Hell Hath no fury like a billionaire's Ex-Chapter 73: Into The Lion’s Den

Sophie’s POV

The security guard gave my vandalized car a curious once-over as I punched in the gate code to Liam’s mansion. My hands trembled slightly, but I forced them steady. I couldn’t afford to show weakness now—not with what I was about to do.

The mansion loomed before me, all imposing columns and pristine landscaping. This place had always represented everything I’d wanted: wealth, power, luxury. Now it just looked like a beautiful prison.

I parked in the circular driveway and took a deep breath, checking that the recording app on my phone was ready to activate with a single touch. The weight of my mother’s revelation still pressed on me—my father alive, with Diane—but I pushed it aside. One impossible situation at a time.

Liam was waiting for me in the living room when I entered, a tumbler of whiskey clutched in his hand. His hair was disheveled, his eyes bloodshot. A purple bruise bloomed across his cheekbone, and he winced when he shifted on the couch. He looked nothing like the polished businessman he pretended to be.

"Finally," he muttered, gesturing for me to join him.

I crossed the room slowly, studying his appearance. "What happened to you?"

Liam’s hand instinctively went to his side. "Slipped in the shower. Cracked a rib, bruised my face."

"I’m sorry to hear that," I said, fighting to keep the skepticism from my voice. This was clearly no bathroom accident. Someone had beaten him, and badly. I felt a flicker of satisfaction at the thought, quickly followed by shame at my own pettiness. That wasn’t why I was here.

He stood with a grimace, limping toward the bar to pour me a glass. "I need you to talk some sense into your sister."

I accepted the drink but didn’t take a sip. My mind needed to stay sharp. "What exactly do you want me to say to her?"

"Tell her to drop this vendetta," he said, pacing the room like a caged animal. "Tell her if she backs down now, I’ll be generous in the settlement. Remind her that going against me will only end badly for her."

My finger hovered over my phone in my pocket. "Is that a threat?" I asked quietly.

Liam stopped pacing and looked at me, his eyes narrowing to dangerous slits. "It’s a reality check. You know what I’m capable of, Sophie."

I felt sick, but forced myself to hold his gaze. "You mentioned... getting rid of her. What did you mean by that?"

He waved his hand dismissively. "Don’t get squeamish on me now. You’re in this too deep to play innocent."

"I’m not playing anything," I said, carefully setting my untouched drink down on a side table. "I just want to understand what we’re dealing with."

Liam drained his glass and slammed it down on the bar. "What we’re dealing with is your sister trying to take everything from me! My company, my reputation, my freedom!"

"Because of what we did to her," I reminded him softly.

His eyes flashed dangerously. "Don’t start with the guilt now, Sophie. It’s a little late for that."

He was right, of course. It was too late for guilt. But it wasn’t too late for action.

I moved closer to him, slipping my phone from my pocket with my finger hovering over the record button. "You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just... scared. What if she doesn’t back down?"

Liam’s face darkened. "Then I’ll make sure she regrets it. I’ve got people who can take care of problems like this. Make them look like accidents."

My heart pounded so loudly I was sure he could hear it. I pressed record. "Like at the farmers market? Was that supposed to be an accident?"

A cold smile twisted his lips. "Would have been, if that lawyer friend of hers hadn’t pulled her out of the way. Perfect opportunity, wasted."

I felt bile rise in my throat but forced it down. "And now?"

"Now I need to be more careful," he said, refilling his glass. "But there are other ways. Ways that can’t be traced back to me."

I nodded, as if I understood, as if I was still the same selfish woman who had betrayed her sister for this monster.

"So what’s your plan?" I asked, my voice steadier than I felt. "To convince Diane to drop everything?"

Liam’s eyes narrowed slightly. "You said you had a way to make her back down. What is it?"

