop to his untraceable network. He hits the execution key.

A single, deliberate ping registers on the global grid. A digital flare shot into the night sky. We forge a location tag. We tell the federal government I sit in an empty office building in the center of the city, desperate to access hidden corporate funts.

“The bait is live,” Ricardo confirms. “Sterling’s agents caught the signal. They dispatch tactical teams to the financial district. They think you returned to the

capital.

‘I did return,’ I say. “But I do not hide.”

Sterling will send his teams to breach empty rooms. He will waste hours searching shadows. The frustration will break his calculated restraint. He will make

a mistake.

He tears the dark sweater over my head. The cool air hits my bare skin. He kisses my neck. His teeth scrape my collarbone. A sharp bite. A claim of

ownership in the dark. I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders. I pull him closer.

He unfastens his jeans. He shoves my denim down my hips. Skin meets skin. The friction sends a jolt of pure fire through my veins.

He lifts my legs. I wrap them around his waist. He enters me with a hard, deep thrust.

I throw my head back. I bite my lip to muffle a scream. I taste copper. He fills the cold void. He anchors me to the earth.

We do not speak. Words fail to capture the intensity. He sets a punishing pace. He drives the ghosts from my mind. He replaces the shadows with burning heat. The small room fades. The federal hunt disappears. He claims every inch of my body.

I dig my nails into his back. I chase the edge. The coil in my stomach tightens. The tension climbs to a breaking point. A blinding wave crashes over me. I

shatter. A quiet gasp escapes my throat. My body trembles in his arms.

He shudders a heartbeat later. A rough groan vibrates deep in his chest. He finishes. He buries his face in my hair. His chest heaves against mine.