Married to the Billionaire Who Betrayed Me novel Chapter 261

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Chapter 261-We Got Our Empire Back

The banks confirmed the override. The accounts are unlocked. The Johnston Group stock is trading again. Shares are skyrocketing. The market loves a survivor.

I lock the screen. I look at Tristan.

We won.

“This hearing is adjourned, the Chairman announces. He strikes the gave one final time.

I pack the printed documents back into the black leather briefcase. I snap the metal clasps shut. I pick it up.

Tristan places his hand on the small of my back. A familiar, grounding touch.

We turn away from the bench. We walk up the center aisle. The same path we took to enter. The press balcony goes wild. Reporters shout my name. They beg for a quote. They want a piece of the Chairman.

I ignore them. I look straight ahead. I owe them nothing.

We exit the heavy oak doors. We step into the marble corridor. The crowd of aides and lawyers parts for us. They press their bodies against the walls. They fear the edge we carry. They just watched us destroy the most feared prosecutor in the capital. We are untouchable.

We walk past the elevators. Tristan spots a heavy wooden door marked for maintenance staff. He grabs the brass knob. He pushes the door open. He pulls

me inside and kicks the door shut. He throws the deadbolt.

The small room smells of floor wax and bleach. Mops and buckets line the walls. It lacks glamour. It offers privacy.

Tristan drops his composed facade. The Johnston titan cracks. He crowds my space. He pins me against the cold cinderblock wall.

He frames my face with his large hands. His gray eyes burn with a dark, frantic heat. He checks my eyes. He runs his hands over my shoulders, down my

arms, checking for injuries. He needs tactile proof I survived the gunshot.

‘I am whole,” I whisper. I catch his wrists. “He missed.”

Tristan growls. His voice sounds like grinding stone.

I drop the briefcase on the floor. I wrap my arms around his neck. I pull his head down.

“You stepped in front of the bullet,’ I say. I kiss the corner of his mouth. ‘You shielded me.”

‘I will always shield you,” he swears.

He crashes his mouth against mine.

The kiss holds teeth and fire. A raw, bruising collision. The adrenaline from the chamber demands a release. We survived the execution. We hold the empire again. I open my lips. I taste the mint and the lingering fear on his tongue. I tangle my fingers in his thick dark hair. I pull him closer. I want to consume him.