Betrayed By The Billionaire Free Preview

"Where is this?"

When Chloe Bishop woke up, she found herself in an cold and unfamiliar room. Her head was spinning, and her whole body felt terrible.

She immediately tried to get out of bed and leave. Tomorrow was her wedding to As—she had waited six years for this day, and it was finally almost here. Nothing could go wrong now.

Outside the door, Liam Martin leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette. His face was expressionless as he looked at the man before him. "Go in. Just don't kill her."

The man hesitated and asked once more, "Mr. Martin, are you sure about this?"

The woman inside was New York City's top socialite. She was also this man's fiancée—and they were getting married tomorrow!

"Go in. I won't say it a third time."

Liam Martin's voice was calm, pleasant to the ear, but his words cut like shards of ice.

Soon, screams erupted from inside. "Who are you?! Stay back... what are you doing... let go of me... help...!"

Outside the door, Liam Martin listened to Chloe Bishop's desperate cries for help. He stood there cold and unmoved, his mind filled with images of another woman—bruised and broken.

Chloe Bishop, don't blame me. You're not innocent either.

He didn't believe for a second that she knew nothing about what Charles Bishop had done.

A few hours earlier.

"Liam Martin, we found the one who imprisoned Sara."

"Who is it?"

Liam Martin stood beside the bed, his tall frame casting a shadow as he gazed at the woman sleeping quietly. Her face was pale, her body gaunt, and bruises covered her from head to toe. It was clear what she had endured.

Brandon Jay gritted his teeth and spat out two words: "Charles Bishop."

Him. The father of Liam Martin's fiancée, Chloe Bishop.

"I see."

Liam Martin's voice remained soft, but beneath it lurked a storm of blood and vengeance. "You're Sara's brother. What do you want to do?"

"Drag Chloe Bishop out here. Whatever Charles Bishop did to Sara, I want to take it back tenfold, a hundredfold—from his daughter."

When Liam Martin didn't answer right away, Brandon Jay's voice turned sharp with anger. "Having second thoughts? Of course you are—you and Chloe Bishop are getting married tomorrow. Naturally you'd hesitate. Too bad Sara suffered so much for you."

"There won't be a wedding tomorrow."

Liam Martin's reply was cold and final. "I'll give you and Sara an answer."

From the day Charles Bishop imprisoned Sara Jay, every kindness the Bishop family had shown him over the years meant nothing. He should never have crossed that line.

Inside the room, Chloe Bishop struggled with all her might, but her body grew weaker by the second. Her clothes were being torn from her. She screamed in despair, "Help me... As, help me...!"

Tears streamed down her cheeks and soaked into her hair.

Why is this happening? Tomorrow I'm supposed to marry As. I wanted to give myself to him completely—all of me. Why?!

Hearing her call his name, Liam Martin drew faster on his cigarette, smoke curling through the air. After tonight, Chloe Bishop would be ruined beyond repair.

His mind drifted back to six years ago. That day, a girl like a princess had walked toward him with unwavering steps, pointed at him, and said, "I choose him as my fiancé."

Everyone knew that the gifted eldest grandson of the Martin family had lost a leg in a car accident—but she chose him anyway. From that moment on, the boy cast aside by his family finally had something to rebuild his life with.

Liam Martin stubbed out his cigarette and pulled out his phone, dialing a number. "Stop. Get out now."

Chloe Bishop. Consider this repayment for what you did six years ago.

Brandon Jay stepped out from the corner, his expression dark with disappointment. "So you went soft after all. Is that fair to Sara?"

Liam Martin's voice stayed flat. "Sara is kind. She wouldn't want us to do this. Tomorrow's wedding—I'll give you and her an answer."

Morning.

"As... help me...!"

Chloe Bishop shot up from her nightmare with a scream, her hair wet with tears.

She immediately looked down and checked her clothes—still intact, perfectly in place. Her wrists and chest bore no marks. And she was in her own bedroom.

Just a dream? Then why did it feel so real?

So vivid that her heart ached as if it had been carved open.

But if it wasn't a dream, how could her torn clothes still be on her body? How could there be no bruises?

And if it wasn't a dream, how could she have seen Liam Martin standing outside the door while she was being humiliated inside?

Sara Jay. She hadn't heard that name in years.

Was her mind playing tricks on her because today was her wedding day—dragging up buried fears from the depths of her heart?

"Chloe, get up! Today's the most important day for you and As—no sleeping in!"

Her mother's voice came from outside the door, and Chloe Bishop's tense body slowly relaxed. It really was just a nightmare.

Two hours later, Chloe Bishop sat before the mirror in her wedding gown, her face radiant with joy. Her mother carefully brushed her hair as the reflection staring back was breathtakingly beautiful.

Chloe Bishop was famous in New York City—168 centimeters tall, slender-boned, with curves in all the right places and an elegant oval face that was both delicate and striking. She was hailed as the city's top socialite.

But the most remarkable thing about her was her skin—smooth as white jade, fair and luminous, like a peeled egg, so flawless it seemed it might break at the gentlest touch.

