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One Night With The Unstable Billionaire

Chapter 5 

Word Count: 797    |    Released on: 30/04/2026

dead weight, sobbing and hyperventilating as they dragged her out of the

od stained the pri

multi-tiered metal medical box. He sl

y. She guided her son behind the large leather sofa, shielding his

in front of the coffee table. She popp

la through her tears, her eyes burning with pure hatred. "Don

eyes scanned the rows

on medical alcohol, and right next to it, a bottle of h

to face Blair, her expression twisted

to hear. "If I don't disinfect this thoroughly right now, you'll get sepsis.

low. Blair's cursing stopped instantly. P

ily was tied to her beauty and her ability to mar

rile cotton ball and soaked it heavily in the alcohol, then

e cotton. He opened his mouth to say something, bu

out, grabbing Blair's shoulder and pinn

ipping cotton ball and slammed it directly i

l and chemicals bit straight

y off the sofa like she had been struck by lightning

ou're killing me!" B

e. "Hold still, Blair! Disinfecting always

arder, grinding the rough cotton ball deep

down Blair's neck. Blair's eyes rolled back in

wide with manufactured panic. "Hold her still! The doctor said any sudden movement during deep sterilization could cause permanent nerve damage! Do you want her face ruined forever because you let go?!" The g

om turned their faces away, their s

ng inferno of rage in Arla's che

ll onto the table and picked up

rrified eyes. She shook her head frantically, tea

bringing her lips right next to Blair's ea

innocent act. It was c

ight again," Arla whispered, "the intruder's kni

e pure, unfiltered murder in Arla's eyes. A freezing chill sh

one this o

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One Night With The Unstable Billionaire
One Night With The Unstable Billionaire
“Arla was supposed to marry Clinton Freeman, the perfect fiancé who had promised to love her and protect her five-year-old son. But instead, the cold steel of a dagger pierced her chest. As she collapsed onto the freezing basement floor, she watched her adoptive sister Blair laugh. "Look at her," Blair sneered, kicking her son's small, blue, lifeless body. Clinton stood there, calmly wiping the bloody blade on a pristine handkerchief. In her dying moments, the horrifying truth became clear. Her fiancé and her adoptive family had been plotting all along to steal her massive trust fund. To break her, they had secretly tortured her child. Clinton had watched Blair pierce the little boy's arms with sewing needles, rewarding him with candy to keep him silent. Arla's lungs burned with the taste of copper and ash. She couldn't understand why the family she trusted could be so monstrous, or why they had to brutally murder an innocent child just for money. The darkness swallowed her whole, drowning her in suffocating hatred and absolute despair. Then, she gasped for air. The concrete floor was gone, replaced by the silk sheets of a hotel penthouse suite. Arla had been reborn to the exact night six years ago-the very day Blair first dragged her son into the dark attic. This time, she picked up a solid silver letter opener, ready to burn them all to the ground.”