All Chapters of Dumped the Scumbag, Now I'm Married to a Billionaire: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

Marcus POVI sat alone in the suite in my office. It had become my own bedroom, as I spent most of my time here. The silence was almost suffocating. It felt too quiet, almost as if the entire world had paused around me.My fingers drummed nervously against the edge of my bed. My mind kept returning to the nightclub, to the moment I saw Taylor.Her eyes had locked onto mine, cold, calculating, as if she knew everything about me in an instant. I always thought she was audacious to walk up to me, but I didn’t give it much thought.And the men she was hanging around with... they didn’t just look dangerous; they were dangerous men. Most of them were linked with the mafia.I leaned back in the chair, rubbing my hand over my face. The tension in my chest was unbearable. This wasn’t just about a woman with a silly crush on my brother. This was bigger. This was darker. And, most importantly, it involved my little brother, Asher.Normally, I’d take my time to strategize, to think things through

Don povI leaned back in my chair, swirling the whiskey in my glass as I listened to the man across from me finalize the details. The cigar smoke in my office hung thick, curling into the dim light above us.“We move the shipment next week,” he said, his tone confident but cautious. “Colombian grade, through the usual ports. Our distributors in Miami are ready, and we’ve secured a clean route.”I nodded, but didn’t speak yet. Business was more than just logistics, it was about control. Anticipation. Knowing when to push forward and when to pull back.“And the Feds?” I finally asked.“Taken care of.” He smirked, adjusting the gold cufflink on his sleeve. “A few key figures got their incentives.”Good. The last thing I needed was unnecessary heat. This deal would expand my reach, increase my influence. But the bigger the deal, the bigger the risk.I took a slow sip of whiskey, letting the burn settle in my throat before setting the glass down. “We move forward. My men will oversee the t

Ivy’s POVThe room was dim, the air thick with a musty scent that clung to the damp walls. My wrists ached from the tight restraints, the rope digging into my skin, leaving behind raw, irritated flesh.My legs were stiff, my muscles screaming from hours, maybe days, of captivity. I had lost track of time in this miserable excuse for a prison.Then, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed down the hallway, steady and deliberate. My breath hitched. I knew who it was before she even stepped into the room.Taylor.She waltzed in, her expression smug, her eyes gleaming with amusement as she took in the sight of me, bound and helpless. She leaned against the doorframe, tilting her head.“Well, well,” she drawled. “You look like hell.”I said nothing.She clicked her tongue, disappointed by my silence. “Oh, come on, don’t tell me you’ve given up already.” She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Asher isn’t coming for you, sweetheart. He’s already mine.”Still, I refused to sp

Janine’s POVThe phone was cold against my ear, my grip so tight my knuckles ached.“I need you to meet me immediately,” I said, my voice sharp. “Bring as many men as you can.”There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. Then a gruff voice responded, “How many are we talking?”“All of them.”The words left my mouth without hesitation. I didn’t care what it cost. I didn’t care what lines I had to cross.My brothers were walking straight into hell, and I wasn’t about to sit back and pray they came out alive.They left without thinking it through.Marcus was smart, but sometimes even he let emotions cloud his judgment. Asher? He wasn’t thinking at all. He was too desperate, too reckless.I knew they weren’t ready for what they were stepping into, but they didn’t wait. They just went.And I wasn’t going to let them die because of it.The black SUVs I hired rolled up minutes later, their engines roaring loudly. One by one, the mercenaries stepped out, each of them armed to the te

Asher’s POVIt had been three weeks, and Marcus was still in a coma.Three weeks of sitting by his bedside, hoping for a sign, any sign, that he was coming back to us.I had spent most of my time at the hospital, sometimes with Ivy or Janine, but mostly alone.The doctors gave the same updates every day, their words rehearsed, their voices carefully measured: No change. Stable but unresponsive. We just have to wait.Wait.Like that was something I could do.I didn’t know how to exist outside of this hospital room anymore. My world had shrunk to this space, to the steady hum of machines, the sterile scent of antiseptic, and the unbearable sight of my brother lying still in that bed. But today, I had no choice but to leave.I was about to step out of the house when my father’s voice stopped me.“Asher,” he said, his tone softer than usual. “We need to talk.”I turned to face him. He looked exhausted, more worn down than I had ever seen him.The dark circles under his eyes, the way his s