Everyone who saw her marveled at her natural beauty.

"Look at you—my daughter is so beautiful."

Her mother's eyes welled up as she gazed at her daughter in the wedding gown. "My precious girl is finally getting married. From now on, you'll manage the home while he handles the world outside. Build a good life with As, have children, keep the family happy and harmonious—make it a story people will tell."

Chloe Bishop smiled and squeezed her mother's hand. "Mom, I'll be happy. I believe As will be a wonderful husband."

Her mother pulled her into a tight embrace, her voice choked with tears. "If he ever treats you badly, your father and I will make him pay."

From the side, Charles Bishop spoke, his voice rough. "Enough. This is our daughter's happiest day—don't say such gloomy things."

Chloe Bishop reached out and touched her mother's pregnant belly, her bright, radiant face wrapped in pure happiness. "Dad, Mom, don't worry. As promised me he'd treat me well for the rest of my life. I believe he'll never betray me."

At twenty-two, Chloe Bishop had never doubted Liam Martin.

He was a man of immense talent and a gentle, considerate boyfriend—flawless in every way. She trusted he would be a good husband and a good father.

As for that unsettling dream—it could never happen. She had been by Liam Martin's side for six years. They had been through so much together. No one could tear them apart.

But Chloe Bishop didn't notice the shadow of worry that flickered in her father's eyes as he watched her happy smile.

At the Martin residence.

In Liam Martin's room lay a beautiful woman. She was thin, her pale skin covered in scars, one side of her face swollen and bruised.

This woman was Sara Jay—the very one from Chloe Bishop's nightmare.

"Have you found out who did this yet?"

Liam Martin's usually warm, handsome face was now shrouded in a heavy gloom—cold, sharp, like the calm before a storm.

At twenty-four, Liam Martin had spent six years climbing to the position of CEO, reclaiming what was once his and becoming the youngest and most accomplished executive in New York City.

Looking at the scars—old and new—that covered Sara Jay's body, Liam Martin felt both pity and rage. Who dared to harm her like this? They were asking for death.

His subordinate kept his head low, not daring to meet Liam Martin's eyes. "Secretary Sara is investigating. I'm sure we'll have answers soon."

If Chloe Bishop were here, she would realize that everything was unfolding exactly as her nightmare had foretold.

Since Brandon Jay was already on it, Liam Martin didn't press further.

He carefully took Sara Jay's hand, afraid of hurting her. His gaze lingered on her swollen face—beyond the heartache, there was also a quiet relief at having her back.

Marcus Martin had said she was dead. He never expected her to still be alive—and lying right before him...

"Sara!"

Liam Martin called out softly.

It was a tenderness that Chloe Bishop had never once felt in nine years.

In the car accident that took his parents and half his leg, it was Sara Jay who stayed by his side through the darkest, most desperate days.

He had wanted to die. She pulled him back. In his cold, desolate world, she lit a single candle and showed him light and warmth again.

But good things never lasted. Half a year later, his uncle Marcus Martin imprisoned Sara Jay, using her as leverage against both Liam Martin and Brandon Jay.

From that day on, Liam Martin never saw her again.

Aside from the occasional photos Marcus Martin sent over the years, Liam Martin knew nothing of Sara Jay's fate—where she was, what she endured.

Then, at Chloe Bishop's birthday banquet, she chose him. With the Bishop family's influence, he rose quietly, broke free from Marcus Martin's control, and secretly took over many of his businesses.

Enraged, Marcus Martin sent Liam Martin a photo of Sara Jay—a knife in her chest, collapsed in a pool of blood—and told him she was dead.

Liam Martin and Brandon Jay were devastated. They struck back fiercely and finally drove Marcus Martin into a corner.

When Marcus Martin was imprisoned, he admitted to Liam Martin in person: he had killed Sara Jay.

Liam Martin's heart died that day. He agreed to Charles Bishop's push for marriage.

He had already failed Sara Jay. He couldn't fail Chloe Bishop too.

But now, Liam Martin had already cast Chloe Bishop from his mind. He held Sara Jay's hand gently in his own. "Sara. I will never leave you again. And I will never let anyone hurt you."

It was a man's promise.

No one could ever replace her in his heart—not even Chloe Bishop, who had stood by him for six years.

Sara Jay slept deeply, like a tranquil sleeping beauty.

The man standing in the study opened his mouth several times, then stopped.

Today was Mr. Martin and Miss Bishop's wedding day—but it seemed Mr. Martin had completely forgotten. He still hadn't changed.

Finally, the trembling subordinate outside the door gathered the courage to speak. "Mr. Martin... it's almost time. You should get dressed and go pick up the bride."

Liam Martin didn't seem to hear him. He sat motionless by the bed.

The subordinate wisely fell silent. He didn't have the nerve to say it again.

After a long while, Liam Martin finally stood. "Get my clothes."

An hour later, the wedding convoy appeared at the intersection outside the Bishop family villa. Dozens of luxury cars stretched out in a single line—an impressive sight.

