All Chapters of Bound to the Ruthless Billionaire: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Larry's POVI lay there on the sterile white bed, my arm throbbing from the stitches the doctor had just finished applying. The pain was nothing compared to the growing tension in the room. Marissa was beside me, her fiery gaze still locked on the door where the doctor had just exited. I could feel the heat of her anger radiating off her like a furnace. She was muttering curses under her breath, fuming about the person who had dared to lay a hand on her husband.I let out a deep breath, trying to remain calm. I knew I had to. I couldn’t afford to make her angrier, not now. She was already so close to snapping. Her temper was something I’d learned to fear. And right now, I had to navigate this minefield carefully—because I was the one who had planted the bomb.As soon as the door clicked shut behind the doctor, Marissa turned to me, her eyes blazing. "What happened, Larry?" she demanded, her voice sharp. "Tell me everything. I want the truth."I swallowed hard. My throat felt dry. I kn

Claire’s POV (Present Day)I sat in my car, my head resting on the steering wheel, feeling as if the weight of the world was pressing down on me. I was too exhausted to move, too tired to even think about going inside my house. The night had drained me—emotionally, physically. My limbs felt heavy, and my mind was a jumbled mess of confusion, fear, and exhaustion. I stared out through the windshield, trying to focus, but everything felt surreal. It all felt like a dream, like I was floating, detached from everything around me.And then, without warning, the flashback hit me, pulling me back to six months ago. I remembered the night Larry had insisted we go to a club. I wasn’t the club type. I never had been. The noise, the crowds—it wasn’t my scene. But he’d begged me, and for some reason, I gave in. Maybe it was because I thought it was time to take the next step in our relationship. We’d been dating for three months, and I’d held off on sleeping with him. Maybe it was time, I thought

Larry’s POVWaking up wasn’t the blissful experience I had hoped for. My body ached all over from the accident, but the first sensation I registered wasn’t pain—it was pleasure. Slow, deliberate strokes on my shaft. In my half-conscious state, I moaned a name that had haunted my dreams for years.“Claire…”That was when I snapped awake, just as my release coated the face of the nurse kneeling beside my hospital bed. Her lips curved into a sultry smile, wiping the mess off her skin with a tissue she’d plucked from the bedside table.“What the hell are you doing?” I hissed, mortified but too stunned to move properly.She chuckled. “Good morning to you too, Dr. Hart,” she said, her voice syrupy sweet. “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it. I just wanted to help you relax after your little accident.”I narrowed my eyes, trying to recall her name. Annie? No. Angela? Whatever. It didn’t matter. All I knew was that this little stunt could cost me everything.“What if my wife walked in just now?

Mirabel’s POVI stared at myself in the mirror, my fingers trailing along the edge of the sink. My reflection looked too... perfect. Too composed. That wouldn’t work. Not for what I needed to do. I grabbed my makeup bag, the plan forming clearly in my head. If people were going to believe me, I had to look the part.The foundation went on first, lighter than my natural tone to wash out my skin. Then came the green concealer, just enough under my eyes to create shadows that screamed exhaustion. A smudge of pale lipstick dulled my lips, making me look like I hadn’t eaten in days. I mussed my hair, letting it fall messily around my face. For the finishing touch, I spritzed my cheeks and forehead with water to mimic sweat.Perfect. I looked like a woman on the brink of collapse.When I walked into the living room, Vincent’s mother nearly dropped her phone. “Oh my! Mirabel, are you feeling okay? You look so—”“Sick?” I cut her off, giving her a weak smile. “Good. That’s exactly what I was

Claire's POVThe buzzing in my ears matched the frantic pounding of my heart. I didn’t know what woke me at first, but then I saw it—my phone screen lighting up again and again with notifications. I reached for it, already dreading what I’d find.The cruel words hit me like a brick wall."Gold digger.""Vincent’s charity case.""A mistress who got lucky—for now."The bile in my throat rose as my eyes scanned the endless comments and reposts. My stomach churned at the images attached: Vincent and Mirabel in that damn video. Her smug smile. His stunned silence. The way the headlines twisted everything to fit their sordid narrative.I didn’t realize I was crying until the door burst open. Emily marched in, looking like a storm about to unleash hell.“Claire!” Her voice cut through my haze. “What the hell are you doing with that phone?”I couldn’t speak. My hand gripped the device like it was my last tether to reality, but Emily wasn’t having it. She marched over and snatched it from me wi