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Beyond The Billionaire's Cruel Obsession Novel Cover

Beyond The Billionaire's Cruel Obsession

For five years, I was married to a man the world adored. I told myself he wasn't a monster, just incapable of love. I learned the truth when his men dragged me from a hospital bed to bake a cake for the spoiled lover he cherished more than life. He let that man, Cinnamon, carve a painting into my back with a needle. He had me thrown into a walk-in freezer when I refused to cook. He even made me crawl through a swimming pool filled with broken glass, all to appease Cinnamon's cruel whims. I finally understood. My husband wasn't incapable of love; he was just incapable of loving me. He was a monster, but only for him. The day I walked out of that pool, bleeding and broken, my love for him was dead. The next morning, I finalized our divorce and bought every billboard in the city with my last dollar. My message was simple: "I, Adelaide Atkinson, am officially divorced from Alonzo Taylor. Best wishes for his future with Mr. Cinnamon Webster."
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Chapter 6

Adelaide POV:

Alonzo's icy gaze landed on me, and his words were laced with venom. "Adelaide. This is your doing, isn't it?"

I stared at him, bewildered. "My doing? He's the one harassing my friends!"

"Don't play innocent with me," Alonzo sneered, his lip curling in disgust. "You couldn't stand seeing me happy, so you sent your friend here," he gestured dismissively at Jaxon, "to try and seduce me. Pathetic."

The accusation was so outrageously false, so deeply insulting, that I felt a surge of white-hot anger. "You are delusional! Jaxon is my friend! We were celebrating my discharge from the hospital, a hospital I was in because of you! Cinnamon is the one who dragged them up here!"

My defiance only seemed to fuel Cinnamon's drama. Seeing that Alonzo hadn't immediately rushed to coddle him, he let out a theatrical sob and spun on his heel. "Fine! If you're going to take her side, then I'll just leave!"

He stormed out of the room.

Predictably, Alonzo's anger at me vanished, replaced by panic for his lover. "Cinnamon, wait!" he called, rushing after him.

I watched him go, a bitter taste in my mouth. He caught up to Cinnamon in the hallway, grabbing his arm gently.

"My love, don't be angry," I heard him murmur, his voice a low, soothing caress. "It's my fault. I'll make it right."

He led Cinnamon back to the doorway of the room. Cinnamon stood there, arms crossed, his face a mask of tear-streaked petulance.

"How?" Cinnamon demanded. "They insulted me! And your ex-wife's little boy-toy tried to hit on you! You have to punish him!"

Alonzo's head turned, his eyes locking onto Jaxon. The cold, ruthless CEO was back.

"You heard him," Alonzo said to his bodyguards. "He 'offended' Cinnamon. Break his hands. He's an architect, isn't he? Let's see how he designs anything after this."

A wave of pure terror washed over me. This wasn't a threat. It was a command.

"No!" I screamed, lunging in front of Jaxon as the bodyguards started to advance. "You can't! Alonzo, he's done nothing wrong!"

"Get out of the way, Adelaide," Alonzo warned, his voice dangerously calm.

I shook my head, my heart pounding against my ribs. "You will not touch him. His family is the Martinez Construction group. You lay a finger on him, and you'll have a war on your hands!"

One of the bodyguards gave a short, humorless laugh. "Mrs. Taylor... or should I say, Ms. Atkinson... the Martinez family is a gnat compared to Mr. Taylor. He could crush them before breakfast and not even notice."

The brutal truth of his words hit me like a physical blow. It was my fault. My connection to Alonzo, this toxic, destructive vortex, had pulled my friends into danger. My freedom had cost them their safety.

A cold, desperate resolve settled over me. There was only one currency this monster understood: pain and submission.

My eyes darted around the room and landed on a heavy, metal fire poker resting by the fireplace.

Before anyone could react, I grabbed it. My friends gasped. Jaxon cried out my name.

"Adelaide, what are you doing?"

I turned to the bodyguards, my voice shaking but clear. "He wants hands broken, right? To appease him?"

Without another word, I lifted the heavy poker high and brought it down with all my might onto my own left wrist.

A sickening, wet crunch echoed through the room, followed by an explosion of white-hot agony. I screamed, collapsing to my knees, the poker clattering to the floor. My wrist was bent at an unnatural angle, the pain so intense it made me want to vomit.

"ADDIE!" Jaxon yelled, rushing to my side, his face a mask of horror.

I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to look up at the stunned bodyguards, at Alonzo, whose face was for the first time unreadable, at Cinnamon, whose jaw was hanging open in shock.

"There," I gasped, cradling my shattered wrist. "A hand is broken. We're even. Now leave my friends alone."

The bodyguards exchanged a look, then glanced at Alonzo. After a long, tense moment, Alonzo gave a barely perceptible nod. They turned and walked out of the room.

My friends rushed to me, their faces pale. "Addie, are you crazy? We have to get you to a hospital!"

"We can't win," I whispered, tears of pain and frustration finally streaming down my face. "We can't fight him. Let's just go."

As Jaxon and my other friends helped me to my feet, a commotion erupted from the second-floor balcony overlooking the restaurant's main hall.

It was Cinnamon, screaming at Alonzo. He had climbed onto the railing, swaying precariously.

"You let her do that! You care about her more than me!" he shrieked, his voice hysterical. "If you don't promise to marry me right now, I'll jump!"

Alonzo's face was white with panic. "Cinnamon, get down from there! It's dangerous! I'll do anything, just get down!"

"Promise me!"

"I promise! I promise, now please, come down!" Alonzo begged, his voice cracking with desperation.

But Cinnamon, drunk and unstable, took a triumphant step back to climb down. His foot slipped.

He let out a short, surprised scream as he toppled backward off the railing.

Everything happened in slow motion.

He was falling directly toward where I stood, frozen in horror at the base of the stairs. My friends screamed and scattered.

I didn't have time to move.

Cinnamon Webster, all 150 pounds of him, slammed into me. My already injured body took the full impact. My head snapped back and hit the marble floor. My newly broken wrist and surgically repaired leg crumpled beneath the weight.

The last thing I saw before my world went dark was Alonzo Taylor, his face a canvas of pure terror, scrambling down the stairs. He didn't even glance at my crumpled, broken form on the floor. His eyes were only for the man who had just used me as a human airbag. He frantically knelt, cradling Cinnamon in his arms, his voice a broken sob.

"Cinnamon? Oh god, Cinnamon, are you okay? Please, say something..."

He never even looked at me.

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