The Billionaire’s Wedding Trap - Chapter 15: Chapter 15

ELLE'S POV
I stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of my father's office, watching the sunset paint the sky in shades of gold and crimson. A satisfied smile tugged at my lips.
Taking a deep breath, I felt lighter than I had in months. King Corporation was finally mine again—right where it belonged.
I'd already met with the stakeholders, smoothing over concerns and reassuring them that the company would return to its former strength—just as it had been before my father's death. The shareholders were thrilled to have me back as CEO, praising my leadership.
I'd done it. The company was back in my hands.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Pulling it out, my smile widened at James' name flashing on the screen.
"Hey," I answered.
"Hey, Elle," his warm voice greeted me. "How was your first day back as CEO?"
I exhaled slowly. "Exhausting. But worth it. I won."
"I never doubted you," he murmured.
"How about we celebrate? Dinner at the penthouse—just us."
My grin grew. "I'd love that."
"Good. I'll make your favorite. Just hurry home."
"I will," I promised. "See you soon."
Ending the call, the smile lingered on my face. For the first time in forever, everything was falling into place.
Grabbing my purse and coat, I strode out of the office, nodding to the few remaining employees on my way. The parking garage was quiet as usual—until I slid into the driver's seat.
A shadow moved.
Before I could react, something hard struck my temple. Pain exploded through my skull, and the world went black.
The metallic tang of blood filled my mouth. My head throbbed, my body ached, and my wrists burned against the ropes binding me to the chair.
Blinking against the harsh light, I took in the room—dusty, reeking of gasoline, suffocating. I yanked against the restraints, but they only bit deeper into my skin. Panic clawed at my throat, but I forced it down. Breathe. Think.
Then—click, click, click—the sharp echo of heels on concrete.
I lifted my head slowly, squinting through the dim light as Aliya sauntered in. Dressed in a blood-red dress, lips painted to match, she moved like a predator circling its prey. Amusement glittered in her eyes as she stopped in front of me.
"Well, well," she purred, leaning down. "Look who's at my mercy."
I glared up at her, struggling against the ropes. "I should've had you arrested when I had the chance."
"Oh, darling," she sneered, "you should have. But now? I'm in control—and you're going to pay for humiliating me."
"You humiliated yourself with your greed. And now you want revenge for that?"
Her smirk vanished. She seized my face, nails digging in. "You bitch," she spat. "I should've finished you off last time. Remember, Elle? Remember how it felt when I pushed you down those stairs? When you lost your baby?"
My stomach twisted. The pain, the blood—it all rushed back.
Aliya laughed, cold and cruel. "You should've died with that child."
My pulse pounded, but I kept my voice steady. "And yet, here I am."
Her face darkened. She reared back—slap!—the sting of her palm burned across my cheek.
"Let's see how long that lasts," she hissed. "This time, James isn't here to save you."
"You won't win."
"Oh, I'll make sure you lose everything."
Before I could retort, footsteps echoed in the hallway. My stomach dropped as Cain stepped into the room.
Him too?
Aliya whirled toward him. "Cain? What are you—"
"Aliya, what the hell are you doing?" His voice was sharp, brows furrowed.
"She humiliated us! Threw us out of the company! She deserves this!"
Cain's gaze hardened. "Elle is still my wife. I won't let you hurt her."
Aliya's face twisted in rage. "What?" she shrieked. "You said you loved me! And now you're calling her your wife?"