The Crazy Billionaire Who Loves Me Through Hell And Back

"Ms. Sullivan, given your condition, we can't proceed with the abortion."

Clutching the final, fateful test report, Adeline Sullivan staggered out of the hospital, her pulse hammering with desperation.

She fled into an abandoned amusement park, where wild weeds sprawled unchecked, and half of an old ship lay swallowed by moss.

Adeline didn't stop nor dare look back. When her shoe slipped from her foot, she left it behind, her bare skin scraping against jagged gravel. Blood mixed with mud, smearing her delicate ankle.

The sun blazed mercilessly, pouring down like molten gold, yet her world remained smothered in darkness.

The pounding of footsteps closed in behind her, growing louder with every second.

Blindly, Adeline stumbled into the ship's hollowed-out interior, curling into herself, arms locked around her trembling frame.

Her white dress barely covered the bruises marring her thighs, and a silk cloth veiled her sightless eyes in pale, ghostly fabric.

Like a flower deprived of sunlight, she was fragile-wilting, fading, waiting for the inevitable end.

"Where did that blind girl run off to?" A young couple burst into the abandoned wreck, breathless from the chase.

Khloe Anderson clung to Oliver Simpson's arm, her lips curling in distaste as she lifted a foot, staring in disgust at the mud sullying her designer heels. "What a disgusting place."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have lost track of her," Oliver shot back, his brow creased as he scanned the desolate park.

After a brief pause, Oliver softened his voice, forcing a coaxing tone. "Adeline, stop playing. Let's go home, okay?"

Silence answered him.

Oliver exhaled sharply and then tried again. "This is a good thing, you know. The baby's father is Waylon, who hails from the influential Holden family, for crying out loud! Your child will make us rich beyond measure. Stop being stubborn and come out. Just be careful with your belly. I swear, I won't hit you again."

A chill slithered through Adeline's bones at the sound of his voice.

At fifteen, Adeline's world had crumbled after her family's bankruptcy. Then came the fire that claimed her whole family's lives and left her to lose her sight overnight.

Blaine Simpson, once a devoted servant of the Sullivan family, had taken her in. For five years, she had lived under his roof.

Last year, Blaine's only son, Oliver, had returned from his studies and showered Adeline with care and affection.

Adeline had thought she had found her safe haven, but she couldn't have been more wrong. The moment she agreed to be with Oliver, his true colors bled through. He was obsessed with any hidden assets she might have left, given her family's once-enormous wealth.

When Oliver realized she had nothing, he had become a beast, hitting her relentlessly and openly messing with her caregiver, Khloe.

Oliver and Khloe, their greed knowing no bounds, had borrowed from loan sharks and thrown money away on reckless bets. When the debts had piled too high, they planned to sell Adeline to pay off their debts. Then came that night at the neon-lit nightclub. The moment they saw Waylon, their scheme had shifted. Without a word, they had shoved Adeline into his room, where the air had been thick with the scent of aphrodisiac.

And Waylon? He was a man no one in Kranbu dared cross. His name alone was enough to silence a room.

Under the influence of the drug, Waylon had slept with Adeline. After their intimate encounter, he had ordered his men to beat up Oliver and Khloe, after which he left nonchalantly.

In the end, Adeline, the poor soul, had taken the full force of Oliver and Khloe's anger.

Oliver's beatings had left Adeline bedridden for nearly a month. Later on, her sudden nausea and vomiting, coupled with the missed period, made Oliver and Khloe realize what was happening and excitedly dragged her to the hospital.

Adeline had seen through their plan-they intended to use the baby growing inside her as leverage to extort Waylon. She had to run away from these two demons. She had to escape today, because if she didn't, she would never get a second chance.

The rustling of leaves snapped Adeline's thoughts back to the present. Those footsteps-they weren't Oliver's or Khloe's. Had they brought reinforcements?

Adeline sank her teeth into her hand, forcing herself to stay silent.

The footsteps crept nearer, each one ticking away like a time bomb.

The air was almost stifling.

Suddenly, the footsteps stopped. A sharp, woody scent drifted through the air, wrapping around her senses, and with it came an overpowering presence.