I hadn’t actually had a plan when I said that, but inspiration struck in that moment. "I’m going to approach her, feigning remorse," I said, watching Liam’s expression carefully. "Once she accepts my apology—and she will, because deep down she still loves me—I’ll be her confidante again. I’ll find out her next moves before she makes them and report back to you. You’ll always be one step ahead."

Liam studied me for a long moment, then his lips curved into an approving smile. "A mole," he said, nodding slowly. "That could work. Diane always was too trusting."

The contempt in his voice made my skin crawl, but I forced a smile. "Exactly. She won’t suspect a thing." ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

He moved closer, his hand coming up to stroke my cheek. "You’ve always been the smarter sister," he murmured, his breath hot and whiskey-sour against my face. "That’s why I chose you."

As his lips met mine, I thought of the recording on my phone, of Diane and her babies, of the irreparable damage I’d done to the most important relationship in my life. I wouldn’t be able to fix everything. Some bridges, once burned, could never be rebuilt.

But I could do this. I could protect my sister from the monster I’d helped create.

When Liam finally pulled away, I suggested staying the night. "We should celebrate our plan," I said with a smile I hoped looked genuine. "Let me cook dinner for us."

He agreed, clearly pleased with how things were going. As evening settled over the mansion, I moved around his kitchen, the weight of what I was planning pressing down on me. I knew Liam was smart, suspicious by nature. I couldn’t simply slip sleeping pills into his food—he’d notice. He’d insist on switching plates.

So I drugged my own portion instead.

When dinner was ready, I brought the plates to the dining room. Liam’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the food. "This looks... good," he said cautiously.

"Try it," I encouraged, taking a bite from my own plate.

Just as I’d predicted, he suddenly said, "Actually, I think I’d prefer what you’re having. Let’s switch."

I feigned annoyance but handed over my plate, accepting his with a small frown. "If you insist," I said, watching as he began to eat the drugged food.

Halfway through the meal, Liam’s eyelids began to droop. "I’m feeling... tired," he muttered, rubbing his eyes. "Must be the medication for my ribs."

"Why don’t you head up to bed?" I suggested gently. "I’ll clean up down here."

He nodded sluggishly. "Join me soon," he said, struggling to his feet. "Don’t be long."

"I won’t," I promised, watching as he made his unsteady way upstairs.

I waited fifteen minutes, heart hammering against my ribs, before I set my plan in motion. First, I located the security camera monitors in Liam’s study. As I already knew, he had cameras throughout the house. Carefully, I adjusted several of them, changing their angles just enough that they wouldn’t capture my activities.

Then I began my search.

The living room yielded nothing—just expensive art and empty crystal decanters. The study was more promising, but after twenty minutes of carefully rifling through papers and checking drawers, I’d found nothing incriminating.

Then I remembered the library—the place where Liam kept his books, the ones I’d sometimes borrow during our affair. It seemed like a lifetime ago now, curling up on his couch with one of his leather-bound first editions while he worked.

The library was upstairs, not far from the master bedroom. I crept past the half-open door to Liam’s room, hearing his heavy, drug-induced breathing from within. Safe, for now.

The library was dark and still, moonlight filtering through the tall windows to cast long shadows across the floor. I turned on my phone’s flashlight, keeping the beam low as I began my search. The shelves were filled with impressive-looking books, many of them clearly for show—their spines uncracked, their pages pristine.

I moved methodically, checking behind books, feeling for hidden switches or compartments in the shelves. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure it would wake Liam even from his drugged sleep.

As I stretched to reach a higher shelf, I lost my balance, stumbling backward. My hand shot out to steady myself against the bookcase, and I heard a soft click. A section of the shelving slid aside, revealing a wall safe.

My breath caught in my throat. This had to be it—the place where Liam would keep his most damning secrets.

I stared at the safe’s keypad, my mind racing. What would the combination be? I tried Liam’s birthday—nothing. His lucky number—nothing. The date he founded his company—still nothing.

Frustration building, I stepped back, surveying the room. If there wasn’t a combination, there must be a key. But where would Liam hide something so important?

