The Billionaire's Mistake

MISTAKE 89

Chapter 89: She Is Married?

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Martin's office breathed old money and calculated prestige, a carefully curated shrine to power and influence. Sunlight filtered through heavy drapes, casting long shadows across the mahogany furniture that had witnessed decades of deals and betrayals. He sat behind his expansive desk, surrounded by sepia-toned photographs of stern-faced ancestors whose eyes seemed to judge his every move. The antique phone before him gleamed with purpose, its brass fittings catching the afternoon light.

The Persian rug beneath his feet had worn thin in places, marking the paths of countless negotiations. Martin traced its intricate patterns with his eyes, gathering courage for the call he needed to make. The grandfather clock in the corner ticked away precious seconds, its steady rhythm a countdown to what he feared would be disaster.

His fingers trembled slightly as he reached for the rotary dial. Each click echoed in the quiet room as he dialed Hugo's number, the sound seeming to bounce off the wood-paneled walls. The weight of what he had to say pressed down on him like a physical thing. "Hugo, my old friend." Martin tried to keep his voice steady, though his free hand clenched into a fist on his desk.

"Martin!" Hugo's voice crackled through the receiver, warm and jovial. "What a pleasant surprise. How are you, old boy? It's been too long since our last golf game."

"We need to discuss the deal between our families." Martin cut through the pleasantries, his throat dry.

"Oh?" The warmth in Hugo's voice dimmed slightly. "What about it? Has something changed?

Martin's free hand gripped the edge of his desk until his knuckles went white. "There's been a complication. Anya... she's already married."

The silence that followed felt endless. Martin could hear his own heartbeat in his ears, counting the seconds until Hugo's response.

"Married?" Hugo's voice had lost all trace of warmth. "To whom? When did this happen?"

Martin admitted, wiping sweat from his brow with a monogrammed handkerchief.

as a blade. "Martin, do you take me for a fool? The deal was crystal clear. Anya was to marry Timothy. That was the cornerstone of our arrangement. And even if your niece is married, don't

laugh

creeping into his voice. "I can offer other properties, valuable ones.

this deal. I want that bidding spot, but I can't take it myself. I need someone tied to me by blood, by family. If your daughter isn't a hostage in

edges. "I have my late sister's properties," he said desperately. They can serve

assets-"

knows about that mess. Every person in our circle is talking about it. Did you think I wouldn't hear about the legal challenges coming

"There must be something."

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Hugo's voice was final. "No, Anya, no deal.

The sound echoed through the room, disturbing the dust motes dancing in the filtered sunlight. Without pause, he snatched up the phone again

Anya's voice was cold enough to

his composure cracking. "Do you have any idea what you've

'our'?" Anya's laugh was bitter as wormwood. "I don't remember being family with you. When did we

Anya cut him off, her tone dripping with contempt. "Lower your voice; the city is sleeping. What does your family's deal have to do with me? Don't sit around calling random people family when

knuckles went white around the receiver. "So you're cutting

but hid her from my mother and me; you became less than a stranger." Her voice hardened to steel. "Now you're an

completely destroyed you, when you have nothing left, when you're begging on the streets you once threw us onto, you'll finally understand what being an enemy means." "So that's why you married so

was pure venom. "I did what I wanted. I have been married for a long time. I married for love-though I doubt you understand the