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Home / Urban / THE BILLIONAIRE THEY NEVER SAW COMING / CHAPTER 82
CHAPTER 82
Author: Arthea Edelweis
last update2025-04-15 16:38:34

Thunder cracked like a whip as the skies over Solano tore open above them. Clouds swirled, unnatural and thick with red lightning. The earth trembled beneath their feet as the two figures stood face to face—Javier Everhart, calm as stone, and the man who claimed to be his father, a living relic from an era of forgotten alchemy.

“You have her eyes,” the man said, voice low, almost sorrowful. “Your mother’s.”

Javier didn’t flinch. “You remember her now? After you abandoned her… and me?”

“I never abandoned anything. I was sealed,” the man corrected. “By those who feared what I could become. What we could become.”

“You became a monster,” Javier said coldly. “They weren’t wrong.”

Silence settled between them. But it wasn’t the silence of peace—it was the silence before a storm.

“You still don’t understand the truth,” the man said. “You are the last of our line. The only one who carries the perfected blood. I came back not to fight you, Javier, but to claim you.”

Javier’s expression didn’t
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  • SEASON 2 : CHAPTER 300

    Marcus narrowed his eyes. “You never change, huh? Still acting like you’re above it all. Let me guess—you think we’re the joke?”Javier Everhart didn’t flinch. He simply tilted his head, fingers loosely wrapped around the stem of a half-empty water glass. His white t-shirt clung softly to his frame, worn but clean. Sneakers tucked beneath his chair. He looked entirely out of place in the room lined with velvet chairs and waiters in tuxedos, but he didn’t seem to notice.“I don’t think you’re a joke,” Javier said mildly. “You’re all exactly how I remember.”Marcus let out a bark of laughter and clapped Dean’s shoulder. “Did you hear that? I think this guy’s got selective memory. Or maybe poverty rots the brain.”“Maybe he hit his head on a ceiling fan in his box apartment,” Dean added.More laughter erupted around the table. Glasses clinked. Steak knives carved into wagyu, and wine bottles passed freely. Javier sat among them like a stranger dropped into a masquerade. No one cared to o

  • SEASON 2 : CHAPTER 299

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  • CHAPTER 298

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  • CHAPTER 297

    Two Days Later – Tuscany, Italy. Lang Estate Masquerade Ball.The Lang estate sat atop the hills like a crown of marble and glass. From afar, it looked serene—vineyards stretching toward the horizon under a bleeding sunset, violins echoing from the grand hall, and gold-plated masks dancing under crystal chandeliers.Javier stood at the edge of the ballroom terrace, dressed in sharp black, his mask plain. He watched as the elite of Europe sipped wine and whispered secrets, unaware that the next explosion had already begun ticking.“Visual on Veronique,” Amara said through the earpiece. “North side of the ballroom. Red gown. Phoenix mask.”“Copy that.” He set his glass down.He passed guests laughing behind feathered masks—countesses, oligarchs, pharma tycoons. A man brushed his shoulder and muttered, “Watch where you walk, servant.”Javier didn’t even blink.They still thought he was no one.That was always their mistake.Veronique Lang stood beside a hedge of roses, holding court. Her

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  • CHAPTER 295

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