THE SECRET BILLIONAIRE

Chapter 8

The ballroom fell under Hush like they had seen a ghost walk inside the hall.

Elira's gaze locked on Carl, her expression shifting between surprise and confusion like she wasn't expecting to see him.. maybe see him alive and for that fleeting moment, a flicker of guilt flashed in her eyes.

Then, murmurs.

“Isn't that the useless son-in-law?”

“Yes, the criminal who killed the son of the governor.”

“He looks really miserable. Trash!" Another spat.

Before Carl could get closer to the stage, Sarah, Elira's mother tottered forward, her eyes simmering with anger. She blocked his path, her gown catching the light like fire.

“You? What are you doing here you criminal!?” She fired, her words careless, a frantic stab on Carl's Body.

She glared at him, her face twisted into frown, like she wasn't the same woman that had cried on her knee, rolling on the floor and pleading three years ago to take blame for the crime her daughter committed. Now she'd just spat it into his face, called him a criminal in front of everyone who didn't know the actual truth. Has she forgotten so quickly her daughter should've been the one in that damn hellhole?

Not a welcome...No, they've welcomed him, with the shock of his life when he had actually prepared another shock, thinking his wife was dying to see him.

“Good eve—”

Sarah cut in harshly, her voice cutting like icicles “Hold your greetings! What are you doing here? Does this place looks like a prison? Where the heck is your uniform?” She teased, a slap to thunderous slap to Carl's face.

The hall erupted into laughter. Phones were held up, flashing on Carl.

Elira swayed down the stage, her heels clicking sharply. She stopped, stared at Carl for a long time. The earlier guilt had disappeared like smoke and it was replaced with disgust masked beneath her makeup.

Elira didn't welcome him, didn't hug him. She looked him up and down and stepped back like he now stinks badly.

“Carl,” She called, her voice sharp and flat, devoid of the lilt Carl had once heard. “Please leave. We can talk about this later.”

“There is nothing to talk about, honey!" Sarah snapped.

“No, mum.” She said, like she cared but only holding back. Today is her birthday and anniversary. She won't want the night destroyed for her by her husband...ex–husband.

Carl chuckled, his expression calm and unreadable.

“I should leave?" He said quietly, like a man struggling to believe a cruel prank. “I came home today after three years of serving...” He paused, like the rest would burn his lips.

“...So this is how you welcome me?”

Carl thought they didn't visit him because he was in an unreachable dungeon, because maybe he thought a pregnant woman shouldn't even be in such a Hell.

Then he asked,

“Where is our Child?"

Sarah bursted into a wave a laughter. It rang, spreading across the room like a bell.

“Child? Ha. I can't believe you fell for that Carl. There was no child. Oh, you thought...”

“Mum please. Not here.” The murmurs were rising. This was what Elira didn't want.

She walked closer to Carl, her gaze burning on him— tired...tired of seeing him and impatient.

“Leave, Carl” She hissed.

The words landed like dagger.

Carl stared in to her eyes, searching. She was different, cold and distant. Not the same woman who'd come begging that night, not the same woman who'd once told him he married the best husband. Was that all a joke? Was three years too long to douse the fire of their love? Even if she had forgotten him, and severed the ties, was this what he deserved after everything?

He was disappointed and hurt..Hurt to see the same woman she'd thought loved him discard him like they never shared something special. She lied! She betrayed him! There was no child, there was no pregnancy. Just deceit!

His eyes brushed on Henry who stood in the spotlight with a smug smirk on his lips, his shoulder raised with pride, like he was he won the fight.

Carl looked away.

“Alright.” He said, his expression calm but inside was a raging volcano.

He held the box. It felt heavy now..and cold. He turned and started walking out. Cameras flashed on him, each flash a flutter of mockery. Murmuring followed him behind like bullets, each one hot with contempt and jeers but he allowed them bounced.

But Carl didn't stop. He didn't Blink. He walked out calmly out of the forbidden place and maybe...just maybe. This would be the last time they'll see him. And all of them. Those who had laughed, those of had sneered, they'll regret it.

Elira stood still like a statue, watching him fade away and at that moment, guilt washed over her like second skin. Maybe she shouldn't have talked to him like that. Maybe she should have welcomed him but she's outgrown Carl now. He's way below her now. She deserves a Dapper man and not a criminal.

Yet, she couldn't help but think that she's Making a huge mistake. As much as she'd viewed her husband...ex–husband, technically as a piece of trash, she couldn't help but think she's losing something huge.

Her mother, noticing her expression held her hand gently.

“You did well, Daughter. You aren't going to accept a worthless piece like him. He's a criminal and you're not settling for one.” She said.

Elira nodded, like she knew better but yet she couldn't shove the guilt nibbling at her heart.

She forced a smile, smoothen her gown like she'd outshine the man who just left but she'll realize. She'll know she'd lost a treasure.

****

Behind a desk in the towering glass building of Gilded Tribunal, seated Cassandra Kenneth, her face engrossed into an Apple computer.

A knock came on her door and Klass, her assistance, a poised woman in her late twenties sauntered in with a Tab in her hand, held like a gun. Her words were always military aligned.

“Good morning, Ms. Cassandra. I have some bullets about the man you asked me to look into.”

Cassandra lifted her head, her eyes lit with interest.

“Shot it!"

She tapped on the tablet like she was detonating Bomb.

“His name is Carl Alaric, served a three year sentence for murdering Alex Maranzano but what is most shocking and zoned out of the public is that he wasn't the one who committed the crime.”

Cassandra leaned back, swiveling on her executive chair, her finger tapping on the desk continuously like a ticking bomb.

“And who did?"