Above her came a man's voice-low and cold. "Ms. Sullivan, whose baby are you carrying?"

Adeline recognized the voice-it was Waylon, the man from that night.

Memories of that night flooded back to Adeline. A tightly closed room, an oppressive atmosphere, clothes torn to shreds. He had lurked like a predator in the shadows, ruthlessly tearing everything apart. With his heavy breathing, her world had gradually collapsed, reduced to nothing but dust.

Recalling these events, Adeline's face drained of color. She spun around, planning to escape, but his hand firmly grasped her wrist.

...

Oliver and Khloe were nowhere to be seen.

Adeline was forcefully pulled into a stretch limousine and pushed onto the plush leather seats, her arms pinned by her sides.

The unfamiliar surroundings made her uneasy, and the ensuing silence amplified her anxiety, nearly consuming her with fear. She hardly dared to breathe, a cold sweat forming on her forehead.

Suddenly, someone seized her foot.

"Don't touch me-" Adeline gasped, unable to hold back a soft cry of panic.

"Shh." Waylon was sitting opposite her, his gaze lowered to her foot as he held it gently, his voice soft and enticing, like a whisper meant for a partner. "It's heartbreaking to see you hurt like this."

Her skin was soft as silk, her toes small and perfectly formed, resembling an exquisite sculpture. Yet, the beauty of her foot was marred by mud and bloodstains.

Adeline remained silent. It felt as though her foot was searing on hot coals, yet she couldn't break free.

Zain Steward, the butler of the Holden family, stood quietly outside the limousine, observing the scene unfold within.

Inside the limousine, Waylon opened a medical kit with one hand, carefully cleaning Adeline's foot with a cotton swab to remove the blood and dirt. His touch was gentle, his deep-set eyes focused intently on the task, his handsome features showing no emotion except for what seemed like concern for the delicate foot he held.

However, Zain, who was watching, knew Waylon's intentions were not as generous as they appeared.

Zain cleared his throat and turned to Adeline, who was visibly pale. "Ms. Sullivan, I'm sure you understand our purpose. We simply wish to know the father of the child you are carrying."

The question made Adeline flush with embarrassment, her lips pressed tightly together as she refused to answer. That fateful night in the nightclub a month earlier had been her first time, and Waylon, more than anyone else, should know the truth. Now, a month later, being pregnant and questioned in such a manner implied accusations of her being promiscuous since that night. Yet, her sexual behavior, or lack thereof, wasn't their real concern. Their true intent was clear...

As expected, the next moment, Zain continued, his tone polite yet chilling, "We will soon take you to the Holden family's private hospital for recovery."

Adeline's suspicions were confirmed. The Holden family could not afford the scandal of an illegitimate child. Regardless of whether the baby was actually a Holden, it was not acceptable. Given this, asking the previous question was just to humiliate her, wasn't it?

Adeline took a moment to steady her breath before responding in a raspy voice, "Mr. Holden, please know that Oliver and Khloe were the ones who had orchestrated the night a month ago. I am just as a victim as you. I have no hidden agenda."

Waylon remained silent. He continued treating her wound with the care of handling a fragile artifact, his expression unreadable, giving no sign of whether he heard her plea.

Adeline added, "I do not want this baby either, but my body cannot handle an abortion. Please, give me a chance to live. I will leave and never return to Kaiphia. No one will know of your illegitimate child." Her voice was nearly a plea.

But as she finished speaking, she suddenly felt a sharp pain. "Ouch..."

Waylon had pressed the cotton swab too hard into her wound, observing the blood flow before slowly meeting her gaze. As her face paled with pain, he allowed a cruel smile to form on his lips. "Ah, so you consider yourself quite innocent, do you?"

Adeline stayed silent, bracing herself for what he would say next.

"Unfortunately, I, Waylon Holden, do not believe there's a pregnancy that cannot be ended."

Thick droplets of sweat gathered on Adeline's forehead and slowly traveled downward.

Waylon grasped her foot with one hand, reaching out with the other.

A bodyguard quickly presented Waylon with a dagger, already drawn from its sheath.

