What sort of assets does he have to grant him the capability to do such? Well, whatever he is, he must have his personal reasons, and I am not going to even try anything at all to digress deeper into the matter. I'm just going to allow it to die down. I relax against the wall a few meters away from me, gazing at the ceiling and allowing all these endless thoughts to move through my mind. I just wish all this can come to an end, and everything can become completely peaceful. The only thing I want right now is to ensure that Flora gets the freedom that she deserves so that she can go on about her life the way it should be. That Lucas, of a guy, is not someone I can just allow to continue to use her the way he wants.I suddenly remember that we have a lot of work to do in trying to organize all the concrete evidence, and I slowly begin to step away from my hiding place, but then Flora suddenly appears before me, making me gasp. I am taken aback by her sudden appearance. S
Later that night...I relax against the bed, admiring her beautiful face as she sleeps soundly.My expression is one of unending smiles as I watch her slumber, thinking to myself about how I got so lucky to have this beautiful masterpiece in my arms.She makes a funny sound and stirs as she tries to adjust herself, moving closer to me, and it makes me shift a little bit to grant her more space so I don't interrupt her beautiful sleep.I shake my head, and she suddenly wraps her arms tightly around me, pulling me closer to herself and making another slight funny sound, as if she doesn't want to let me go. It makes me smile as I shake my head and cuddle her slightly so as not to wake her up.I continue to watch her, rubbing her back slowly and then thinking about her situation as she snuggles closer and buries her face against my chest.*I am really tired of the situation surrounding her right now,* I think to myself. *I just wish everything can just go back to normal so that we can fin
It looks as though she had crashed it or something. She slowly turns her head to look at me with her eyes red and a strange sort of expression on her face.*What the living hell?* I think to myself as I also notice two extra empty bottles a few meters away from her. I slap my palm against my forehead, thinking deeply to myself.Has she been drinking? I wonder as I observe her, quickly moving over to her side as I glance at the broken bottle in front of her with its contents spilled all over the floor."Oh my goodness, Serena, do not make a move so that you don't injure yourself," I say, thinking of a way I can help her get out of this situation. But she raises her hand and points at me with a sort of strange look in her eyes."Don't you come close to me, do you understand? Don't you even think about it," she says, and I raise an eyebrow, observing her intensely."Why?" I ask, but she shakes her head quickly and chuckles with a strange sort of look in her eyes."Everything was going ve
"I have already told you I am completely fine. Why the hell is that just so fucking hard for you to accept?" she says, and I fold my arms with annoyance, looking at her with my temper slowly climbing."Because presently at the moment you don't look like someone who is in a right state of mind, and honestly, you really need to cool down right now and just at least calm down and explain to me what the living hell is going on with you. If you feel that everything is okay with you, then quit the stupid attitude you are portraying right now," I say and look at her as she looks at me for a short while, opening her mouth and closing it at intervals as if she doesn't know what else she is going to say.Then I give her a movement with my hand as if trying to make her say something, but she says nothing, and this makes me close my eyes, rubbing my hand slightly against my temples."So what's the deal now? What do you want to do?" I ask, and watch as she looks around and begins to scratch her fi
I smile at her and glance back at the room behind me before returning my focus back to her, scratching my neck nervously."Well, I don't think it's anything serious. It's not—it's nothing that can't be handled easily," I say and observe as she bites down against her bottom lip. I can tell that she totally does not believe what I just said, and it makes me close my eyes as I exhale slowly, smiling visibly."Okay, fine. You got me. I don't really know how to lie to you right now.""Then I'm listening," she replies, folding her arms attentively, and I direct my focus back to the kitchen."Well, I don't know. Selena has kind of been acting strange, so I was just trying to call her to order. I kind of even caught her in the kitchen getting herself drunk. So I don't know, I'm not actually still comfortable leaving her there, but now that you are here, you could at least go and talk to her," I say, and she raises an eyebrow, looking at me for a short while before exhaling deeply."Yeah, I wa
The moment I say that, the line becomes completely silent and dead, as if nobody had spoken, and it makes me bite down against my bottom lip as I wait patiently."Hello, sir?" I speak, trying to call his attention, and then I hear him clear his throat at the other end."I'm so sorry for the little break. I was actually talking with my secretary. I'm so sorry," he replies, and then exhales. "I would actually love to reply to that question, Mr. Lucas, believe me, I would really love to, but I just can't, okay? There are some things you don't know that have actually happened, and in some way, because of your presence in the entire situation, everything is kind of connected to me. So yeah, I have to do everything within my power to get involved."I bite down against my bottom lip and close my eyes, exhaling softly as I shake my head."Does it really have to be this mysterious? I promise if I mistakenly find out anything, I'm just going to—I'm going to do my best to keep it a secret," I re
