Between Love and Revenge: The Montrose Billionaire Trio

I recalled how it all happened...

The priest's voice, steady and rhythmic, echoed through the grand hall as he read the matrimonial vows.

My fingers curled in Ryan's hand, my heart pounding, not from nerves, but from something deeper. A strange unease that I couldn't shake.

Then...

"Attention, everyone!"

The sharp, authoritative voice boomed, drowning out the priest's words.

Gasps rippled through the congregation. The murmurs of confused guests rose like a wave.

I turned sharply toward the entrance, my hand slipping from Ryan's grasp.

The voice continued, unwavering.

"We have confirmed that Mr. Williams Parker, the current director of Ziknis Corporation, is present here. Make yourself visible immediately. You are under arrest for the embezzlement of company funds."

A sharp breath left my lips.

My father.

For a moment, I couldn't move. Couldn't think.

Then, behind me, I heard the rustle of fabric as my father stood from his pew. His deep, steady voice followed.

"Officers", he said, his tone calm despite the weight of the accusation, "I am Williams Parker, but I have no knowledge of what you're accusing me of "

The lead officer, a tall man in dark civilian clothes, tilted his head, smirking, "I expected denial"

With a swift motion, he pulled out a pair of silver handcuffs, the metal glinting under the chandeliers.

The cold, final click of the cuffs locking around my father's wrists jolted me back to reality.

"No!", my voice cracked as I lunged forward, the heavy layers of my gown dragging against the polished floor, "Let him go! He's innocent!"

The officers didn't spare me a glance. They turned, leading him towards the exit as though he were nothing more than a common criminal.

I struggled to follow, my heels catching in the folds of my dress. My pulse roared in my ears. I reached out desperately.

Then my foot twisted.

The ground rushed toward me.

I hit the marble floor with a jarring thud, my hands scraping against the cold surface. My veil fluttered around me like a fallen petal.

Through my tear-blurred vision, I lifted my gaze, just in time to meet my father's eyes.

He wasn't resisting.

He wasn't fighting.

Instead, he gave me a small, weak smile. A nod.

As if to say "Everything will be fine. Don't worry"

Then he was gone.

And just like that, my world began to shatter.

...

The wedding between Ryan and I was called off.

Ryan stayed by my side at first. He called. He sent flowers–roses, lilies, even food platters with little notes scribbled on them.

Then, without warning, nothing.

No texts. No calls. No explanations.

At first, I barely noticed. I was drowning in legal battles, exhaustion pressing down on me like chains. My mother and I fought endlessly to prove my father's innocence, only to be met with slammed doors and cold refusals.

The company refused to launch an internal investigation. Friends we once trusted turned their backs on us.

My father's name was dragged through every news outlet, painted as a criminal.

One evening, as I sat on my bed staring at the last bouquet Ryan had sent, now wilted and lifeless, I felt something inside me crack.

I grabbed my phone and dialed his number.

It rang. Once. Twice.

Then...

"Hello?"

His voice was casual. Unbothered.

I swallowed, my throat dry. "Ryan... Where have you been?"

"Phina!" he said, almost cheerfully. "It's been ages! How are you? How's your dad's case going?"

Silence stretched between us.

I didn't answer.

Didn't move. I wanted him to feel the weight of my anger and disappointment.

He sighed, "Baby, I'm sorry. I lost my phone and just got a new one yesterday. I barely recovered half my contacts."

A pause.

I clenched my jaw. "You lost your phone?"

"I swear, I didn't mean to disappear on you. Work has been insane. I barely have time to breathe."

Something about his voice didn't sit right with me.

But I wanted to believe him.

"I thought you abandoned me", I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Abandon you?" He sounded almost hurt. "Phina, you're my world. I'd never do that."

My eyes stung. Tears began to form in them as I tried to force them back.

"Listen", he continued, "I'm on my way to your house"

"You are?", I asked, blinking rapidly out of surprise mixed with excitement.

"Yeah. But actually, I have a better idea. Let's go out. You need a break".

I hesitated.

Leaving the house felt impossible. But Ryan's voice was warm and I didn't want to say No to him.

"Okay," I murmured. "Drive safe".

...

He arrived a little later than expected, complaining of traffic. By the time we caught up and he greeted my mother, it was late evening.

We drove in silence, the city lights flickering past the window. I leaned against the glass, exhaustion pressing down on me.

At some point, I dozed off.

