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?"

with a monogrammed

to marry Timothy. That was the

laugh

forward in his chair, desperation creeping into his voice. "I can offer other properties, valuable ones. Prime

lack properties, Martin? Don't insult my intelligence. You know exactly why we struck 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 my

on his desk, its silver frame tarnished at the edges. "I have my late sister's properties," he said desperately.

assets-"

could be contested?" Hugo's laugh was cruel. "Please, Martin. The whole city knows about that mess. Every person in our circle is talking about it.

"There must be something."

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isn't." Hugo's voice was final. "No, Anya, no deal. It's that simple.

hummed in Martin's ear like a funeral song. He slammed the receiver down, his hand shaking with rage. The sound echoed through the room, disturbing the dust motes dancing in the filtered sunlight. Without pause, he snatched up the phone again

voice was cold enough to freeze

growled, his composure cracking. "Do you have any idea

laugh was bitter as wormwood. "I don't remember being family with you. When did we become family again?" ""You dare !" Martin's voice rose to a

tone dripping with contempt. "Lower your voice; the city is sleeping. What does your family's deal

white around the receiver. "So you're

finding out now?" The mockery in her voice was unmistakable. "You stopped being my father the moment you said Emma was missing but hid her from my mother and me; you became less than a stranger." Her

voice held a smile that promised retribution. "Don't worry. When I've 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

for a long time. I married for love-though I doubt you understand the concept. Love