After the Affair Falling into a Billionaire's Arms novel Chapter 7

**TITLE: Clocks Lie To Hearts by Asa River Flint**

**Chapter 7**

Just as the tension in the air thickened, the elevator chimed unexpectedly, slicing through the silence like a knife.

Had someone finally come to her aid? Louisa’s heart raced with a flicker of hope as she turned her gaze toward the elevator doors.

With a soft hiss, the doors slid open, revealing a quartet of sharply dressed men in suits, who stepped out first and formed two precise lines. Their demeanor was polished, exuding authority and confidence.

Then, from behind them, a tall, striking figure emerged. He was around thirty, with features so finely chiseled that they seemed almost sculptural. There was an undeniable air of innate elegance about him, as if he had just stepped out of a high-fashion magazine.

Trailing closely behind him were the club manager and the general manager, both of whom seemed eager to impress.

The general manager, his smile almost too eager, gestured with exaggerated respect, “Mr. Tudor, welcome to the VIP floor of our Dreamscape Club. Please, make yourself at home.”

Julian Tudor, the man in question, responded with a curt nod, his expression as cold as ice.

Louisa, who had been clinging to the hope of rescue, felt her heart sink as she watched the group move away from her, oblivious to her distress. They were heading in the opposite direction, leaving her trapped in her predicament.

A desperate urge to scream for help surged within her, but no sound emerged, no matter how hard she tried. It felt as though an invisible force was stifling her voice.

In a fit of frustration, she grabbed an antique vase from a nearby shelf and hurled it to the ground. The sharp sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the air like a gunshot.

The men halted, turning back to investigate the source of the noise.

Across the expanse of the room, Louisa’s eyes locked onto Julian’s. Their gazes collided in a charged moment, suspended in time.

Her vision swam, and she struggled to focus on his features, only able to discern a tall, elegant silhouette advancing toward her, illuminated by the ambient light.

She felt dizzy, teetering on the brink of collapse, her complexion pale and her hair a tousled mess, a reflection of her shattered state.

As Julian approached, the chill in his expression deepened, transforming into something more formidable.

The general manager, sensing the tension in the air, felt his knees weaken and stammered, “Mr. Tudor, please, don’t come any closer. It’s not safe. I’ll have someone take care of this immediately.”

Julian shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass. “What are you waiting for? Clean this mess up right now!”

As a property of the Tudor Group, this was Julian’s first inspection of Dreamscape Club since his return, and everyone was acutely aware of the consequences of inciting his wrath.

The manager hurriedly summoned staff to address the situation, his urgency palpable.

Julian, however, seemed unfazed by the chaos around him. He merely cast a cursory glance at the shattered vase before stepping closer to Louisa. “What happened?” His voice was low and resonant, laced with an icy edge that sent shivers down her spine.

The air around them grew thick with tension, and the onlookers held their breath, afraid to intrude upon this intimate moment.

Louisa looked up, her gaze meeting his cold, penetrating eyes. She longed to explain, to articulate the turmoil within her, but her stomach churned violently, as if a blade was slicing through her insides.

The metallic taste of blood that she had been suppressing surged to the surface, and before she could stop herself, she coughed violently, blood splattering across his pristine white shirt.

Time seemed to freeze for everyone present, their expressions morphing into horror as they gasped in unison, “Mr. Tudor!”

Julian’s reputation as a germaphobe was well-known among his associates, and the sight of blood on his shirt was enough to send them into a frenzy of concern.

But Julian, undeterred, focused solely on Louisa. Seeing her sway, on the brink of losing consciousness, he reached out with swift precision, catching her in his arms and lifting her effortlessly.

“Teddy, prepare the car!” he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Any flicker of hope she had for their relationship had extinguished.

“Louisa!” His voice held irritation, mistaking her silence for lingering anger. “How long are you going to keep this up? I’ve already told you—I took Vivian home first because it wasn’t safe for a young woman to return alone.”

He continued, “What’s between us isn’t what you think. She’s like a sister to me. Can’t you stop overthinking this?”

“A sister, huh?” She forced a bitter smile.

So he was still spinning his web of lies. She fought the urge to throw all the evidence of his betrayal in his face. In just twenty-eight days, the divorce agreement would take effect, and she could finally tell him to leave her life for good.

Her tone was flat as she added, “Then congratulations. Your sister is truly wonderful.”

George’s face darkened with rage, his anger palpable in the air.

Louisa had no desire to engage in this pointless argument any longer. Thankfully, a nurse entered at that moment, providing a welcome distraction.

She approached the nurse with determination. “I want to check out. Could you please assist me with the discharge process?”

The nurse looked taken aback, glancing at George for guidance. She had never encountered a situation where a patient wanted to handle their own discharge while family was present.

Louisa understood the unspoken question in the nurse’s eyes. “Don’t mind him. Just take me there.”

The nurse nodded, about to respond when George strode over, asserting, “I’ll do it!”

Louisa chose not to argue, gathering her belongings and leaving the room.

At the nurses’ station, she inquired, “I’m Louisa Forbes from room 1887. Could you tell me who brought me here yesterday?”