Waylon sat still, the cold edge of the blade resting on the top of Adeline's foot. He gently dragged it upward, following the curve of her smooth calf, his eyes gleaming with a twisted sense of excitement. He murmured, "I've never seen a woman's insides. They must be more delicate than a man's..."

Adeline's mind raced in shock, her thoughts spinning as she wondered if he intended to dissect her while she was still alive. She trembled uncontrollably, her voice barely a whisper. "No, please..."

Despite being confined at home for the last five years, Adeline was well aware of Waylon's infamous reputation.

Waylon, 25 years old, stood as the eldest heir of the Holden family, a household that reigned at the top of Kaiphia's most dominant business empire, renowned for its grip over the country's major industries. Since his birth, expectations were high for him to accomplish great things. Tragically, a car accident at the age of five claimed his mother's life and led to his disappearance. It wasn't until he was 20 that the Holden family found him. But by then, he had become a notorious enforcer at an underground casino, known for his murderous demeanor and ruthless actions.

In the five years that had passed since Waylon returned to the Holden family, his behavior had grown increasingly wild, characterized by insolence and being at the center of every scandal faced by the Holden family. He carried the arrogance expected of a wealthy heir, but it was sharpened by a kind of cruelty that set him apart. He spent his time preying on actresses, tormenting those who worked beneath him, and once left a senator severely injured. When the urge hit, he plunged into high-speed street races, smashing into cars and striking pedestrians as though it were just part of the thrill.

Each new offense he committed seemed more horrible than the last, forcing the powerful Holden family to declare that Waylon suffered from a mental illness in an attempt to mitigate public outrage and avoid imprisonment.

Adeline was aware that Waylon was a depraved, infamous member of a wealthy family, yet his level of corruption was beyond her expectations. Being the last remaining member of the Sullivan family, she couldn't afford to die in such a manner.

Adeline fought to break free, but with Waylon's grip locking her foot in place, there was no way to escape. All she could do was endure the chill of the blade as it slid across her skin.

Abruptly, the dagger slipped beneath the edge of her white dress and began to lift the fabric.

A sharp knot formed in Adeline's chest as her breathing faltered, and every bit of color vanished from her face.

"Mr. Holden," the sudden voice interjected sharply, bringing the dagger to a stop.

Zain stood by the car door, tucking his phone away with measured ease. "Your grandmother just called with clear instructions. She told me to remind you not to do anything reckless and to marry Ms. Sullivan immediately. According to her, the Holden family's baby must be born legitimately, with the family name to match."

"Has she lost it? Telling me to marry a woman who schemed her way into my bed?" Waylon sneered. "I'll deal with it on my own."

Zain was momentarily speechless.

Meanwhile, Adeline seized the moment of Waylon's distraction to swiftly withdraw her foot. As she did so, her blindfold fell, and a surge of white light momentarily blinded her, causing a slight sting.

Shock overcame her as she began to see again. The world around her, once thought to be perpetually dark and void, was now tinged with colors through a haze of white. A man's blurred shape started to materialize through the fog. Her eyes... Was her vision returning?

Seated at an angle, Waylon offered her nothing more than a hazy glimpse of his profile-sharp lines and harsh angles. Adeline strained to focus, but her vision refused to clear.

Standing just beyond the car, Zain went on relaying Ruby Holden's directives. "Three days from now falls on a date favored for weddings. Your grandmother plans to oversee the arrangements herself, complete with every proper ceremony."

Waylon seemed amused by Zain's audacity to continue. As he twirled the dagger in his hand, he fixed a half-smile on Zain. "Step closer and repeat that."

Zain eyed the dagger, perspiration forming on his forehead as a chill ran down his spine. "Mr. Holden, I am obliged to deliver this message, even at the risk of my life," he said. "Your grandmother also mentioned that if you refuse, she and her husband will hang themselves at your doorstep."

Silence enveloped Waylon, his complexion turning livid.

"And this," Zain continued, extending his phone to Waylon. "Your grandmother believes that once you watch this video, you will consent to the marriage."

Waylon looked down at the phone with an increasingly cold stare.