THE BILLIONAIRE STILL WANTS HER!
Chapter 89: The video...

Chapter 89: The video...

Sophia hesitated as the phone was handed to her, her fingers trembling slightly before she finally took it.

Her gaze flickered between the screen and the person who had given it to her, uncertainty clouding her expression.

As soon as her eyes landed on the paused video displaying Arthur’s face, a storm of emotions surged within her. With a deep breath, she pressed play, bracing herself for whatever revelation awaited her.

Seconds stretched into eternity as she watched, her heart pounding with every passing frame.

The more she saw, the heavier the weight in her chest became, sinking deeper and deeper like an anchor dragging her down.

Regret washed over her in waves—regret for ever crossing paths with a man like him, regret for the choices she had made, regret for the irreversible consequences that had now come full circle.

If only she could turn back time, rewrite history, undo every mistake she had ever made.

But she couldn’t. The past was set in stone, and all she could do now was try to fix the wreckage left in its wake.

Determined, she tightened her grip on the phone, a plan forming in her mind.

If there was even the slightest chance to set things right, she had to take it.

Just as she was about to scroll through the call log, searching for the one number that could change everything, a sharp gasp escaped her lips.

Before she could react, a rough hand seized the phone from her grasp.

She jerked instinctively, her body tensing as the phone was snatched away.

For a fleeting moment, desperation clawed at her—she needed that phone. It was the only possible way she could think of to escape, her only lifeline.

But as quickly as the thought crossed her mind, reality sank in.

The man standing before her was a formidable presence, one she knew she couldn’t physically challenge.

Fighting him would be futile. So instead, she forced herself to stay still, standing her ground like a disciplined child obeying unspoken rules.

"Ma’am, Mr. Arthur said this should be delivered to you," the man said, his voice devoid of emotion as he extended a paper bag toward her.

Sophia stared at it, her stomach twisting with unease.

She didn’t want to take anything from Arthur—not after everything.

If he had managed to orchestrate getting her locked in this room, then whatever was inside that bag was likely another move in his twisted game.

She didn’t trust him. She didn’t trust any of this.

The man seemed to pick up on her hesitation, watching her closely for a moment. When it became clear she wasn’t going to accept the bag, he exhaled sharply, then turned toward the couch.

Without another word, he placed the paper bag down, the soft rustling of the meal inside filling the silent room.

Sophia’s eyes followed him, her mind racing. She needed to get out.

But how? She felt utterly powerless, trapped in a situation she had no control over.

As the man moved toward the door, she held her breath, watching intently.

The second he pulled it open and stepped outside, she sprang forward, her heart hammering against her ribs. Her fingers fumbled for the handle, yanking at it with all her strength—

Click.

The door locked before she even had the chance.

She froze, her breath catching in her throat.

She was trapped. Again.

Sophia gritted her teeth, frustration and desperation twisting inside her like a tightening vice. Her hands clenched into fists, nails digging into her palms as she pounded on the door with everything she had.

"Open the door!" she cried, her voice raw with urgency.

She knocked again and again, her fists slamming against the solid wood, hoping—praying—that someone, anyone, would hear her.

But the silence on the other side was deafening.

Eventually, her strength waned, her frantic knocks slowing before finally ceasing altogether. Her breath came in uneven gasps as she slumped against the door, her back pressed to the cold surface.

Defeat settled over her like a heavy weight, pressing down on her chest as she tilted her head back, staring at the ceiling with vacant eyes.

And then, she exhaled—a long, trembling breath.

What had she done?

*

Arthur’s fingers curled tightly around the cigarette, the dim embers glowing as he brought it to his lips.

He inhaled deeply, letting the smoke fill his lungs before exhaling in slow, ghostly tendrils that danced in the cold air.

For a moment, he simply stood there, playing with the wisps of smoke as if stalling—buying himself just a little more time before facing the reality before him.

His gaze lowered, settling on the tombstone in front of him.

The name etched into the stone belonged to someone he had known for years—his former secretary.

His expression wavered between indifference and something far more unreadable, a flicker of emotion passing through his usually cold demeanor.

"Sir, she’s here," a deep voice interrupted the silence.

One of Arthur’s men approached, his presence steady but cautious.

Arthur didn’t bother to look up. His eyes remained locked on the tombstone as if waiting for it to speak back.

"Bring her in," he murmured, his voice quiet but laced with authority.

The heavyset man gave a brief nod, a small bow of respect before turning on his heel and walking away, disappearing into the shadows of the cemetery.

They stood in a secluded part of the burial ground, a place hidden from prying eyes—a place Arthur had chosen for a reason.

It was here, among the dead, that he would meet someone who held the power to give him exactly what he wanted.

At least, that was what he needed—for now.

Until the time came when he could finally deal with her, when he could erase the threat she posed and no longer have to fear her shadow lurking in the corners of his world.

The sound of clicking heels echoed through the dimly lit cemetery house as a woman, seemingly in her early thirties, stepped forward.

Her attire was casual, yet there was something about her presence that made her stand out—something calculated, something dangerous.

She moved with the ease of someone who had nothing to fear, her sharp eyes scanning the space as if Arthur wasn’t even there.

Without acknowledging him, she stopped beside him, her gaze falling upon the very tombstone Arthur had been staring at.

"I trust you have the amount in full," she said coolly, her voice slicing through the silence like a blade.

For a moment, there was nothing but quiet.

Then, as if on cue, the man standing behind them stepped forward, his movements precise and deliberate.

Without a word, he extended a brown envelope between the two of them.

A smirk flickered across the woman’s lips.

She lifted a hand, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear with an air of feigned nonchalance, acting as if the money didn’t interest her in the slightest.

And yet, without hesitation, she reached out and took the envelope.

As her fingers curled around it, a small, knowing smile played on her lips. She turned to Arthur, her gaze sharp, almost amused.

"You really are doing a lot, Mr. Arthur," she mused, her voice laced with amusement. "Just like always, the money is complete."

With a teasing tone and a lingering smirk, she pivoted gracefully on her heel, stepping away as if she had already won whatever unspoken game they were playing.