All of Chloe Bishop's friends and family had arrived. The entire Bishop household was filled with laughter and joy, overflowing with celebration.

"They're here! The wedding cars are here!"

Cheers drifted up from downstairs.

Dressed in her exquisite bridal gown, Chloe Bishop threw caution to the wind and hurried to the balcony. She watched as the main wedding car slowly pulled up outside the gate.

Her mother's stern voice rang out from inside. "Chloe, come back and sit down properly. That's bad luck."

"Just one look."

Chloe Bishop held up a slender finger and gave her mother a playful wink.

Her mother frowned. "No!"

Seeing her mother's stern face, Chloe Bishop dropped her smile and reluctantly walked back inside.

"You!"

Her mother tapped her on the forehead. "Stay put. Your father and I will go down first."

She turned to Chloe Bishop's bridesmaids and added sternly, "When Liam Martin comes up, lock the door tight. Don't let her have her way. No opening the door before the auspicious hour, do you hear me?"

When it came to Liam Martin, Chloe Bishop had never been able to hold her ground.

Chloe Bishop laughed playfully. "Don't worry, Mother. This time, I'll listen to you."

From the very first time she saw that young man in white all those years ago, she had fallen—and no one else had ever caught her eye. She had waited all these years; she could wait another half hour.

Listening to the festive firecrackers outside, Chloe Bishop gazed at her reflection in the mirror and smiled with pure happiness. "Liam. I'm finally going to marry you."

She had waited for this day for so, so long.

Outside the Bishop villa, Liam Martin stepped out of the main wedding car with long, steady strides.

He wore a white suit, his features sharp and handsome, his bearing refined. His tall figure stood before the car, so perfect that people almost forgot about his disability.

Amidst the praise and laughter, Liam Martin led the wedding party toward the Bishop residence. Then his phone rang.

It was Brandon Jay. The investigation must have yielded results.

Liam Martin answered. "Brandon."

Brandon Jay's voice came through, darker and heavier than usual. "We found the mastermind behind what happened to Sara."

"Who is it?"

Straight ahead, Charles Bishop and his wife were walking toward him with warm smiles.

They looked at the tall, graceful young man before them—elegant as polished jade—and felt nothing but satisfaction. A son-in-law couldn't be more perfect.

Brandon Jay said, "It's Charles Bishop. Sara has been imprisoned in the Bishop family's old estate all along. And Marcus Martin—he was the one who sent him away."

Liam Martin's pupils contracted sharply. The warmth in his eyes was replaced by frost and ice. His usual gentleness vanished completely.

His voice held no trace of warmth. "Are you sure?"

Brandon Jay answered with certainty. "I'm sure."

Liam Martin's hand dropped to his side. He watched the Bishop couple approaching him, and a cold, mocking smile curled at the corner of his mouth. So be it. Then I don't need to feel guilty about what I'm about to do.

He had planned to explain things to Chloe Bishop himself. But now—he didn't want to say a word. She had known about Sara Jay all along, yet she still pretended everything was fine and went through with this marriage.

Chloe. I really underestimated you.

Upstairs, Chloe Bishop was taking photos with her bridesmaids. In every shot, happiness and sweetness radiated from her face.

Gwen Grayson handed her a box. "Chloe, this is a gift from all of us for your wedding day. I've been holding onto it because Auntie was around—open it and see if you like it."

"What is it? So mysterious."

Chloe Bishop took the box and opened it under her friends' eager gazes. "What... what is this?"

Inside lay a set of sexy lingerie.

Gwen Grayson grinned mischievously. "It's for your wedding night."

Chloe Bishop pinched the tiny scrap of black lace between her fingers, looking deeply skeptical. "Can this thing even be worn?"

Wouldn't it be simpler and more efficient to just skip straight to the main event?

Gwen Grayson rolled her eyes at her. "What do you know? Men love that teasing glimpse of skin. It's called marital chemistry."

Gwen Grayson smiled gently. "Just trust us on this one."

"Really?"

Chloe Bishop stared at the flimsy fabric in her hand, a blush creeping across her cheeks as images flickered through her mind.

Tonight, she would become Liam Martin's wife.

Suddenly, a commotion erupted from downstairs.

"Let me go check."

Gwen Grayson said and walked out to the balcony.

Moments later, she came back in, her expression heavy. "Chloe... Liam Martin left."

The color drained from Chloe Bishop's face in an instant. Not even her makeup could hide the paleness beneath.

That dream... was coming true?

"The wedding is cancelled."

Those four words from Liam Martin landed like a bomb in the Bishop household, catching everyone off guard. It took them a long moment to process what they'd just heard.

The groom had run out on the wedding!

The groom had run out on the wedding!

By the time the guests snapped out of their shock, Charles Bishop had already sprinted out the gate and thrown himself in front of the lead wedding car, which was already starting to pull away.

The car was a convertible supercar—everything inside was visible.

Liam Martin stared coldly at Charles Bishop and said with finality, "The wedding is cancelled. All previous promises are void."

