All Chapters of Trapped with a Ruthless Billionaire : Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

The city was constantly alive, never truly at rest.Even now, long past midnight, lights shone from skyscraper windows, their artificial glow pooling on the wet streets below. The distant sound of traffic created a soft backdrop—a reminder that the world outside the turmoil within her continued. As Leila sat in her parked car, gripping the steering wheel as if it were a lifeline, it felt as if time had frozen around her. The burden of the last few hours weighed heavily on her, leaving her breathless, her mind tangled in a web of doubt and betrayal.She had switched off the engine over an hour ago but she hadn't moved. Not physically, at least. But mentally, emotionally, she had drifted about in a storm, battered by the waves of uncertainty. She spent years navigating Adrian’s world, understanding its rules, and mastering the art of survival in a game where trust was a currency often counterfeited. And yet, nothing had prepared her for this turmoil.The harrowing realization struck

Leila awoke to a profound stillness.There were no distant gunshots or whispers from Adrian’s men outside the penthouse. The usual tumult of her life was absent.And so was Adrian.That choice had been hers.She had checked into a high-end hotel room that offered not just luxury but also privacy. There were no digital footprints, no paper trails, and certainly no inquiries to deal with. If Adrian, Connor or Camille attempted to locate her, they would struggle to do so.Not that she was hiding. Not from Adrian.She simply needed space.Space to think. Space to breathe.Recent events had unraveled something vital within her, pulling apart her understanding of her life. Camille’s words had only force her to face the realities she had long ignored.Adrian’s hold over her life was deeper than she had recognized.And even worse—she had allowed it.Leila sighed, running a hand through her tangled hair. She had barely slept, and her mind spiraled through endless memories and half-formed doubt

AdrianThe city had lost its brightness.Adrian had always perceived life in black and white—order or chaos, strength or weakness, success or failure. Now, however, everything appeared gray, dull. The lively world outside his penthouse window felt remote, as if it belonged to a realm untouched by him.Leila had taken something with her when she left, but he didn’t know if it was gone for good.He sat in his office, elbows resting on the polished mahogany desk, he stared blankly at the screen of his laptop, displaying a financial report. The words blurred into a jumble of meaningless text that held no weight against the storm in his mind. He hadn’t slept and had barely eaten. The void left by her absence gnawed at him, carving out an emptiness he hadn’t realized he could feel.Connor entered quietly, placing a steaming cup of coffee on the desk with an uncharacteristic quietness.Adrian didn’t look up right away. “Any news?” His voice was raw and strained from fatigue.Connor hesitated

AdrianRain slithered down the windows in thin silver streams, painting the world outside in long, wavering streaks of neon and shadow. The city pulsed with restless energy, its lights fractured by the downpour into flickering, distorted fragments. Adrian sat motionless in the back seat of the car, the hum of the engine and the rhythmic patter of water against glass the only sound around him.But his mind was anything but quiet.Camille’s words echoed there like a low drumbeat—steady, taunting, unrelenting.“Leila’s gone. And you don’t know where she is. But I do.”He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to breathe slowly through his nose. The emotional response was useless. Uncontrolled reactions were a liability, and Camille was counting on that.Across from him, Connor shifted, his body tense with frustration. He didn’t like this situation—hadn’t liked it since the moment Adrian said they were meeting with Camille. And now that they’d left the café, he was practically vibrating with u

AdrianAs Adrian stepped inside the Ashford suite, the door clicked quietly behind him, the sound absorbed by the soft ambiance of the room. The air carried the scent of chamomile tea mixed with something distinctly reminiscent of her. He paused at the entrance, allowing the tranquility to envelop him like a gentle shroud over something fragile.Leila remained silent, instinctively retreating a step when he entered, placing a barrier between them despite the emotional distance that had already settled. Her arms were tightly crossed over her chest, sleeves pulled down over her hands, a gesture he interpreted not as anger but as self-defense.She was barefoot, dressed in one of those oversized sweaters she favored when she wanted to disappear into herself. He recalled the first time he saw her wearing it, curled up on his couch with a book on her lap, frowning in frustration over misplaced reading glasses. That memory felt painfully distant.His heart ached.She was there. Safe.Yet sti