Snatched a Billionaire to Be My Husband — Episode 15
Malcolm turned his phone so they could see the headline. A grainy photograph showed Byron guiding Cora into his car after the party, his hand possessive at her waist. A second captured her leaving his residence the next morning. The caption called her a disgraced heiress and him the billionaire who had betrayed his nephew.
Cora’s stomach dropped. The night she had chosen as an act of freedom had become Malcolm’s weapon. Online speculation already accused her of seducing Byron for money, destroying her engagement, and using Evelyn’s illness to gain access to Hansen accounts. Thousands of strangers were rewriting her grief into ambition before she had a chance to speak.
Byron barely glanced at the photographs. “A board suspension requires a formal vote.” Malcolm lifted his drink. “Seven directors have signed. They believe your judgment is compromised, especially after you transferred corporate funds to Cora’s hospital account.”
“You made that transfer,” Cora said. Malcolm smiled. “The authorization was issued under Hansen Holdings while Byron was chief executive. The public rarely cares which signature appears beneath a scandal.” He had built the payment as a trap from the beginning.
Mia moved away from the windows. “You said this would only get Cora out of our lives.” Fear had replaced her triumph. Malcolm looked at her with contempt. “And you believed attacking a recovering woman was part of a romantic dispute. That makes you useful, not innocent.”
The words confirmed enough for Byron’s hidden recorder, but Malcolm noticed the tiny rise beneath Cora’s collar. He crossed the room and tore the microphone free before Byron could stop him. “Did you think I invited you here without disabling the suite’s transmissions?”
Cora’s phone showed no signal. The timed release depended on a connection that no longer existed. Malcolm held out his hand. “Give me the device containing the files, and I may allow your mother to complete her rehabilitation in peace.”
Byron stepped in front of Cora. “Threaten her again, and the board will be the least of your problems.” Malcolm laughed. “Without Hansen Holdings, what are you? A man with expensive suits and a weakness everyone can see.” Cora understood that Malcolm meant her, and the realization was frightening for reasons that had nothing to do with the threat.
Cora realized Malcolm wanted Byron angry. Violence inside the suite would validate every claim about compromised judgment. She touched Byron’s arm. “He’s already lost,” she said, though she did not yet know how to make it true.
The suite door opened behind them. Easton entered with two hotel security officers, holding the black ledger. Mia gasped. While Malcolm focused on the meeting, Easton had searched the adjoining room using a key card obtained from the front desk.
“You told me to stay downstairs,” Easton said to Byron, then looked at his father. “But I’m finished doing everything this family tells me.” It was the first honorable choice Cora had seen him make since the Lane collapse.
Malcolm lunged for the ledger. Hotel security restrained him as Byron announced that the room contained evidence of extortion and a threat against a hospital patient. The signal blocker was disconnected, and Cora’s phone immediately began sending the scheduled files. Each successful transmission removed another piece of Malcolm’s power to bury the truth.
Sirens sounded below. Byron’s investigator had alerted police when the transmission failed, following a contingency plan he had not burdened Cora with during the elevator ride. Malcolm’s certainty cracked as officers entered the suite and took possession of the ledger.
Mia began crying, insisting she had never intended to hurt Evelyn. Easton looked at her with devastated disgust. Cora felt no satisfaction. Mia’s cruelty had made her easy to manipulate, but Malcolm alone had transformed spite into something lethal.
Outside the suite, reporters already crowded the hotel lobby. Malcolm’s leak had spread too quickly to contain. Byron’s board suspension remained in force, and every camera in Los Angeles seemed ready to demand whether he had slept with his nephew’s ex-fiancée. The truth inside the ledger would take days to verify; scandal required only a photograph and a cruel caption.
“Use the private exit,” Byron told Cora. “My team will take you to your mother.” She understood what he intended: he would face the scandal alone and deny nothing that might redirect blame toward her. Once again, he was prepared to solve the problem by removing her choice.
“No.” Cora took his hand. “Malcolm built his story around secrecy and shame. Running will make every lie look true.” Byron searched her face. “You don’t owe me your reputation.”
“I’m not doing this for you.” She glanced at the recovered ledger being carried toward the elevator. “I’m reclaiming mine.” Then she walked with him into the lobby, where flashes exploded and shouted questions crashed over them.
A reporter thrust a microphone toward Cora. “Did you seduce Byron Hansen for fifty thousand dollars?” Another asked whether Byron had stolen his nephew’s fiancée. Cora waited until the noise quieted enough for her answer to be heard.
“Mr. Hansen didn’t steal me from anyone,” she said. “Easton ended our engagement before Byron and I became involved.” The truth silenced the nearest reporters, but it could not explain why she now stood holding Byron’s hand. Cora looked up at the billionaire who had risked his company to protect her and made the only move bold enough to seize control of the story. “And since you’re all so interested in our relationship, you should know that Byron Hansen is going to be my husband.”