When the car finally stopped, I woke up, rubbing my eyes while blinking into the darkness outside.

It was not a restaurant, not any fancy dinner spot. Just an abandoned building, looming in the night.

Frowning, I sat up. "Ryan... where are we?"

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Patience, darling"

Something was off.

He got out and walked around to my side, opening the door. I hesitated before taking his hand.

Inside, the space was eerily silent, shadows stretching across the floor. The air smelled of dust and something faintly metallic.

Ryan covered my eyes with his hands, guiding me forward.

"You didn't tell me you had something planned," I murmured, forcing a small chuckle.

"A quick surprise", he whispered against my hair.

Then...

Light. Dim, flickering.

His hands dropped.

And I froze.

At least twenty men stood in front of me, dressed in sharp black suits. Their faces were unreadable. Cold.

A slow, sickening dread curled in my stomach.

I turned to Ryan, my pulse hammering, "What is this?"

He stepped back, putting distance between us. His posture shifted. He seemed relaxed and somewhat detached.

His expression had changed too.

Distant. Unfamiliar.

My heart clenched. "Ryan?"

He inhaled slowly, then exhaled.

"I'm sorry, Seraphina Parker"

A pause. He swallowed.

"I had to do this."

I barely had time to process his words before the men started moving toward me.

(Seraphina Parker)

Panic surged through me, but I ran toward Ryan anyway. I wasn't sure what I was hoping for.

Maybe that he'd snap out of whatever hold these people had on him, maybe that he'd grab my hand, and we'd escape together.

"Ryan, please," I pleaded, my voice shaking as I reached for him. "Let's get out of here. Now."

He unfolded his arms, and for a brief moment, I thought he was reaching for me, ready to run. But instead, he pulled me flush against his chest, his grip tightening around me like iron shackles.

"What are you doing?" My voice was desperate now. I struggled, trying to push against him, but he was stronger. "Ryan, let me go! They're coming!"

The men were closing in fast, their heavy footsteps echoing in the dimly lit space. Yet, Ryan remained still, his arms locking me in place as though he was one of them.

Rage flared inside me. If he wasn't going to let me go willingly, I had no choice. With all the strength I had left, I sank my teeth into his cheek, biting down hard.

Ryan shouted in pain, his grip loosening just enough for me to wrench myself free. He staggered back, clutching his face where blood was now trickling down.

I didn't waste a second. I turned and ran.

My wedding dress had been heavy, but now, in this sleek black evening gown, my steps were lighter, faster. My breath burned in my throat as I pushed forward, darting past Ryan's parked car.

Then I saw it.

A black SUV pulled up, its tinted windows reflecting the dim streetlights. The driver's door opened slightly.

My heart pounded. Was this an escape...or another trap?

I couldn't risk being caught again. Acting purely on instinct and relying solely on luck, I dashed forward and shoved the door shut before the driver could step out. Then I threw open the backseat door and jumped inside.

The SUV screeched forward, tires screeching against the pavement.

I slammed the door shut behind me, my entire body trembling.

The silence inside the car was suffocating. I dared to open my eyes.

The driver was a man, his profile sharp under the faint glow of the dashboard lights. He didn't look at me, his gaze fixed on the road.

"Who are you?" My voice was hoarse, my body still tense.

No response.

I swallowed hard. "Are you one of them?"

Still nothing.

Minutes passed in silence, my heartbeat refusing to settle. Then, just as I was about to speak again, the car slowed to a stop.

I looked up.

A hotel. A large, bustling one, glowing under neon signs. People moved in and out of the entrance, dragging suitcases, talking, laughing.

A public place.

I exhaled shakily, my body sagging with relief.

Then I felt dizzy and...

The world went dark.

...

It was warm around me.

I struggled to get my senses active again and that was when I began to notice.

Soft sheets. A firm mattress. The scent of fresh linen. The feeling of safety.

I forced my eyes open, my head throbbing. The light in the room was soft, casting a golden glow over everything.

I grabbed my head with both hands in an attempt to reduce the pounding in my skull.

And then I saw him.

The man from the SUV. He was bent over the bed, adjusting the sheets.

I tensed, my breath catching.

He was tall, his white T-shirt stretched over broad shoulders, his dark pants fitted perfectly. His face was... breathtaking. Sharp cheekbones. Piercing eyes. Thick, dark lashes that were almost unfair for a man. His full lips were slightly parted, his expression unreadable.