I chuckle nervously and quickly shake my head, moving closer towards her as I make a move to assist her in holding Serena, but Serena quickly moves her hand away from my grip, giving me that hard glare that shows she's absolutely disbelieving of me or something.Flora, on the other hand, doesn't look quite pleased with me, and she observes me intensely. I smile."Hey, I'm not lying to you, okay? Like I said, it's just work and it's nothing important, okay? Nothing to talk about.""Really? Is that why you look extremely nervous the moment you notice I was here? And what the hell did you mean by 'how did you know what was going on'? Who knows about everything that is going on? Who was that?" she demands.I close my eyes and take a deep breath with the realization that she must have probably picked up a line or two from the conversation, and it makes my heart beat fast—like extremely fast.Okay, think fast Lucas. What the hell are you going to say now? Because that fellow made it pretty
Flora's eyes are locked onto mine, sharp and unyielding. I can feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating, pressing in on me like an invisible force. She isn't letting this go."Who was on the phone, Lucas?" she asks again, her voice edged with a razor-sharp frustration.Her gaze pins me in place, demanding an answer. Flora isn't someone who lets doubts fester quietly—she confronts them head-on, dissects them until there is nothing left to question. And right now, I am the puzzle she is trying to solve.I inhale slowly, keeping my expression as neutral as possible. The wrong move could shatter the fragile trust between us. The person I have spoken to wants his identity kept a secret, and as much as I hate deceiving Flora, I have no choice."It's nothing important," I say, forcing a casual tone that I hope masks the truth.Her lips press into a thin line. The shift in her posture tells me she isn't buying it. "If it's nothing, why won't you just tell me?"Her voice is quieter t
Author’s NoteAnd that brings us to the end of Part 1 of Tangled Truths: The Billionaire’s Secret Betrayal.But don’t relax just yet—the story isn’t over.The tension is only getting thicker, and the real game is about to begin.Part 2: Tangled Truths: The Billionaire’s Revenge is coming soon!Get ready for more twists, deeper betrayals, and emotions that will cut even sharper. Flora and Lucas’s journey is far from finished, and the battles ahead will test everything they thought they knew—about each other, and about themselves.If you’ve enjoyed the story so far, please take a moment to leave a quick review or comment.It truly helps support my writing and allows me to continue creating more intense, emotional journeys for you to enjoy.Also, if you can, I would love for you to leave a short comment letting me know what you think about my writing—or even about me as an author! Your feedback means more than you know and inspires me to keep going.Thank you from the bottom of my heart
The package arrives on a rainy Tuesday.No return address. No note. Just a small, meticulously wrapped box resting quietly on the mahogany desk inside Lucas Arden’s corner office—a sanctuary of power that overlooks the city he painstakingly rebuilt from the ruins of scandal and deception.Rain slides down the glass in thin, silver streaks. Thunder hums in the background. He stares at the package for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before reaching for the silver letter opener he hasn’t touched in weeks. He slices through the paper with slow precision, a subtle tightness in his jaw.Inside, nestled like a secret in a bed of crisp black tissue, is a book.A hardcover. Matte black jacket. White serif font.The Tangled TruthA NovelHe freezes.The title registers like a whisper in his bones. Familiar. Haunting.His gaze falls to the author’s name printed below the title in small, elegant script: F. H.His heartbeat falters.He sits down slowly, almost mechanically, and opens the
The fall is always louder than the rise.Damien Vance’s empire—once a towering monolith of luxury, influence, and power—crumbles in a blaze of disgrace. Headlines scream betrayal. His private jets are impounded. Offshore accounts frozen. International warrants flood in. The once-revered tycoon who dined with diplomats and kings now finds himself dragged through a gauntlet of indictments. The media flocks like vultures, circling his legacy as it burns."The Billionaire Who Built His Castle on Lies" blares across global news networks, each word another nail in the coffin of a reputation meticulously manufactured.Victoria Hale sits at the eye of the storm.No longer wrapped in designer gowns or commanding red carpets, she appears in court cuffed and sallow-faced. The courtroom buzzes like a hive, a theater of judgment packed with cameras and whispers. At the prosecution’s table, Serena sits tall in her tailored navy suit, eyes sharp and voice colder than the marble walls around her.She
