Snatched a Billionaire to Be My Husband – Episode 2

📖 The Story Continues

Snatched a Billionaire to Be My Husband — Episode 2

Byron’s hand remained closed around Cora’s wrist as the unfinished words hung between them. The ballroom glittered beyond his shoulder, full of people who would happily turn one reckless moment into tomorrow’s scandal, yet Cora could no longer make herself care. Easton had stripped away her last reason to behave like the obedient future Mrs. Hansen.

Byron drew her into a quieter corridor beyond the party, shielding them from curious eyes without releasing her. His composure had returned, but tension sharpened every line of his face. “What are you trying to do, Cora?” he asked. The use of her first name sounded far more intimate than it should have.

She wanted to give him a clever answer, something light enough to disguise how close she was to breaking. Instead, the pain she had swallowed all evening rose into her throat. Byron saw too much, and his calm scrutiny made pretending impossible. It angered her that a near stranger could read what her fiancé had chosen to ignore.

“Is this about Easton?” Byron asked. His voice carried no sympathy for his nephew, only a demand for honesty. Cora pulled free at last, but the warmth of his hand lingered against her skin. Of course it was about Easton. Tonight, nearly every wound inside her bore his name.

“Do you know what he did?” she demanded. “He dumped me when I needed him most.” Her father was dead, her mother lay unconscious, and the Lane family was drowning in debt and disgrace. Easton had known all of it, yet he had chosen this moment to sever their engagement and protect himself.

Her laugh was brittle as she continued. “Then he had the audacity to ask for the ring back.” She could still feel the empty weight on her finger. The diamond had supposedly represented a lifetime, but Easton had reclaimed it as casually as one might retrieve a coat after dinner.

“Some nephew you have, Mr. Hansen.” Cora meant the title to restore distance, but Byron’s eyes darkened instead. He did not defend Easton, nor did he offer an empty apology for another man’s behavior. That silence told her he understood exactly how cruel his nephew’s actions had been.

Byron moved one step closer, and the corridor seemed to narrow around the force of his presence. “So this is about revenge?” he asked. There was no disgust in his tone, only a warning edged with something more difficult to name. He knew what Cora was inviting, and he was giving her a chance to deny it.

She pictured Easton’s face if he discovered that the woman he had discarded had chosen his powerful, unattainable uncle. The thought was shameful and intoxicating. Yet revenge was not the whole truth. Byron’s attention made her feel visible again—not pitied as a ruined heiress, but desired as a woman still capable of making her own choices.

“So what if it is?” Cora challenged. Her heart pounded hard enough to hurt, but she refused to lower her eyes. If Byron rejected her, she would survive that humiliation too. She had survived worse in the past three weeks than most people endured in a lifetime.

His gaze traveled slowly over her face, searching for uncertainty. “Revenge is a dangerous game, Miss Lane.” The formal address was a final barrier between them, yet his voice had grown rougher. He was not unaffected, no matter how carefully he tried to appear in control.

Cora had spent her entire life following rules written by other people. She had been the perfect daughter, the loyal fiancée, and the gracious heiress who never caused a scene. None of that obedience had saved her father, awakened her mother, or kept Easton from leaving when the Lane name lost its value.

“Are you afraid, Mr. Hansen?” she asked. Byron’s jaw tightened, and the sight sent a flash of satisfaction through her. Men like him were never accused of fear. He negotiated fortunes, commanded boardrooms, and intimidated everyone around him without raising his voice.

“Because I’m not.” It was only partly true. Cora was terrified—of the consequences, of tomorrow, and of the desire she could no longer dismiss as mere vengeance. But fear had governed every hour since her family’s collapse. For one night, she wanted to be the person who chose the danger instead of waiting for it to choose her.

She placed her palm against Byron’s chest. Beneath the fine fabric of his suit, his heartbeat was steady, though his breath changed at her touch. He could have stepped away. Instead, he stood perfectly still, watching her with the focus of a predator deciding whether restraint was still possible.

“I want this,” Cora said. The declaration surprised her with its certainty. She wanted the heat between them, the escape from grief, and the forbidden thrill of reaching for the one man Easton could never rival. For once, she wanted something that belonged entirely to her.

Her fingers curled into Byron’s lapel as she repeated, more softly, “I want this.” The vengeance was still there, sharp and ugly beneath her desire, but Byron was no passive weapon. He was a man who understood the risk better than she did—and who could destroy every defense she had left.

The last trace of distance vanished from his expression. Byron lifted one hand to her face, his thumb brushing her cheek with unexpected gentleness. That tenderness nearly undid her. She had prepared herself for hunger, not for the terrible relief of being touched as though she were precious rather than broken.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he murmured. His words warmed her lips, offering one final opportunity to turn away before the scandal began. Cora answered by pulling him closer, choosing the dangerous game with open eyes.

Then Byron kissed her, and the controlled man the entire city feared finally stopped holding back. Every sensible thought vanished beneath the force of it. By the time he swept her away from the party, Cora knew she had crossed a line that would place her at the center of the Hansen family’s most explosive betrayal.