"You should rest," he said, his voice deep, smooth and soothing.

My throat was dry as I managed to ask. "Who...?"

He touched my forehead as if to check my temperature, stopping me right in my track.

His fingers were warm. Gentle. Comforting.

"It's not too bad," he murmured, pulling his hand back. "You just need rest."

I stared at him. My throat refusing to produce any more sounds.

Who was this man?

Why had he saved me?

He stepped back, giving me space. For the first time, I noticed his black leather jacket draped over a chair.

I swallowed hard but my throat still felt parched.

He observed me carefully for few seconds as I lay on the bed, his eyes sharp and full of life, before fishing out his phone from his pants pocket and going ahead to scroll through it.

A moment later, he grabbed his jacket and slipped his arms into it.

Something in me panicked.

"Wait," I blurted.

He paused.

I bit my lip. "Are you leaving?"

He gave me a small smile, revealing a set of perfect white teeth. "You're safe now. The hotel's been paid for. A doctor will check on you in the morning."

My chest tightened.

What did he think I meant with the question to give me that answer?

I wasn't trying to be a leech.

I searched my mind for what to say next.

He was leaving now.

After everything, after saving me, after being the first person in a long time to make me feel safe, he was just... going?

Something in my heart awakened. I felt a kind of way but I couldn't place the feelings.

My head swirled and my heart thumped continuously.

I knew one thing.

I didn't want him to leave.

I couldn't want that.

Then, my lips moved before I could stop them.

"Don't go." I said, standing from the bed.

The words hung in the air.

His expression shifted.

Slowly, he unbuttoned his jacket, shrugging it off. It hit the floor with a soft thud.

My pulse raced.

He unbuckled his belt, freeing it from the belt holders swiftly unto the floor, his eyes locked in mine.

Heat rushed through me.

I should say something. Stop this. But I didn't want to.

He moved toward me, his bare chest just inches from mine. The warmth of his skin seeped into me, sending shivers down my spine.

His fingers tilted my chin up.

"Say it again," he murmured, his breath brushing my lips.

I exhaled shakily. "Don't go."

His lips crashed against mine immediately.

We got lost in the sheets and into the night.

...

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains.

I turned in bed, my body aching, but in the best way.

The space beside me was empty.

My heart sank.

I sat up, my gaze darting around the room. His jacket was gone. His scent lingered, but he was nowhere to be found.

A knock sounded at the door.

"Miss Parker?" a voice called.

The doctor.

I forced myself out of bed, wrapping a robe around my nakedness.

By the time the doctor left, my breakfast untouched, I still couldn't shake the hollow feeling in my chest.

...

I remembered everything that happened in the last few months like it happened yesterday as I stood outside the hospital, gripping an envelope so tightly my knuckles turned white.

Inside it was a pregnancy test.

Positive.

Three months.

I pressed a hand to my stomach, my breath hitching.

I had spent the last three months grieving my father, who had died in prison for a crime he didn't commit. I had spent them despising Ryan Carter, the man I was supposed to marry,the man who had led me straight into the hands of my enemies. I had spent them falling more in love with a stranger I had met just once. A man I didn't even know the name of.

And now, I am pregnant with his child.

Tears burned my eyes.

No.

I clenched my jaw, forcing them back.

I had lost too much. My father. My dignity. My peace.

I wouldn't lose control again.

Whoever framed my father, whoever was responsible for his death, they would pay.

Ryan Carter? He would pay.

The stranger from that night? I hope I meet him again soon.

With a heavy but determined heart, I let out a heavy sigh.

Dropping the envelope onto the bench beside me, I lifted my chin and walked away.

This was only the beginning.

7 Years Later...

(Seraphina Parker)

"Are you there already?" Becca's voice came through my phone, her excitement almost contagious.

I sighed, adjusting my dress. "Yes, I'm here."

After a year of dodging blind dates, Becca had finally worn me down. I had repeatedly told her I was too busy. Between work and raising April alone, dating wasn't a priority. But Becca, persistent as always, refused to take no for an answer.

"You need a man to make you feel lighter and keep you younger," she teased every time.

I rolled my eyes. "Why does it feel like he doesn't deserve my time? What kind of gentleman keeps a woman waiting for minutes after they agreed to meet?"

"Oh, give him a chance, Phina. He's a gentleman," she giggled.

Before I could argue, I spotted a well-dressed man entering the luxurious hotel. Brown suit. Tall. Confident stride.