"What did you say?"

Charles Bishop's face went deathly pale.

Liam Martin's lips curved into a faint smile, but it was laced with bitterness. "You should have seen this coming the moment you imprisoned Sara Jay. Isn't that right?"

Panic flickered in Charles Bishop's eyes. The thing he had feared most had happened.

Three months ago, Marcus Martin—cornered by Liam Martin—had brought Sara Jay to Charles Bishop and begged him to help escape New York City. That was when Charles Bishop first learned of her existence.

To be fair, Sara Jay's beauty wasn't particularly striking, not even comparable to Chloe Bishop's.

But there was something about her—a quality that made men instinctively want to protect her.

Fragile, pure, impossible not to pity.

After meeting Sara Jay, Charles Bishop feared she might disrupt Chloe Bishop and Liam Martin's relationship. So he hid her away and began pushing the wedding forward.

He had planned to come clean with Liam Martin after the ceremony. But last night, Sara Jay had disappeared, and he had no idea where she was now.

He had hoped that if the wedding went smoothly today—if they could just get through it—then he would confess everything.

But the worst had happened.

"Liam Martin, listen to me. I can explain everything. Today is your and Chloe's wedding day. Don't let your temper break her heart."

"I said the wedding is cancelled."

Liam Martin's face remained unmoved, anger flashing in his eyes. "Move."

Three full months.

Charles Bishop had held Sara captive for three whole months—and Liam Martin had known nothing. He had believed she was truly dead, and foolishly agreed to this marriage.

Now he realized: Charles Bishop had started pushing for the wedding exactly three months ago. That meant Sara had already been in his hands by then.

Did the Bishop family really take him for a fool?

Thinking of the wounds covering Sara Jay's body, Liam Martin's hatred for Charles Bishop burned even hotter.

If his men hadn't found Sara last night and arrived in time, she would have been brutalized by thugs.

How could he ever let that slide?

Charles Bishop's voice shook with desperation and anger. "Liam Martin, calm down! All our friends and family are here. Chloe is still inside waiting for you. Can you bear to make her the laughingstock of the whole city?"

"That's on you. Let me make this clear, Charles Bishop—from today on, the Bishop family means nothing to me."

From today on, the Bishop family means nothing to me.

Chloe Bishop ran out just in time to hear those words. She froze, staring blankly at the man in the sports car.

Liam Martin saw her too. They were only a few meters apart. He could see clearly—her face was almost translucent with shock.

She had always been radiant, and in her wedding finery she was more stunning than anyone. The white gown accentuated her elegance and beauty perfectly.

She had taken his breath away once again.

Liam Martin thought: if Chloe Bishop had never met him, she would have been the most beautiful, happiest bride in the world.

But now, those once-bright, shining eyes had dimmed—because of him.

For a moment, Liam Martin felt a pang of guilt. In the end, he had failed her.

But compared to Sara, Chloe Bishop was far luckier.

He pulled his gaze away and stared coldly at Charles Bishop, reversing the car a few meters. "I'll say it one last time. Move."

Charles Bishop thought of Chloe Bishop's radiant happiness just moments ago, and then looked at this cold, heartless man before him. His heart twisted in pain.

No one was going to hurt his precious daughter—least of all Liam Martin.

Charles Bishop knew better than anyone how deeply Chloe Bishop loved him.

He threw caution to the wind and roared, "Liam Martin, if you insist on leaving, then run me over!"

Liam Martin sat in the car, his face dark as he locked eyes with Charles Bishop for a long moment. Then, without warning, the car lurched forward straight at him—

"No—!"

A scream tore from Chloe Bishop's throat.

Just as everyone braced for the impact, the car swerved sharply, grazing past Charles Bishop.

Charles Bishop stumbled, then immediately chased after it. "Come back! You bastard—get back here!"

The bastard had really left. He'd abandoned Chloe here.

Chloe Bishop wanted to call out to her father to stop chasing—if Liam Martin had been ruthless enough to leave her behind, then his heart was no longer with her.

What was the point of dragging back someone whose heart had already left?

But no sound would come from her throat. She could only watch helplessly as they disappeared farther and farther into the distance.

At the intersection ahead, the car suddenly turned. A sedan came barreling straight toward them. Charles Bishop, caught off guard and exposed behind the car, had no time to dodge—his body was sent flying through the air.

"Dad—no—!"

"No...!"

"Mrs. Bishop—Mrs. Bishop! Oh god... she's bleeding so much! Hurry—call an ambulance!"

Do you know what color the sky is?

For Chloe Bishop at this moment, it was gray.

Outside the operating room.

Chloe Bishop sat in her expensive white strapless gown, trembling, like a lifeless puppet—motionless, silent, barely breathing.

The dress, once pristine white, was now stained with splotches of blood. Her skin had always been pale, but against the blood, it seemed almost paper-thin and ghostly.

The blood on her gown and skin bloomed like vivid roses, making her beauty seem fragile and almost otherworldly.

