Don’t Fall for the Billionaire Lover by Rosa Winters

Chapter 1074

Grant took the climb up Emerald Peak one slow step at a time.

At the summit sat Zenheart Temple, a place that had stood for over a century. The path was so steep and winding, it took nearly two hours just to reach the top. Hardly anyone ever made the trek. In most people's minds, the temple was nothing more than a forgotten ruin, its incense long since faded away.

It had been years since Grant last came here. Not since the day he started pretending to be disabled. For two whole years, even after his legs had healed, he stayed in his wheelchair, hiding the truth from everyone. Part of it was self- punishment. But there was another reason, maybe even more important—he just couldn't bring himself to climb this mountain, couldn't face the man waiting at the top.

But today was different.

Today, Grant climbed all the way to the summit.

The temple wasn't as abandoned as people thought. Sure, it was quiet, the incense thin, but it was nothing like the rumors. The buildings were still beautiful, all sweeping roofs and painted beams, the corners hung with brass bells that danced in the breeze, their clear notes echoing softly down the mountain like a distant, peaceful chant.

Inside the main hall, the golden Buddha sat serene and dignified, its compassionate gaze watching over everything. Wisps of incense drifted up from the altar, filling the air with a gentle, calming scent.

A man in monk's robes knelt on a cushion before the altar, hands pressed together, head bowed in silent prayer.

Grant stood behind him, waiting.

did

stayed kneeling, rolling a string of prayer beads

you here today? Your legs are they better?" he finally asked, his voice

knelt down on the cushion beside him, bowing low. "Father, I have something I need

monk answered,

the right words. Then, finally, he told his father everything

voice shook. "Father,

give up, or turn my

just wanted to

we keep going. with our revenge, or start

beads snapped

He pressed his forehead to the floor, not

world, he

a master of shadows.

a broken-down boy,