Game of Love and Deception: The Billionaire's Ex Wife
Chapter 103: A Societal Misfit

Chapter 103: A Societal Misfit

Flashback continued...

Lorenzo clenched his teeth, fighting to contain the anger and fear rising in his chest.

"You don’t know what you’re talking about. You can’t just go around throwing baseless accusations," he said, his voice low and tense.

Whatever he had with Ashley was real. Genuine. How dare Charlotte try to taint it with something so vile?

And what other girls was she even talking about?

Charlotte rose from her seat with deliberate slowness, her long artificial nails tapping a rhythm on the table as she circled around to where he sat. His eyes followed her every move, his throat tightening with dread.

Every part of him wanted to leave, to run and never come back—but his body wouldn’t move.

She circled his seat like a predator, her voice dropping to a low, almost sultry whisper that made his skin crawl. "You’re really going to sit here and say you haven’t been sleeping with my niece?"

Lorenzo swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry.

"I—I never raped her. She’s my girlfriend," he stammered, fists tightening, veins bulging from the pressure. He tried to ignore her looming presence.

"Who cares? She’s sixteen, sweetheart," Charlotte replied with mock sweetness. Her gentle tone was laced with poison. "And I warned you. I warned you to stay away—from my niece and from me. But you defied both my order and my sweet girl."

She lingered on the last words, as if Ashley meant more to her than anything else in the world.

"And don’t forget those other poor innocent girls." Her tone shifted—grating, rusty, and deeply unsettling.

"You’re young, but your actions are far from it. You’re like a weed—growing where you’re least wanted," she said, each word leaving Lorenzo more confused than before.

He didn’t realize when his hand slammed down on the table. Charlotte flinched.

"Stop! Stop your lies!" he shouted, jumping to his feet. His voice trembled with fury, hands shaking.

For a moment, she looked startled. But then her expression shifted back to a cold, calm, and terrifying one.

The corners of her mouth lifted in a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. It wasn’t a smile at all. It was something much darker.

"Sit."

Just one word. One icy command.

But it held a quiet promise of danger. A shiver ran through him, but he refused to stay and listen to more of her madness.

"My mom and sister will be looking for me already. I have to go," he said, glancing toward the door, heart pounding.

Charlotte gave a lazy shrug, her face softening into an unsettlingly sweet smile. He didn’t want to know what was behind it.

He turned and made for the door, but her next words stopped him halfway.

"I’ll make sure you face the consequences of your actions, Lorenzo. And your mother... well, she’ll be getting a visit from me soon. She needs to know what kind of son she’s raised. A societal misfit."

The threat hit him like a punch to the gut. He clenched his jaw, struggling to remain calm as more anger and fear twisted inside him.

His steps quickened, body trembling, as he rushed out. Charlotte’s laughter followed him, echoing in his mind and sending chills down his spine.

*********

Two more days passed. Lorenzo still hadn’t heard from Ashley or her aunt. The silence was suffocating.

Why hadn’t Charlotte acted yet? Her words hung over him like a curse, stealing his sleep night after night. He hadn’t told his mother what happened, but a gnawing dread was eating him alive.

He tried to push the thoughts away—the lies about his girlfriend, the other girls Charlotte kept mentioning, but it was so difficult. What if Charlotte had fed Ashley those lies? What if that was why she wouldn’t see him?

No, he told himself, brushing his hand over his face. Ashley would never believe that about him.

His eyes drifted back to the email open on his computer. His scholarship to Princeton College. The words blurred as he reread them, lost in the chaos clouding his mind—except for one part: he had fourteen days to accept or reject. Four had already passed.

It was a chance to change his life. Studying abroad had always been his dream. But there was no way he could accept it. Not with that crazy woman already aware of their relationship.

He rolled his chair around and tilted his head back to stare blankly at the ceiling.

What was happening to Ashley? What torment was Charlotte putting her through now?

A cold memory clawed its way to the top of his mind. Ashley had once told him about the time Charlotte locked her in a dark basement for days just for disobeying an order.

What if... that’s where she was now?

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, shooting upright and running a hand through his hair in frustration. He paced the room, fury and helplessness burning through him. He couldn’t even imagine how scared she must be.

He had to do something. He had to get her out of that haunted house. But how?

Going to the police was pointless. Charlotte had deep ties to powerful men—many who frequented her brothel. The corrupt cops were probably already in her pocket. Reporting her to the wrong person could ruin everything, not just for him, but for his family.

He sank onto the bed, burying his face in his hands. He couldn’t lose Ashley. Another day without her, and he’d lose his mind.

Then, like lightning cutting through storm clouds, a thought struck him. He jumped to his feet, grabbed a shirt, and rushed out of his room, ideas forming fast.

If he could manage to get her out, he’d convince her to run away with him, his mom, and Genevieve. With the Princeton scholarship, he could find a better job abroad and support them all. Why hadn’t he thought of this before?

But then a new worry stopped him mid-step: how would he convince his mom to drop everything—her job, her whole life—and leave the country on such short notice? Especially without telling her about Charlotte? She didn’t even know about Ashley yet.

"I’ll figure it out," he said finally, moving toward the door.

He flung open the front door, still struggling to button his shirt, heart pounding with dread and determination.

He didn’t know how he’d get into Charlotte’s house yet, but he was betting the old fox would be at the brothel. If he had to, he’d break in through Ashley’s window.

But the second he looked up, he froze.

His mother. Her car.

His throat tightened.

Did she have an accident?

"Mom!" he yelled, sprinting toward her.

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