The Billionaire He Threw Away Chapter 08

The Billionaire He Threw Away Chapter 08

Saturday morning Moving day

I packed light-because almost nothing in that apartment was truly mine anymore Vanessa had claimed the kitchen, the bedroom, the closet

What remained of my things fit into two suitcases.

Liam watched me from the hallway, arms crossed, brow furrowed. He’d been strange since the gala. Restless. He kept looking at me like he was

trying to solve a puzzle he hadn’t known existed.

“That event last night,” he said as I zipped the second suitcase. “How do you know the Wentworth people?”

“Through work,” I said vaguely.

“Your work at the clinic?” His tone was skeptical. I was a night-shift nurse at a small urgent care center in Brooklyn. It was not the kind of job that

intersected with billionaire philanthropy.

“I’ve been making connections,” I said. It wasn’t a lie.

He stepped closer. “Elise, be straight with me. Are you seeing someone?”

The irony was so sharp I could have cut glass with it.

“You moved your pregnant girlfriend into our apartment,” I said, “and you’re asking me if I’m seeing someone?”

His jaw tightened. “That’s different.”

“How?”

“Because Vanessa is carrying my child. That’s a responsibility. What you’re doing-dressing up, going to galas, coming home at all hours-that’s

a choice.

I looked at him. Really looked. And I realized something that should have been obvious from the start

Liam didn’t want me But he didn’t want anyone else to have me either

I was supposed to stay on the couch. Stay quiet Stay small Stay available-just in case he needed me to cook, or clean, or hold his hand during

a panic attack at 3 a m

I was supposed to be his safety net while Vanessa was his life

“Goodbye, Liam,’ I said.

I picked up my suitcases and walked to the door.

“Where are you going?” he called after me, and for the first time, there was something close to panic in his voice

“Somewhere with a bed,” I said. And I closed the door behind me.

Diane was waiting downstairs in the town car. She took one look at my face and said nothing-just handed me a coffee and directed the driver to

the Upper East Side.

The Wentworth penthouse was on the thirty-eighth floor of a prewar building overlooking Central Park Three bedrooms, a library a terrace with a

view that made the city look like a painting.

I stood in the living room, suitcases at my feet, and felt the silence settle around me like a coat

This was mine. All of it. And no one could take it from me.

My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.

*Ms. Wentworth. This is Sandra Chen. The new Bellworth deal terms are ready. But there’s something you should see first Can you meet me

Monday morning?*

I typed back: *I’ll be there.*

Then another buzz. Liam.

*You forgot your scarf.*

I stared at the message. The same scarf I’d been wearing all winter because I couldn’t afford a new coat. The scarf he’d never once noticed until I

was gone

I didn’t reply.

Instead, I walked to the terrace and looked out at the city-vast, glittering, indifferent-and let the cold air fill my lungs.

Monday came fast.

Sandra met me at her office with a folder and an expression that was equal parts professional and furious

“We did a deeper audit of the Prism Digital deal,” she said. “Richard Hale wasn’t just siphoning licensing rights. He was using Prism as a front to

launder money through Wentworth’s media accounts.”

She opened the folder. Bank statements. Transaction records. A web of transfers that led from Wentworth Industries through Prism Digital to

Richard’s offshore accounts.

Liam signed off on these transactions, Sandra said carefully. “Whether he knew what he was signing is another question

My stomach dropped “You think he was involved?”

“I think, Sandra said slowly, “that Vanessa Price was placed in his life specifically to make sure he signed what Richard needed him to sign

Whether Liam is complicit or just careless-that’s what we need to find out

I thought of Liam at his desk, signing documents at midnight, eyes glazed with exhaustion I thought of Vanessa refilling his coffee, leaning over

his shoulder, pointing at dotted lines.

*Just sign here, babe. It’s just a formality.

“Pull every document Liam signed in the last six months,” I said. “Every single one’