Just moments ago, her father had been rushed into the emergency room. Her mother had been wheeled into another operating room for an induced labor.

The Bishop family relatives who had come along were all seething with indignation.

But when they looked at Chloe Bishop, sitting there colorless and silent, they couldn't bring themselves to say a word.

That Liam Martin... what a cruel man...

Chloe Bishop stared blankly at her blood-stained hands. Her mind replayed the image of her father being struck—over and over, a memory she couldn't escape.

He saw it. Liam Martin clearly saw Dad get hit.

Yet his car paused for only a moment—and then drove on.

He had turned a blind eye to her father's accident and simply left them behind.

Could someone tell her what had happened?

Why did he change so suddenly? Today was supposed to be their happiest day.

Before this, they had always been so good together—never a harsh word, never a fight. Why?

Chloe Bishop remembered the dream.

Was it because of Sara Jay?

Had Sara Jay come back?

What had her father and Liam Martin been hiding from her?

Mrs. Bishop hemorrhaged heavily, but in the end, both she and the baby survived.

Charles Bishop also barely clung to life, but due to severe head trauma, he had fallen into a deep coma.

The doctors reassured them that he would improve once he woke up—but they didn't say when that would be.

Once things stabilized, Chloe Bishop saw off the relatives and gave instructions to the household staff.

Throughout it all, she appeared exceptionally calm and composed.

One of the servants returned with clean clothes for her to change into.

When she cradled the tiny new life in her arms—she who had never been one to cry—tears finally blurred her vision.

After a long moment, she set the baby down and spoke, her voice hoarse. "Please take care of them. I need to step out."

Just then, her drowsy mother stirred awake. She looked at Chloe Bishop with weak but bitter eyes. "After everything that's happened... you're still going to him?"

Chloe Bishop forced a faint smile. "Mom, don't worry. I just need an answer. I'll be back soon."

With that, she turned and left the hospital.

The moment she stepped outside, a tall, slender young man walked toward her, concern etched on his face. "Chloe."

It was Justin Taylor, Liam Martin's friend.

Chloe Bishop looked at him, her expression flat, her voice rough. "Why haven't you gone home?"

He said, "I was worried about you. Are you going to the Martin residence?"

She nodded.

"I'll take you," he offered.

She didn't refuse and got into his car.

Once inside, she pulled out her phone. From the moment everything fell apart until now, Liam Martin hadn't sent a single call or message.

She lowered her gaze for a long moment, then pressed his number.

The call connected—but after a few rings, it was cut off.

He wasn't answering. Why?

"Justin, do you know why he left today?"

She lifted her head to look at Justin Taylor.

He knew who she was asking about, but her calmness unsettled him. "I don't know. You should ask him yourself."

Chloe Bishop could clearly see her own reflection in his eyes—a lifeless face, pale as a ghost.

She turned to look out the window and said nothing more.

An hour later, at the Martin residence.

Liam Martin was having dinner with Brandon Jay and Sara Jay.

Sara Jay had woken up at noon. She still looked frail, her skin unnaturally pale—almost sickly from years of being kept from sunlight.

"Mr. Martin, Miss Bishop is here."

A servant entered and stopped beside Liam Martin.

Liam Martin ignored him and placed some food on Sara Jay's plate—all things she had loved as a child.

Sara Jay beamed, delighted like a child, yet with a woman's fragile charm that was utterly captivating.

Liam Martin's eyes softened with affection. "Eat more if you like it."

A moment later, the servant spoke again. "Mr. Martin, Miss Bishop is still waiting outside."

Liam Martin thought of what Charles Bishop had done and answered coldly, "Tell her I'm not seeing anyone."

No sooner had he spoken than Chloe Bishop strode in, with Justin Taylor following behind—two injured bodyguards in tow.

At the sight of the strangers, Sara Jay shot up in alarm, her pretty face going pale as a frightened deer.

Chloe Bishop stopped in her tracks: Sara Jay. She really was back.

Liam Martin glanced at Chloe Bishop, then rose and pulled the trembling Sara Jay into his arms, murmuring softly, "Don't be scared. They're friends of mine."

"Oh—so they're friends."

Sara Jay smiled warmly at Chloe Bishop—innocent, pure, her eyes clear and untroubled.

To Chloe Bishop, it was unbearably jarring.

After all these years with Liam Martin, this was the first time she'd ever felt such a strong threat from another woman.

Sara Jay's beauty was untouched by any trace of the mundane.

She was like the purest, most untouchable white rose that lived in every man's heart.

And the irony was—Chloe Bishop hadn't even known when she'd come back.

Had she been that terrible of a fiancée?

"I'm sorry, Mr. Martin. We couldn't stop her."

The two bodyguards hung their heads in shame.

Liam Martin glanced at Justin Taylor, then returned his gaze to Chloe Bishop. After a few seconds of silence, he said to her, "Come with me."

His voice was as calm and gentle as ever—as if nothing had happened.

But Chloe Bishop didn't move. She raised her hand and pointed at Sara Jay. "You left because of her, didn't you?"

