His Final Betrayal Was My First Move Chapter 34

His Final Betrayal Was My First Move Chapter 34

On the sixth day, the opportunity came.

The entrance to the underground garage, usually secured like a fortress, had a few seconds of vacancy due to a brief communications failure among the security staff. Griffin rushed in almost by instinct, like a shark smelling blood.

The cold scent of concrete wrapped around him. He hid behind a load-bearing pillar, his heart pounding, his eyes fixed on the VIP elevator.

The elevator doors slid open soundlessly.

Amelia walked out.

She wore a sharply tailored beige trench coat and walked with a steady purpose, her head lowered as she spoke to the assistant beside her. She looked the same as before—elegant, composed—yet something had completely changed. It was a sense of control that radiated from within, unquestionable.

He rushed out and stopped a few steps in front of her.

“Amelia.”

His voice was hoarse, as if rubbed raw by sandpaper.

Amelia’s assistant immediately stepped forward, blocking him, but Amelia just lifted her hand slightly, signaling that there was no need to be alarmed.

Her gaze landed on Griffin, as calm as if she were looking at a stranger. He wore a wrinkled old coat. Several days of stubble made him look haggard and disheveled. The Griffin Whitaker who had once shone in Boston society was gone.

“I was wrong, Amelia.” His voice trembled. “Everything was my fault. I shouldn’t have let you down again and again. I shouldn’t have believed Daphne’s lies. It was her. She was manipulating me, exploiting my weaknesses…”

Like a drowning man, he was desperate to grab the last piece of driftwood, to push all the blame onto someone else.

“Please, give me one more chance, Amelia. Let’s start over. I’ll make up for everything.”

Amelia listened quietly, not a ripple of emotion on her face.

Looking at the man in front of her delivering a standard prodigal-son confession, she only felt a wave of nausea.

If he hadn’t lost everything, been kicked off the board, had his trust fund frozen, and been abandoned by his entire circle, he would never be standing here. At his core, he wanted only a perfect, obedient wife to love him unconditionally and maintain his dignity, but he had never thought to give her equal respect.

He didn’t miss her.

He missed the convenience and glory she represented.

Once she understood this, the final weight in her heart lifted. The relationship that had tormented her for years had, from beginning to end, been a complete fraud.

They were the ones without bottom lines. They were the ones who didn’t understand the value of sincerity.

“Griffin,” she finally said, her voice clear and cold, echoing faintly in the empty garage. “What you miss isn’t me. It’s the pedestal I held up for you.”

He jolted and looked at her in disbelief.

“Now the pedestal is gone.” There was no hatred in Amelia’s eyes, only a condescending, complete indifference. “And only now do you remember me. That is pitiful, but it has nothing to do with me.”

After that, she didn’t look at him again. She walked straight to her car. Her assistant opened the door, and she got in and started the engine.

With a smooth roar, the black sedan turned cleanly and drove toward the light at the exit, leaving the man frozen in the darkness behind her.

In the top-floor office, Julian watched the car’s taillights vanish on the security monitor and smiled as he turned a pen in his hand.

He knew Amelia was free.

This “chance encounter” had been the final therapy session he had arranged for her. She needed to close this door with her own hands, not for Griffin’s release, but for her own, so she could finally, completely, move on.

The time had come.