"He's here, I think," I muttered, switching the phone to my other ear. My fingers instinctively reached for my inhaler. Two quick puffs, and I slipped it back into my bag before he could see.

Becca's giggle intensified. "Oh, he's going to charm you, just wait."

I frowned. "Becca, why do you sound more excited than me? If you like him so much, why didn't you go on this blind date yourself?"

"For the last time, I have a boyfriend and I love him." She said, a wave of seriousness in her voice.

"Besides, he asked to meet you." She continued, clearing her throat dramatically.

My breath caught. "Wait. Becca, what did you just say? What's do you..."

"Phina, focus. Talk to him first."

Before I could demand more answers, my supposed date reached my table. I ended the call, placed my phone down, and stood up, extending my hand with a polite smile.

Then, I saw his face.

My chest tightened instantly. My breathing became shallow, erratic. A familiar panic clawed at my lungs, threatening to suffocate me. My crises attacked again.

Not here. Not now.

I clenched my fists, willing myself to stay calm, but my vision blurred. The world around me faded. My heartbeat pounded in my ears.

No. No. No.

I gasped for air, my hands shaking as I fought against the suffocating weight on my chest. Tears burned my eyes. My fingers dug into the table as I tried to steady myself.

This is not happening to me.

"Breathe, Phina. Breathe," I whispered to myself.

I dismissed the thought of reaching for the inhaler in my bag. I wasn't ready to show him that aspect of my life.

I kept pushing gentle breaths and thankfully, I began to feel better.

A warm hand touched my back, moving gently in slow, soothing motions. "Would you like some water?"

That voice.

I turned, and my stomach flipped.

It was really him.

The stranger from seven years ago.

The man I had fallen for at first sight.

The man I had shared one passionate night with.

The man who unknowingly fathered my daughter.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Maybe I was hallucinating. Maybe my oxygen-deprived brain was playing tricks on me.

But when I opened them, he was still there.

Still breathtakingly handsome. Still with the same gentle expression.

It really was him.

A strangled sob escaped my throat before I could stop it. Before I even knew what I was doing, I threw myself against him, wrapping my arms around him.

His body tensed in surprise. "Are you okay?"

I ignored the question, gripping him tighter. "I missed you."

Silence.

His hesitation spoke volumes. He didn't remember me.

A sharp pain stabbed my chest.

Of course. Why would he?

That night, I had been a broken girl. A mess. A complication no man would willingly want.

But now? Now, I was different. I was strong, independent. A mother. A woman who had fought to build a life for herself and her son. A determined woman with goals, sworn to be achieved.

I forced myself to pull away, wiping at my eyes before any more tears could betray me.

"I'm fine now," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "Thank you for your concern."

He studied me for a moment before nodding. "I'm glad."

Then, he extended his hand. "My name is Elian, by the way. Elian Montrose."

I watched his outstretched hand and my mind wandered back to that night. His touches that made my stomach sing and the feel of his skin against mine in gentle sweetness.

I forced a polite smile and took his hand, feeling him again after a long time, "Seraphina Parker. Nice to meet you."

His grip was firm, warm, familiar in a way that made my heart ache.

As he pulled away, he gave me a small smile. "I appreciate your patience. I had some urgent work to finish before coming here."

"You're lucky it was just a few minutes," I teased, trying to lighten the moment.

His deep chuckle sent a shiver down my spine. "I apologize, Madame. I'll make it up to you."

I smiled. I had forgotten what it felt like to make someone laugh.

"You're fierce. I like it," he said, his gaze lingering on me.

I swallowed. "You ordered yet?"

He waved down a waiter, placing our orders. But as the waiter left, his expression changed.

"Have we met before?"

My breath hitched.

This was it. The question I had been waiting seven years to ask.

"Why did you leave that day without a goodbye?"

His brows furrowed. "What do you mean? What day?"

"The night you saved me. You even called a doctor. But when I woke up, you were gone."

A shadow of confusion passed over his face. "I'm sorry, but I have no idea what you're talking about right now."

His words were like a slap.

He didn't remember.

He truly had no idea who I was.

I clenched my fists beneath the table, forcing a smile. "Never mind. I must have mistaken you for someone else."

But inside, my heart shattered.

I was sure it was him. Ripples ran through my brain. I grabbed the glass of wine and sipped a bit from it to relax my nerves.

I can't be mistaken. I will make him remember.