THE BILLIONAIRE STILL WANTS HER!
Chapter 126: It doesn’t make sense...

Chapter 126: It doesn’t make sense...

"It... it doesn’t make any sense," Angel stammered, her voice faltering. She hated how unsteady she sounded, how unsure.

Arthur immediately seized on her hesitation. His expression turned sorrowful, his lips curling into a small, pitiful frown. It was a performance—one designed to push her over the edge.

"Yes, dear," he said, his voice dipping into something almost mournful. "And the worst part? If you think this is bad... just wait until you hear what Tryson did."

He watched, waiting, and then—there it was.

The spark of curiosity flickered in Angel’s eyes, the way her body tensed ever so slightly.

She was hooked.

It was a small victory, but to Arthur, it meant everything.

Mission one: accomplished. Now came the real game—ensuring that by the end of all this, she would despise Tryson with every fiber of her being.

If he could make that happen, then the rest of his plan would fall into place seamlessly.

Because in the end, this wasn’t just about ruining Tryson’s name.

No, Arthur had a far greater prize in mind—control, power, and most importantly, the inheritance that was rightfully his.

But first, he needed her broken.

He needed her to feel betrayed, like nothing more than a pawn in the hands of the very people she had trusted.

Leaning back into his chair, Arthur studied her closely, his smirk widening. He let out a low chuckle, the sound carrying an air of sinister delight.

"Damn," he mused, stretching his arms lazily. "You know, I could use a drink right now. Stories like these? They only get better the deeper we go."

Angel exhaled sharply, clearly growing impatient. Her voice carried a weight of pain and irritation when she finally spoke.

"Just say what Tryson did," she demanded, dragging out her words.

The raw emotion behind them was unmistakable—she was hurt, deeply so, and Arthur could tell she was barely holding it together.

Her throat was tight, her breaths unsteady. It was predictable. It was perfect.

"Well," Arthur began smoothly, watching her every reaction, "as you now know, Tryson is the son of the man you called your father. But what you might not have realized is that he was never meant to be part of the family in the first place."

Angel stiffened, her fingers clenching into fists.

Arthur leaned in slightly, lowering his voice just enough to pull her further into his web.

"Tryson’s supposed father, Amell, couldn’t have children for years. He was desperate, and he was close to his stepbrother—closer than most would think. So, he came up with an arrangement... a twisted little deal with his wife. And the result?" Arthur paused for effect, his gaze flickering over her face to catch her reaction. "Tryson. A child born not out of love, but out of necessity. Three years before you were born."

Angel swallowed hard, her lips parting as she struggled to speak. "So... are you saying Rachel and Samson are also—?"

Arthur chuckled darkly. "Oh no, those two? They’re the real heirs, the true-born Bliss children. But Tryson? He’s the only illegitimate one. And that, my dear Angel, is where everything truly began. You see, the Bliss family didn’t just cast you out of their home for no reason..."

"How did you know about that?" Angel’s voice cut through the air, sharp and laced with shock.

Her eyes widened, the disbelief evident as she stared at Arthur, searching his expression for answers.

But Arthur? He barely reacted. Instead, he offered a lazy shrug, as if her question was nothing more than a trivial detail.

"I had to do my research, obviously," he said nonchalantly. His gaze remained steady, unreadable. "Let’s just say, before I met you, I needed to ensure that the woman who would be part of my... divisions wouldn’t come with any complications."

Angel felt her chest tighten. "So you knew all along," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, "that I was once engaged to Tryson? That I had his child?"

Arthur leaned back, letting out a small chuckle.

"Oh no, no," he corrected smoothly. "Not about the child. That little detail? That’s news to me." He tilted his head slightly, watching her reaction like a predator watching prey.

"But I did know you were once close to Tryson. I mean, it wasn’t exactly a well-guarded secret. I just never had the full story... because, well—" he smirked, gesturing vaguely with his hand, "it’s Tryson we’re talking about. Do you think he’d just let anyone dig up every piece of his past? No, the information I got was selective. But I did know you left the Bliss family a long time ago."

His voice dropped a note lower, his smirk deepening. "And do you know why that happened?"

At those words, a shadow crossed Angel’s face. Her breath hitched, and she instinctively clenched her jaw.

The past—the one she had tried so hard to bury—rushed to the surface like an unrelenting storm.

Her fingers curled into the fabric of the couch, gripping tightly as if it was the only thing anchoring her to reality.

She squeezed her eyes shut, her body tensing as the weight of old wounds settled heavily upon her shoulders.

Arthur watched her carefully, his amusement flickering like a flame in his eyes. He had struck a nerve. Perfect.

"Oh, it still hurts, doesn’t it?" he mused, tilting his head as if he were savoring the moment. "I can only imagine. Especially after you were branded a thief. Cast out like a disgrace. Like a scandal they needed to erase." He clicked his tongue, shaking his head in mock sympathy. "You should consider yourself lucky they didn’t plaster posters all over town, calling you some kind of criminal."

His words dripped with venom, weaving themselves into the very pain she had tried to escape. And Angel? She could feel the walls of her past closing in once more.

"I never thought they could do something like that to me," Angel murmured, her voice laced with disbelief.

She shook her head slowly, as if trying to make sense of a cruel reality she had been blind to all along.

Arthur let out a small chuckle, though there was no real humor in it—just cold amusement.

"Yeah, well... that’s the thing, isn’t it? What could you do?" He leaned back slightly, resting his elbow on the chair’s armrest as he studied her. "You were just a pawn in their game. And when the board shifted? They did what they always do."

His lips curled into a smirk. "They tried to get rid of you. Pushed you out the moment they realized Tryson was the one trying to steal from you instead."

Angel’s head snapped up, her eyes locking onto Arthur’s in raw, stunned disbelief. A deep frown formed on her face as her mind raced to process his words.

"What do you mean?"

Arthur held her gaze for a moment, allowing the weight of his words to settle before he exhaled deeply. Slowly, he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as his expression darkened.

"Let’s just say," he began, his voice lower now, more deliberate, "everything that happened months ago... wasn’t an accident. It was a carefully planned, calculated experience."

Angel remained still, tension stiffening her shoulders.

Arthur continued, his tone steady but laced with something almost sinister.

"The Bliss family knew that if you were to marry their son, you’d give him more power than anyone. Too much power. And we both know that Tryson isn’t even their son—he’s from the Johnson family, not the Bliss bloodline. So tell me..." He arched a brow, tilting his head slightly. "Wouldn’t it make perfect sense for them to ensure Tryson never got his hands on the inheritance?"

Angel swallowed hard, her breath shallow. The pieces were falling into place—pieces she never realized were even part of the puzzle.

"If that’s true," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath, "then why would they want me now?"