Billion-Dollar Betrayal

My brother was expelled from the family after repeatedly scheming against me for the inheritance. Yet my fiancée secretly handed him the project proposal worth billions.

Alexander Sullivan posted triumphantly on social media, holding the documents.

"Even when I have nothing, someone will willingly offer me everything."

Isabella Roscente commented openly beneath it.

"If you wanted the moon itself, I'd move heaven and earth to get it for you."

I dialed her number, my brow furrowed.

"You have thirty minutes to retrieve that proposal."

She responded with impatient irritation.

"Ethan Sullivan, must you be so petty? It's merely a billion dollars."

I ended the call, ignoring her accusations.

Thirty minutes later, my secretary informed me.

"Isabella not only kept the proposal but embezzled ten billion dollars from the company."

Enough was enough.

I pressed enter, sending the command.

In an instant, every Roscente enterprise ground to a halt.

----

The stock price of Roscente Group plummeted.

Billions in assets evaporated every minute.

Isabella Roscente finally remembered me.

She stormed into the CEO's office reeking of alcohol.

Her stilettos tapped an erratic rhythm against the floor.

"Ethan Sullivan, you're ruthless!"

I lifted the porcelain teacup.

Through the curling steam, I met her gaze.

"I said I'd only wait half an hour."

She grabbed my tie violently.

Her nails nearly tore through the fabric.

"Alexander is your own brother!"

"How can you be so heartless?"

I brushed her hand away.

Documents scattered across the floor.

"Tampering with a billion-dollar project."

"Diverting funds illegally."

"Is this how you manage Roscente Group?"

She sneered.

"Spent a few years abroad and now you think you're untouchable?"

"You don't even understand fraternal respect!"

I stood up.

My shadow loomed over her.

"Fraternal? He poisoned me without a second thought."

"Getting disowned was his own doing."

Her tone suddenly softened.

"Ethan, I just felt sorry for him..."

"That money means nothing to you..."

I unlocked my phone.

A photo of her and Alexander toasting on a yacht deck appeared.

"Pity, is it?"

She swiped to the next image—a surveillance still of a hotel hallway.

"Just friends?"

Her face drained of color.

"You've been spying on me?"

"How despicable!"