📖 The Story Continues
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Snatched a Billionaire to Be My Husband — Episode 7
Easton’s demand left the room unnaturally still. Fifty thousand dollars stood between Cora’s mother and the care she needed, and he knew it. He was not asking for gratitude or an apology. He wanted the woman he had once promised to love on her knees.
“It’s been a while, Cora Lane.” Mia Thompson stepped fully into view at Easton’s side, her smile bright with old resentment. “How does it feel to be a nobody now?” The question made Cora understand that this humiliation had been waiting years for its opportunity.
“I wouldn’t know,” Cora replied. Her finances might be ruined, but Mia would not define her worth. Cora had lost too much to surrender the only thing no creditor could seize: the knowledge of who she was.
Mia laughed. “The princess has fallen from her tower.” Back in college, she had mocked Cora’s wealth while envying every privilege it brought. Now she regarded the Lane tragedy as proof that the universe had finally corrected an injustice committed against her personally.
Cora turned to Easton. “Mia Thompson is your new girl?” She gave him a slow, unimpressed look. “That’s a few steps down in class, even for you.” The insult wiped the satisfaction from Mia’s face and brought color to Easton’s cheeks.
“Who are you to talk about class now, Cora?” Easton’s mother interjected. “Besides, Mia is a wonderful young lady.” The endorsement told Cora everything. With the Lane fortune gone, the Hansens had rewritten history quickly enough to welcome a woman they once would have dismissed.
Easton shifted beneath Cora’s gaze. “Cora, can we talk in private?” He did not want Mia hearing whatever truth remained between them, nor did he want the family watching while Cora exposed him. His discomfort offered her the first hint of leverage she had felt since arriving.
“Absolutely not.” Mia moved closer to him, claiming her place. “I think my solution is far better.” Her eyes gleamed as she turned back to Cora. “So, are you going to beg me or what?”
The demand was even more degrading than Easton’s. Mia had never loaned Cora money, received the disputed gifts, or shared a life with her. She simply wanted revenge for every college room in which Cora had outshone her without trying.
“I’m not begging you, Mia.” Cora kept her voice level, though thoughts of the hospital tightened around her chest. She would sell everything she owned and work until she collapsed before giving Mia the pleasure of mistaking cruelty for victory.
“Wow. Somebody forgets her place.” Mia’s smile vanished. “You think you’re still an heiress?” Around them, the Hansen family said nothing. Their silence gave Mia permission to continue, and she accepted it eagerly.
“Your daddy committed fraud and offed himself,” Mia sneered. The mention of Cora’s father struck the deepest wound she possessed. “You have nothing now. You are nothing now.”
“Mia!” Easton’s rebuke arrived too late and carried too little force. He had used Cora’s father’s death against her himself, then expected to look principled when another woman did the same. The hypocrisy was almost breathtaking.
“What?” Mia challenged. “It’s true.” She leaned into Easton as though his weak protest had only confirmed her security. Cora studied the pair and saw no affection between them—only vanity, convenience, and a shared appetite for making someone else feel small.
“Well, it’s no mystery why you didn’t have any friends in college, Mia,” Cora said. “You’re a bully.” The truth hit harder than a louder insult. Mia’s expression twisted, but Cora was no longer interested in sparing her feelings.
A memory surfaced, sharp enough to turn the confrontation. Cora looked at Easton. “What was that you said?” She tapped one finger against her chin as though trying to recall the exact phrasing. “Right. You said you would never be with Mia, even if she were the last person on Earth.”
Mia’s head snapped toward him. Easton’s face drained of color, and the family’s smug amusement disappeared. Cora offered him a cool smile. “Well, I guess people change.” The attention that had oppressed Cora all day now settled mercilessly on him.
“I did not say that,” Easton insisted. The denial came too quickly. Cora knew his tells after years together—the rigid jaw, the refusal to hold her gaze. Mia knew them too, judging by the suspicion spreading across her face.
“Just as I thought,” Cora said. “You’re a liar.” The accusation covered more than one cowardly denial. Easton had lied about forever, about loyalty, and about the values he performed whenever wealthier people were watching.
“You little bitch!” Mia lunged, her hand rising toward Cora’s face. Before the blow could land, a powerful voice thundered from behind them. “That’s enough!” Every person in the room froze, and Cora’s blood turned cold as she recognized Byron—the one man who could expose the secret neither she nor Easton knew how to survive.