Perhaps taking offense at her gesture toward Sara Jay, Liam Martin's voice cooled. "Let's talk upstairs."

"Let's talk here."

Chloe Bishop stood her ground.

Liam Martin looked at her steadily. For a long time, he said nothing.

"Sara, let's go outside."

Brandon Jay led Sara Jay toward the door.

The servants and bodyguards also took their leave, and soon the living room held only Chloe Bishop and Liam Martin.

"Is she the reason you left?"

She asked again after they were gone.

"You really don't know?"

Liam Martin's eyes bore into her, and a trace of mockery crept into his voice. "Your father kept her imprisoned in the Bishop family's old estate for three months. Those scars all over her body? They're thanks to you and your family—and you're telling me you don't know who she is?"

Father imprisoned Sara Jay?

Everything was playing out exactly as in her nightmare—except Liam Martin hadn't hired anyone to assault her.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I've never seen her before."

Chloe Bishop met his gaze honestly. Whether or not her father had actually imprisoned Sara Jay, she truly knew nothing about it. "So tell me—why would my father lock her up?"

She wasn't naive. If Liam Martin had no feelings for Sara Jay, why would her father have gone to such lengths?

Years ago, Liam Martin had told her himself—he only thought of Sara Jay as a little sister.

And yet today, he'd left her at the altar for Sara Jay's sake, throwing away six years of their relationship.

Liam Martin studied her. "You really don't know?"

Chloe Bishop let out a bitter laugh, her voice dry and strained. "As... it seems we've known each other all these years without truly understanding each other at all."

She had trusted him without question, believing she knew him best. Only today did she realize how devastatingly wrong she had been.

Looking at Chloe Bishop's red-rimmed eyes, Liam Martin withdrew his probing gaze. He dropped his eyelids and said nothing, his fine lashes hiding every trace of emotion.

Chloe Bishop had always loved Liam Martin's handsome face. Even now, standing there, he looked like a perfect painting—every line in balance.

But at this moment, she hated him. She hated his eyes, his brows, his pristine white shirt without a single wrinkle. She hated his eternal gentleness, his perpetual calm.

It took her a long moment to find her voice. "I came here to ask you one question. Why did you leave me at the altar?"

Why did he do this to her?

"I'm sorry."

Liam Martin was silent for a moment, then said those three words.

Three simple words—like salt rubbed into the bleeding wound of her heart. The pain was suffocating.

More than ten minutes later, Chloe Bishop left the Martin residence, dazed and hollow.

Liam Martin watched her lonely, broken figure disappear. He wasn't ruthless enough to let her go without a second thought—he pulled out his phone and called Justin Taylor. "Take good care of her."

Justin Taylor's reply was cold. "Remember this day well. Since you chose to abandon her, whatever happens to her from now on has nothing to do with you, Liam Martin."

On the way back, Chloe Bishop wept bitterly—heart-wrenching, soul-crushing sobs.

Justin Taylor didn't dare say a word or ask a single question. He simply sat with her in silence.

At the seaside.

Justin Taylor rolled down the window. The sea breeze rushed in, carrying the salty tang of seawater. Waves crashed against the rocks, and the night felt especially cold and lonely.

Chloe Bishop didn't know how long she had cried. Only when she had no tears left did she hear Justin Taylor speak.

He said, "That girl's name is Sara Jay. She's Brandon Jay's younger sister. She and Liam Martin grew up together—childhood sweethearts. In the car accident seven years ago, Sara Jay saved Liam Martin's life."

Chloe Bishop already knew all of this.

"Later, Sara Jay was imprisoned abroad by Marcus Martin, used as leverage against Brandon Jay and Liam Martin. Liam Martin had been searching for her all these years. He thought she was dead—never expected her to still be alive."

This—Chloe Bishop had never known.

Childhood sweethearts.

Sara Jay. Sara Jay. Brandon Jay's sister...

So all these years, Liam Martin had been lying to her.

"He thought Sara Jay was dead, so he agreed to marry me. That's what it was."

Chloe Bishop laughed bitterly, tears streaming down like pear blossoms in the rain—falling in pure white sadness, pitiful and aching.

"So I was the only one left in the dark. Like a fool, I was deceived for six years—and I actually thought I was happy."

Just now, when Liam Martin apologized, his eyes held guilt and pity—but no love.

It was only in that moment that she finally understood.

All these six years, she had been the only one fully invested in this relationship. He had always kept his heart clear and untouched.

Just this morning, she had sworn to her parents that she believed Liam Martin would never betray her, that he would make her happy for the rest of her life.

Now, Liam Martin's slap had landed—and it stung.

She remembered his words just now: "Chloe, I'm sorry. I've let you down. But the truth is—I've always loved Sara Jay."

Six years by his side. Through madness and triumph, through countless nights of darkness and light. And in the end, all she got was a hollow "sorry."

Those moments she once treasured as the happiest of her life—now they seemed like nothing but elaborate schemes.