My eyes fell on the row of books on his desk—his favorites, the ones he’d actually read. Moving quickly, I began to flip through them, checking between pages, feeling along the bindings.

On the tenth book—a well-worn copy of "The Art of War"—I found it. A small key, perfectly tucked into a hollow carved into the pages.

My hands trembled as I inserted the key into the safe’s lock. Would it work? And if it did, would I find what I needed?

The lock turned with a satisfying click, and the safe door swung open.

Inside were stacks of documents, neatly organized and labeled. I pulled them out one by one, scanning by the light of my phone. Offshore accounts. Money siphoned from the company. Records of illegal dealings and bribes. And most damning of all, the deed to where Synergy sphere stood and this very mansion—the one he and Diane had bought together, which he’d somehow transferred solely to his name.

As I leafed through the papers, something fluttered to the floor—a photograph of a young woman, beautiful, about Diane’s age, smiling brightly at the camera. I examined it briefly, then set it aside. Another of Liam’s victims, perhaps, but not relevant to my current mission.

Working quickly, I gathered the most incriminating documents. I pulled out a small nail clipper from my purse and carefully tore part of the inner lining of my bag, creating a hidden compartment where I tucked the papers. If Liam decided to search my bag before I left, a cursory check wouldn’t reveal anything.

After replacing the remaining documents and locking the safe, I reset the cameras to their original positions and made my way back to the bedroom. Liam was still deep in drugged sleep, his breathing heavy and rhythmic.

I slipped into bed beside him, waving my hand in front of his face to check his state. No response. Only then did I allow my rigid muscles to relax slightly. I lay my head on Liam’s chest, feeling his heart beat beneath my ear.

He groaned softly, placing a sleepy kiss on my hair before drifting deeper into unconsciousness. I took a long, shuddering breath. I wouldn’t sleep—not really—but I needed to rest, to be alert for the morning. One wrong move, one suspicious glance from Liam, and all of this would be for nothing.

Dawn brought pale light streaming through the curtains. I eased myself from the bed, moving to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Act normal, I reminded myself. Don’t give him any reason to suspect.

As we sat eating, my phone beeped with a text. My mother: "Sophie hun I hope you are ok. Please reply me if you’re safe immediately or I’d inform the police."

I smiled at Liam. "Work message," I said lightly, quickly typing back: "Mom I’m fine I’d call as soon as I leave here." I deleted the message thread immediately after sending, setting my phone aside as I continued eating.

After breakfast, I offered to massage Liam’s injured ribs and help him take his pain medication. My hands were gentle as they moved over his bruised torso, but inside I was seething with disgust—at him, at myself, at what we’d become.

"I should go," I said finally, gathering my things. "If I’m going to make Diane back down, I need to start now."

He nodded, clearly pleased with my supposed plan. "Keep me updated. And Sophie?" His eyes hardened. "Don’t disappoint me. You don’t want to find out what happens to people who cross me."

The threat hung in the air between us, but I wasn’t afraid anymore. I was already dead to the person who mattered most. What more could I lose?

"I won’t disappoint you," I promised, knowing it was the last lie I would tell him.

He moved close and placed a soft kiss on my forehead as we said our goodbyes.

My heart pounded like I had just escaped from a lion’s den as I walked to my car. The precious documents felt like they were burning a hole in my bag, but I forced myself to move normally, smile at the security guard, drive calmly through the gates.

Only when I was several blocks away did I pull over, hands shaking so badly I could barely operate my phone. I dialed Diane’s number, but there was no answer. I tried three times before giving up.

Finally, I called my mother. "We need to meet," I said without preamble. "I have evidence that will help Diane. It’s important."

I sent her the address of a quiet café across town, then sat back against the seat, exhaustion washing over me in waves. What I’d done couldn’t erase my betrayal. It couldn’t make Diane forgive me or undo the pain I’d caused.

But for the first time in months, I’d done the right thing. And maybe, just maybe, that was a start.