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Billionaire Husband Pretended To Be Poor, I Left Novel Cover

Billionaire Husband Pretended To Be Poor, I Left

After five years of scavenging to support her allegedly destitute husband, a woman discovers he is actually a wealthy Wall Street mogul. Her world shatters when he endangers their son’s life and forces her into medical agony to save another woman’s child. Choosing to walk away, she finds a more powerful ally and starts anew. Left with nothing but a charred photo, the arrogant billionaire is reduced to a broken man, weeping in the snow for the family he betrayed while she thrives far beyond his reach.
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Chapter 6

Standing outside the VIP lounge, I heard everything.

So he knew. He knew I loved him to the point of losing all dignity. He knew Alaric craved even the smallest scrap of fatherly love. That was why he dared to trample on us like trash, using us as tools to show off his control in front of Isolde!

Caspian, you're too confident.

This time, I will take Alaric and disappear completely. Since you think we'll crawl back like dogs, I'll show you that even a "dog" has a backbone.

As soon as Alaric's wound was bandaged, I rushed him out of the hospital as if we were fleeing for our lives.

"Mommy, where are we going?" Alaric looked up, his eyes still glazed from the anesthesia.

"Home to get our passports. We're leaving," I said, pulling him quickly toward the curb. "We're going to a place where there is no daddy."

Just as we reached the intersection, a black van with no license plates mounted the sidewalk like a mad beast and cut us off!

The door slid open violently. Two men in ski masks jumped out. Without a word, a pungent, wet cloth was clamped over my nose and mouth.

The smell of ether shot straight to my brain.

I forced myself to calm down, quietly fumbled for my phone, and sent the text message I had previously drafted but hadn't sent to Valerius: I need your help.

...

When I woke up, it was from a bucket of freezing water being splashed on me.

I choked, coughing violently, and realized Alaric and I were tied to a concrete pillar in an unfinished building.

"Awake?" The leader of the kidnappers sat on a pile of broken crates, playing with a gleaming dagger. "Call your billionaire husband. Fifty million dollars, or I'll make you wish you were dead."

I spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, looking at Alaric, who was trembling with fear. Despair washed over me. "You grabbed the wrong people. In his eyes, we aren't even worth five bucks."

"Bullshit!" The kidnapper kicked me in the stomach. "You're the Mrs. Thorne, and this kid is the eldest son. He has to pay! Don't play games with me!"

"No... don't hit Mommy..." Alaric cried out.

Impatient, the kidnapper yanked Alaric over and pulled out a syringe filled with a grotesque green liquid. The needle pressed against Alaric's tender neck. "Won't pay, huh? See this? It's the latest poison from the black market. Once injected, his whole body will fester, his insides will feel like they're burning, and he'll scream for three days and nights before dying."

"No!" I screamed like a madwoman, struggling against the ropes. "I'll call! I'll call right now! Don't hurt my son!"

"Beep—beep—"

Finally, the call connected.

In the background, I could hear elegant orchestral music and the laughter of guests toasting.

I suddenly remembered—today was Isolde's birthday.

"Who is this?" Caspian's voice came through, sounding slightly drunk and lazy.

"Mr. Thorne," the kidnapper spoke grimly. "I have your wife and son. If you want them alive, get fifty million dollars in old bills ready. You have half an hour to bring it to the West Harbor pier."

There was a pause on the other end.

Before Caspian could speak, Isolde's voice suddenly cut in. "Oh my, fifty million? Caspian, this must be a birthday surprise from Ivy, right? She knows it's my birthday, so she staged this scene to trick you into leaving and ruining my party. After all, she probably doesn't want you to be with me."

Caspian let out a cold, mocking laugh. "Ivy, your methods are getting more and more disgusting. For a little money, for that pathetic jealousy of yours, you actually hired people to stage a kidnapping? Do you think I'm an idiot?"

I screamed into the phone, "It's not an act! Caspian, I beg you! These are real criminals! They have poison! They will really kill Alaric! Please save him! As long as you pay, I swear I will never disturb you and Isolde again!"

"Enough!" Caspian's voice held zero warmth. "I don't want to hear the same thing twice. This clumsy trick only makes me sick. You want money? Keep dreaming."

The kidnapper was enraged. He roared into the phone, "Caspian, if you don't pay, I'm injecting your son with poison right now! Don't you regret this!"

On the other end, Caspian swirled his wine glass nonchalantly, his voice cold enough to induce despair:

"Go ahead, then. And while you're at it, throw that lying crazy woman into the Atlantic to feed the fish. Fifty million? I'd rather spend it on fireworks for Isolde than save them. Don't disturb us while we cut the cake."

"Click—"

The call was hung up decisively.

The kidnapper stared at the phone in disbelief, then exploded into a furious rage. "F*ck! I've been played! This guy is heartless; he doesn't even care about his own son! Since I can't get the money, I'll take it out on this brat!"

He spun around, his face twisted, and stabbed the syringe viciously into Alaric's thin arm!

"No—! Take me! Please, take me instead!"

My eyes nearly split open. I struggled desperately to break the ropes, my wrists rubbed raw and bloody, but I could only watch helplessly as the green liquid was pushed into Alaric's body bit by bit.

"Ah—! Mommy, save me! It hurts! My veins are burning!"

Alaric let out a blood-curdling scream. His small body convulsed violently on the ground, foam spilling from his mouth, his eyes rolling back. It looked like countless worms were wriggling frantically under his skin.

"Alaric!"

I cried out in despair.

In the split second before the call had disconnected, what came faintly from the other end was Isolde's girlish laughter and the crowd cheering, "Happy Birthday!"

It was their carnival, but it was our doomsday.