"Justin, he said he's always loved Sara Jay. He said love is about who came first. And with one sentence, he made me the most pitiful woman in New York City."

"He spent all these years putting on a show for me—using the Bishop family. I took his performance of devotion at face value, gave him my whole heart, loved him, protected him, and even threw myself at him shamelessly."

At eighteen, Chloe Bishop had been ready to give herself to Liam Martin completely. She had even crawled into his bed once.

But Liam Martin had acted like a proper gentleman, insisting on saving their first time for the wedding night—even when desire stirred, he never crossed the line.

"Only today did I realize—he didn't refuse me because he treasured me. He refused me because I never meant anything to him at all."

When the pain reached its limit, tears no longer came.

Chloe Bishop smiled desolately, her delicate lips drained of color.

"Chloe."

Justin Taylor opened his arms to her, a deep emotion spilling from his eyes. "You've lost him, but you still have friends like me. Whenever you need a shoulder to lean on, mine is here."

Chloe Bishop rested her head on Justin Taylor's arm and closed her eyes in exhaustion. "Thank you, Justin."

She was so tired. So incredibly tired.

Justin Taylor looked down at the woman in his arms. Only when he heard her even breathing did he dare to lift his hand and gently trace her face—reverent, lingering, memorizing every curve.

Chloe Bishop had a long dream. In it, her memories with Liam Martin played out like a movie—scene by scene, replaying in her mind.

At sixteen, her parents threw her a lavish birthday banquet. Many outstanding young men attended.

Though she was accomplished in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, she had no talent for business. The Bishop family had been passed down through three generations of only sons, and Charles Bishop had only her.

Fearing she couldn't handle the vast Bishop enterprise alone, her parents wanted to find an heir early on—someone to groom.

The young men who came that day were all between sixteen and twenty, each one exceptional.

Charles Bishop and his wife stood on the second-floor balcony, scanning the boys below, carefully evaluating each one.

After surveying the crowd, Mrs. Bishop pointed to a strikingly handsome young man. "What about him? Out of all the children here, I think he's the best."

Charles Bishop followed her gaze, then considered for a moment. "That's the Grayson family's child. The Grayson family situation is complicated. That kind of background wouldn't be right for Chloe."

His name was Xavier Grayson. He stood coolly behind his aunt, face expressionless as he watched the crowd—carrying a composure far beyond his years.

At nineteen, he was tall and exceptionally good-looking, with an innate nobility that made him stand out among the others like a crane among chickens.

But the Grayson family was tangled in complexities. Xavier Grayson had known the sting of others' scorn from a young age, aloof and quiet—not a good choice.

Hearing her husband's words, Mrs. Bishop looked away with regret. Soon enough, she spotted another promising candidate. "What about that one? He's from the Martin family, I hear. Good student, looks clean and gentle."

Charles Bishop frowned. "The Martin family? Which one?"

"The one standing under the magnolia tree."

Mrs. Bishop pointed again. "I think his name is Liam Martin."

Charles Bishop finally spotted the boy beneath the white magnolia.

Eighteen years old, pristine and warm as polished jade. White blossoms above him, pink lips, bright eyes like stars—like a painting untouched by the dust of the world.

"Him?"

Charles Bishop's frown deepened.

Mrs. Bishop looked at him expectantly. "What do you think? I've heard he's excellent in studies, good character, top in everything."

But Charles Bishop shook his head again. "No. The Martin family situation is even more complicated than the Grayson’s'. And he lost a leg in a car accident last year."

Liam Martin was indeed exceptional in every way and had always been highly valued by the Martin family.

If not for the car accident that cost him a leg and got him struck from the Old Lord's list of heirs, he wouldn't have been at this birthday banquet at all.

Moreover, his uncle Marcus Martin was deeply connected to that accident. Charles Bishop didn't want Chloe Bishop caught up in such a complicated and dangerous family.

Mrs. Bishop sighed in disappointment. Charles Bishop said, "Let's keep looking at the others."

At that very moment, a slender young girl was also leaning by the window, her gaze fixed on the boy beneath the magnolia tree. Her beautiful almond-shaped eyes sparkled with light.

He came!

Chloe Bishop never expected that the boy who had made her heart race—the one who had captivated her for two whole years—would actually show up at her birthday banquet.

Seeing the boy beneath the magnolia tree, she felt like her heart was about to leap right out of her chest.

This must be what it feels like to fall for someone.

The feeling wasn't unfamiliar to her.

Ever since the first afternoon of high school, when he ran toward her in his white jersey, that feeling had stayed with her ever since.

From then on, the basketball court became her daily pilgrimage.

Unfortunately, the accident took his leg, and she never saw him on the court again. It wasn't until the college entrance exams that he appeared at school in a wheelchair.

He got into New York University; she continued high school. But she never missed a single piece of news about him.

The guests had all arrived. Charles Bishop and his wife led Chloe Bishop downstairs.

It was worth mentioning that Chloe Bishop was quite famous in New York City.

They said that on the morning she was born, every flower in the private hospital bloomed at once, and a golden light hovered over the building—from a distance, it looked like a golden ingot.