The hospital room is quiet now—eerily so.Gone are the rhythmic beeps of machines warning of danger. Gone is the sterile rush of nurses and the chaotic hum of life and death decisions. What remains is a stillness that feels like it’s holding its breath. A moment stretched thin by memory.Lucas sits upright in the hospital bed, a bandage wrapping his ribs, the white cotton stark against his bruised, olive-toned skin. His breath catches every time he shifts, a sharp pull in his side reminding him that pain means survival. That he’s alive.Alive because she saved him.Yet she’s not here.It’s been three days since Damien was dragged into federal custody, cuffed and broken beneath the weight of his own lies. Three days since Richard was paraded before a sea of flashing cameras and stunned reporters. The truth spilled out like blood—raw, unstoppable. Flora’s plan had worked. Her chessboard cleared. But Lucas?He still listens for her voice in every quiet moment.There are no calls. No mess
The sound of sirens fades into the distance, no longer urgent, but lingering like the echo of a dying heartbeat. Red and blue lights strobe across the cracked marble floor of the Ashton estate, casting eerie shadows through broken windows. Officers drag Richard through the front entryway, his designer shirt torn, face bloodied, and wrists bound in steel.His eyes burn with betrayal. Hatred. But Flora stands firm.“Mark my words!” he shouts, twisting against his restraints. “You’ve made enemies you don’t even know exist!”Her expression doesn’t change. “Let them come,” she murmurs, her voice quiet but lethal. Her eyes follow him as he vanishes down the steps, swallowed by the flashing lights.As soon as the door swings shut behind him, she drops to her knees beside Lucas.His blood is all over her now, soaking her hands, smearing across her black pants. His shirt clings to his skin, dyed dark with crimson. His chest rises, shallow but steady. Barely.“Lucas, hey, stay with me,” she whi
The sirens scream louder now, flashing lights slicing through the gloom, painting the crumbling estate in hues of red and blue. It should feel like rescue. Like justice. But to Flora, it feels like a final warning.Because the true danger isn’t outside. It’s here, inside these decaying walls. Inside the men she once trusted. The danger pulses through the air like a second heartbeat.Damien moves first. A blur of fury and precision, he launches at Richard without hesitation. His fist connects with Richard’s jaw in a brutal crack, sending the man stumbling into an old sideboard. Wood splinters and glass explodes, littering the floor with jagged debris. Flora screams as the violence erupts inches from her, the sound swallowed by the crashing chaos.Richard recovers with frightening speed. From beneath his coat, he draws a knife—not sleek or tactical, but ugly and vicious, made for tearing flesh, not ending fights cleanly.“You should’ve stayed out of this!” he snarls.Damien’s laugh is a
The estate is old and forgotten—a crumbling remnant of wealth swallowed by creeping vines and heavy silence. Once opulent, it now stands like a ghost of itself, hollowed out by time and secrets. The kind of place where legacies go to die. The kind of place perfect for a reckoning.Flora stands in the grand, dusty main hall, dressed in black from head to toe. Her figure is still, almost statuesque, beneath the cracked chandelier that sways gently with the wind slipping through fractured windows. The air is cold, but her heartbeat is calm. Deliberate. Her eyes scan the space, sharp and unwavering.This place, she chose with care. Far from the noise of the city. Removed from surveillance. Forgotten by maps. It has blind spots, hidden corners, and dead zones—just like Damien prefers. But this time, it’s not his game. This time, she’s the one holding the pieces.Outside, gravel crunches beneath the weight of expensive tires.He’s here.Damien enters as if he owns the world. As if no ghost,
The news breaks like a thunderclap across the media landscape, exploding across every major outlet and social feed with merciless precision. Headlines blare from every screen, screaming in bold fonts and sensational tones: “Victoria Hale: Mistress of Money Laundering?” and “Damien Vance’s Queenpin Exposed.”Cafes, offices, lobbies, airports—every screen plays the same loops. Glitchy video clips, forensic screenshots, redacted emails bearing her unmistakable signature in looping, elegant scrawl. Secret wire transfers, altered invoices, encrypted files cracked wide open. Each detail surgically exposed. Each thread meticulously traced. The media feasts on it. The public, ravenous, consumes every scandalous bite.In the heart of the city, high above the noise, Victoria Hale watches it all unfold.She stands frozen in her penthouse suite, a glass of champagne trembling in her perfectly manicured hand. The television throws harsh light against her face, and for once, she doesn't glow in it.
The knock comes late—soft, hesitant, but deliberate. It cuts through the silence like a thread pulled tight, taut with tension.Flora freezes at the terminal, her fingers suspended just above the keyboard. Code flickers across the screen, each blinking character casting fragments of light across her face. Her heart jumps, not from surprise, but from recognition. She knows who it is before the door even creaks open.Lucas steps inside.His presence fills the room like the return of a forgotten melody—familiar, haunting, comforting, and utterly misplaced in this sterile war zone of a tech suite. The air shifts with him, bringing something warmer, something dangerous.Flora rises slowly, spine straightening, jaw clenched tight. “You shouldn’t be here.”His gaze roams the room—bare walls, humming machines, a paper cup with long-cold coffee—but it always circles back to her. “I had to see you.”He closes the door behind him with a gentle click, but the intensity in his expression is anythi