At the time, the famous fortune-teller Keth Rollins happened to be recuperating in that same hospital.

He declared in front of visiting friends and relatives: "The youngest daughter of the Bishop family has arrived with a treasure bowl in hand. The Bishop household is about to change."

Back then, the Bishop family was still a small, unremarkable business.

But the family's later growth proved Keth Rollins right.

After Chloe Bishop's birth, in just a few short years, Bishop Group grew from an unknown company into one of New York City's largest enterprises. The entire Bishop family was on the rise.

The boys invited to today's banquet were all promising young talents selected from various families—but none of them were heirs.

Any boy chosen by Charles Bishop and his wife would eventually marry into the Bishop family. In plain terms, he'd be a live-in son-in-law.

Mrs. Bishop mentioned a few names to Chloe Bishop, but she couldn't hear a single one—because Liam Martin wasn't among them.

Mrs. Bishop led her daughter through the crowd, then let her go play with her friends.

Chloe Bishop had always been warm and easy to get along with. She had many friends, and the boys took the opportunity to shower her with attention.

The eldest daughter of the Bishop family had both good standing and good looks. Many of these young men would gladly marry into the family.

"You go too!"

Isabella saw that the young man beside her hadn't moved and grew anxious. "Xavier Grayson, you have to understand—if the Bishop family's daughter chooses you, Charles Bishop will help you pull some strings. Your father might get a shorter sentence."

The aloof young man's face finally showed a crack of hesitation.

Isabella pressed on. "I've looked around—you're the most outstanding one here. She'll definitely pick you. Go—for your father's sake."

Xavier Grayson looked at the girl surrounded like a princess. A faint, mocking smile tugged at his lips—but he walked over with long strides anyway.

Watching his tall, lean, straight back, Isabella smiled with satisfaction.

Ever since Xavier Grayson's father went to prison, the Grayson family had fallen into decline, year after year.

If Xavier Grayson was chosen by the Bishop family's daughter, the entire Grayson family would benefit.

"Hello, I'm Xavier Grayson. I'm from NYU—"

After finally shaking off the swarm of boys, Chloe Bishop's only thought was to get to the magnolia tree. She had no patience for small talk.

She spotted the boy under the tree about to leave. In her urgency, she cut Xavier Grayson off impatiently. "Sorry, you're blocking my way."

At that age, Chloe Bishop was proud.

She didn't even look up at Xavier Grayson—just walked right past him.

Xavier Grayson stared at his outstretched hand for a few seconds before pulling it back.

The crowd around them snickered at the Grayson family's fallen status, mocking his overreach.

But the boy seemed utterly indifferent to their ridicule. He glanced once at Chloe Bishop's retreating figure, then looked away without a trace of emotion.

No sadness, no anger—as if nothing in this vast world could affect him.

Just as he turned to leave, voices from the crowd reached his ears: "Is that Xavier Grayson? The son of that actress Lana Rose?"

"That's him. Lana Rose is such a disgrace. She got married but couldn't settle down—always chasing after other men. Eventually Lucian Grayson caught her red-handed, stabbed her lover to death in a rage, and threw away his own future."

"I don't know why Lucian Grayson only killed the lover. If it were me, I'd have gone after Lana Rose first."

Actress. Lover. Whore. These words cut into Xavier Grayson's heart like sharp knives. The cold, indifferent young man finally showed a flicker of emotion.

Chloe Bishop heard the whispers behind her and stopped. She frowned at the boy from before.

His fists were clenched so tight they were white. All color had drained from his face. His red-rimmed eyes seemed to burn with bloodlust, and the air around him radiated a killing intent—like a demon crawling up from hell.

She thought: He must hate his mother with a vengeance.

As Xavier Grayson walked away, he passed by Chloe Bishop, his gaze brushing over her face.

When his eyes swept across hers, she felt as if her blood had frozen solid. Her whole body went cold. Even her breath turned icy.

After Xavier Grayson left, it took Chloe Bishop a long time to recover from the fear. She thought to yourself: That boy must be a demon!

The episode came and went quickly.

Like a stone thrown into a lake—no one truly cared.

Because after Xavier Grayson left, everyone's attention returned to Chloe Bishop. She was the reason they were all here.

The beautiful, proud young girl, having turned down every boy, walked alone toward the one in white standing beneath the magnolia tree.

Everyone knew—this was the Bishop family's daughter's choice.

But... the Bishop family's daughter had chosen a cripple?

Chloe Bishop walked boldly toward the boy. It was the bravest thing she had ever done—and the first time she had openly defied her parents. "I choose him."

Liam Martin watched the girl walk toward him with unwavering steps, under the astonished, contemptuous, and envious gazes of the crowd. His hands slowly tightened.

"Why me?"

"Because I like you."

Chloe Bishop tried to sound casual, her bright eyes sparkling.

She was a beautiful girl—delicate as a porcelain doll. Her clear black-and-white eyes were so clean, so sincere, so brave.